Chapter 2 – Rory #2
“Why do you care?” Rory sobbed. “Uncle Christopher slept with older women when he was my age—”
The news startled Derby and he widened his eyes, but not for the reasons Rory thought. “Outlaw knew about you and Gypsy?”
“Yeah. Everyone does.”
“Everyone?” Derby scoffed. “I doubt that. Kendall certainly doesn’t know. She would’ve tried to burn this motherfucker down.” He twirled his finger around. “Meggie would’ve wanted me burned at the stake.”
“Especially since Gypsy propositioned CJ.”
Derby grunted.
“I doubt my mom would care, but none of the women know. Harley knows, so she probably told Mattie and Rebel, since nothing is sacred between those three.”
“How did Mortician’s daughter find out?”
Because Rory had gone temporarily insane. He couldn’t say that, so he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I offered to sell Gypsy’s pussy to CJ. He didn’t take the offer. What can I say? I’m glad he didn’t. I wouldn’t have been pleased if he’d fucked her—with or without my permission.”
“A Caldwell boy, right?”
“Outlaw’s son.”
“I know you’re aware that Diesel slept with her. He’s Outlaw’s son.”
“He just wanted the pussy that Gypsy offered, a fact he made very clear when I confronted him. He thought we’d both lost our fucking minds to fuck with him.” Derby folded his arms and sniffed. “On further contemplation, I agreed with him.”
Rory grinned. “Diesel’s a psycho. You didn’t want that heat, did you?”
Instead of answering, Derby lowered his eyelids.
Rory fell silent, not feeling any better and not any closer to getting Gypsy’s ashes.
“Many days, I could barely tolerate Gypsy,” Derby said softly.
“Even when she ‘let it slip’ that she’d spend time with you.
It’s why I showed up one day. To humor her.
But you’re nothing but a snot-nosed kid.
And, yeah, I fucked much older broads when I was your age.
But me, Outlaw, Johnnie, weren’t soft little boys.
We grew up fast and hard. You boys are pampered, kids, which makes what Gypsy did a fucking crime. ”
“I didn’t meet with her for that,” Rory said, brimming with resentment. Fifteen was fifteen. It made no difference how they’d grown up. “She was helping me with something.”
“Don’t make a difference,” Derby said. “That isn’t how the fuck it ended up.”
“You’re just finding another reason to look down on her.”
Swiveling the chair toward the back of the room, Derby got to his feet and headed to the two-drawer cabinet, topped with bottles of liquor. He grabbed two glasses and a bottle of bourbon then returned to his seat. After pushing a mountain of photos aside, he poured a drink for each of them.
Rory sipped, not liking bourbon, which was one of Gypsy’s favorites.
“Mourn Gypsy, kid. Try turning your thinking around, though. She might be in a better place, away from me. Even realizing what I lost, feeling her absence to my bones, I can’t say I wouldn’t go back to other women if she was suddenly resurrected and walked through that door.
I would be so fucking happy to see her. I’d tell her I love her—I did.
I do. But in my own way and not the way she wanted or deserved. ”
The idea saddened Rory on Gypsy’s behalf. “I miss her so much, Derby. I-I ghosted her because I was so fucking mad at her telling me she wanted to sleep with my cousin. I-I…suppose CJ had said yes? I never wanted to be at odds with him but that would’ve come between us.”
“You were never in any danger of that. CJ is very…protective of himself. Remember how he was at the Scorched Devil’s clubhouse?”
Rory nodded and tasted his drink again. That was the first time CJ, Rory, and Ryan had been allowed to attend a meeting pertaining to club business. Considering all that had happened since last year, that almost seemed like child’s play, even though a man died that day.
“Outlaw’s sons are golden boys,” Derby inserted.
“Gyp was barking up the wrong tree. CJ saw her as his mother’s friend and would’ve never crossed that line.
Diesel saw her as a piece of pussy and didn’t give a fuck.
That she even tried to fuck CJ speaks to her desperation.
Would you really want a woman like that?
Doing any and everything to get, or keep, your attention? Could you even respect her?”
“I thought you said you loved her,” Rory said in a quiet, miserable voice, confused by the conversation.
“I also said emotions are complicated, Rory,” Derby reminded him, draining his glass and pouring himself another one.
“I come in here to spend time with her.” He nodded to all the photographs on the table.
“Remember our years together. When our kids were young. Wonder what to say to them to help them through their grief. Her apartment needed cleaning out. I didn’t intend to go, but Griffin thought it was a good idea. ”
Griffin Cox, the new hospital liaison for the Death Dwellers, was Derby’s gay son from his first marriage. Or relationship. Rory didn’t know if Derby had ever married.
“So I listened to my kid and helped clean out Gypsy’s apartment.
Found her diary.” He set his glass down and leaned his head back on the chair.
“She considered Meggie and Bunny her sisters. She loved me, our kids, and Griffin. She cared about you, Rory.” Sitting up, he glowered.
“And she trusted Junior,” he spat. “That motherfucker. The way he shot her in the back of her fucking head—”
Rory knew. Dad allowed him to watch the video, patting Rory’s hand when he began to sob and rubbing his back when he threw up. “She shouldn’t have died like that.”
“No,” Derby agreed, shaking his head. “She deserved better.”
“Uncle Mort tried—”
“He did. I wish she’d listened. He didn’t intend to let that motherfucker live.” Derby drained his glass once again and gave Rory a bleak look. “But she’s at peace. I have to believe that to sleep at night. If she hadn’t gone to Tee’s, Wally, Jr. would’ve continued his hunