Chapter 15 – Christopher
Standing in front of Rebel’s door a half hour later, Christopher raised his hand to knock, then lowered it. Their chasm was so deep and wide, he didn’t know how to approach her.
He wanted to feel her out. Ask her about Diesel, how she felt about Kaia, if any of those club cunts had done her anything recently. He wanted to tell her to come to him instead of going to her ma.
He’d thought Megan had thawed out, abandoned her new murderous side. But he’d gone after her and she just doubled down, swearing if Fia slept with Kaia one more time she’d die.
Defeated, Christopher left her, unable to watch her close her suitcases, knowing she’d soon leave him again.
Whether Diesel did his bullshit to teach Rebel about men or because he was a jealous fuckhead, Christopher couldn’t dwell on that at the moment.
He was too concerned over Megan leaving—her anger—to really consider the truth.
He needed to build a case against his woman leaving again, a convincing argument that would make her forgive him and get her back on his side.
Sighing, he laid his hand against Rebel’s door. Lately, she annoyed him more than anything else. He couldn’t break through her resentment toward him. She refused to believe him about Torie or listen to him about Diesel.
Backing away, Christopher shoved his hands in his pockets.
He started to turn, but seeing Rebel walking down the hall toward her door halted him.
Rebel froze. He did, too. They stared at each other.
Her wariness irritated him. On a day-to-day basis, her blue eyes were icier than Megan’s, more akin to Snake’s.
Yet, the older Rebel got, the more she looked like her ma.
Christopher had been so proud of Rebel’s breathtaking beauty.
Until he realized, motherfuckers were looking at her and thinking about shit they needed to die for.
She was his baby girl, gorgeous like her ma.
He just wanted her to stay his princess.
“What do you want?” she demanded, storming by and opening her door, then pausing with her hand on the knob. “I have things to do, so we don’t miss the flight. If you just intend to stare at me, I’ll snap a photo and text it to you.”
Scowling, he followed her into her room. “Obviously, I fuckin’ came to talk to you.” He brushed past her. The sight of four suitcases lined up near her door and one opened one, overflowing with shit on her bed, turned his stomach.
She slammed her door closed. “What, Daddy?”
“Your ma said you comin’ back Wednesday,” Christopher said, his gaze glued to all the luggage.
“And?”
“That’s three fuckin’ days away.”
“And?” Rebel repeated with more impatience.
“You got enough fuckin’ luggage for a month.”
Folding her arms, Rebel rolled her eyes. “They’re empty.”
Christopher stiffened. “You must think I’m a fuckin’ jackass.”
“Your words, not mine.”
Determined not to lose his temper, Christopher ignored her comeback. “Why the fuck you bringin’ empty motherfuckers? You gotta pay to check that shit in.”
“We’re going shopping. Momma’s bringing extra suitcases, too.”
Panic flared inside Christopher. Shit felt so out-of-control, which he never responded well to. “Stop bein’ so fuckin’ spoiled and selfish and tell your ma she ain’t got to go anywhere. Tell her you’re fuckin’ fine.”
“Even if I’m not?”
“Fine, spoiled or selfish?”
She nodded.
“Which fuckin’ one, Rebel?”
Smirking, she turned and stomped to her bed, dropping next to the opened suitcase and crossing her legs.
The amount of skin her pink micro mini skirt and matching crop top revealed dawned on Christopher.
He glanced around her room, fit for his princess, with marble floors, ornate walls, and crystal chandeliers.
She had a pastel blue, cream, and gold color scheme and a hidden panic box, along with other safety features, in case of a breach.
Spying her robe, draped over a chair, he stormed to it, snatched it, and then brought it to her. He held it out.
Instead of taking it, she stood and started for the door. “You’re ridiculous,” she tossed over her shoulder.
“Get back here, Rebel.”
“No.”
Mort’s advice ran through his mind. If he wanted Rebel to listen to him, maybe he needed to consider her feelings. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. As much as he wanted her to trust him and believe him at face value, she’d had a mean introduction to reality.
“Baby, wait. Lemme…just listen to me for a fuckin’ minute.”
She didn’t open the door, though she turned and leaned against it, lifting a brow, refusing to give a fucking inch.
“I love your ma so fuckin’ much, Rebel. I ain’t…I know how shit looked, but I ain’t ever cheated on Megan. I ain’t ever wanted Torie. I shoulda never let her talk to you the way she did. I’m so fuckin’ sorry I hurt you so bad.”
Tears glistened in her eyes and she pursed her lips.
“You a formidable lil’ motherfucker.”
“Like Momma.”
Christopher nodded. “And me.”
Her throat working, she glanced away and clenched her jaw. The pain on her face made him feel lower than a fucking snake.
“You look like your ma, but you act like me,” he told her.
A small smile tipped her lips. She heaved in a breath and returned to where she’d been sitting on the bed.
Awkwardness settled between them, and Christopher searched his mind for what to say or to do. He considered how he’d handle Diesel, CJ, or any of the boys.
Realizing what he had to do, he walked to the bed, pushed her suitcase back, and sat next to her, then dug in his cut and pulled out his cigarettes and lighter.
“Want one?” he asked, holding the pack out to her.
She hesitated for the briefest moment before she capitulated and took one, allowing him to light hers and waiting until he did the same with his before she walked to her cabinet in the sitting area and got an ashtray, placing it between them on the bed.
“Momma’s bringing her phone, Daddy,” she said after long minutes of comfortable silence, eased by the camaraderie of smoking. “So am I. So’s Kaia and Axel.”
Christopher let those words sink in. Unlike the last time, Megan didn’t intend to hide her whereabouts.
“Where are you stayin’? She ain’t told me.”
“Hotels are booked.” Rebel nodded to her phone, where it lay on her dresser. “She said she’s going to contact Q. Or she was going to ask Uncle Mort if he could do it.”
“She thinkin’ about stayin’ at our LA chapter?” Christopher asked in surprise. “And she ain’t askin’ me for help?”
“She knows how hard this is on you,” Rebel said. “If it makes you feel better, she’s leaving to help me, not to punish you.”
Nodding, Christopher took a drag of his cigarette, hiding a smile when Rebel mirrored his actions. “Megan a good ma.”
“She is,” Rebel agreed without hesitation, then discarded her cigarette in the ashtray.
“What Diesel did to you?” He didn’t know how else to ask for her side of the story, especially since he’d never been one to hem and haw. “Tell me.”
“You just want an excuse to kill him.”
Not necessarily. Even if Diesel deserved a gruesome death, killing him would devastate Rebel and Axel, and traumatize the rest of them.
Christopher would never give his blessing for Rebel and Diesel to be in a relationship.
Unlike that motherfucker, if he offered a little leeway to Rebel, she’d see it as a greenlight whereas some of the thrill of danger and discovery was gone for Diesel.
“Only way I’ll fuck him up is if he touch you in any way that ain’t brotherly,” he added hastily.
A total ban would be a challenge to both Rebel and Diesel.
“He can kiss the top of your head, your cheek or forehead. He can hug you but it can’t go longer the three seconds.
He can pat your head or your cheek. The back of your hand. Your shoulder. Shit like that.”
“I’m neither a toddler or a puppy, Daddy.”
“He’s a grown motherfucker, baby.”
“Exactly. So why should I believe you won’t hurt him if I tell you what happened?”
Alarm raced through Christopher. “I thought it had to do with Jana. It was cuz…he fuckin’ touched you?”
“No. Do you really think I’d hate him if he had?”
Christopher frowned, but bit back his retort. If he flew off the handle, she’d clam up again.
“I’m still a virgin,” she announced as if that was something he wanted to know.
He threw her a sour look and tamped out his cigarette.
“My sexual experience has probably been speculated upon after they saw those stupid videos.” She swallowed and her nostrils flared before she gave a dismissive wave. “It doesn’t matter, right? Fuck them.”
There were so many fucking responses that went through Christopher’s mind.
If he said one thing, though, Rebel would take it the wrong way.
She’d think he was angry at her, when what he really wanted to do was fuck up Ryan, Rory, Devon, and the Bart brothers.
He’d get his hands on those motherfuckers. Maybe not soon, but one fucking day…
“I did ask Diesel if he thought I was gross. He hasn’t seen the videos, though.”
Christopher bit the inside of his cheek, willed his temper under control.
“He said I wasn’t, but who knows if he really feels that way.”
Was this where he explained s-e-x to his daughter? Obviously, she wanted something from him if she brought that shit up. Except he couldn’t. Unlike with fathers and sons, he was almost certain talking about s-e-x was off limits between a girl and her daddy.
He cleared his throat. “I know I ain’t give you a lot of reason to trust me recently, but I swear I ain’t doin’ nothin’ to Diesel.
Your ma said she wanted to stab that motherfucker.
I already know he set you up. He told me.
I just need to know how bad you think it is that your ma think she need to take you away. That she need to leave.”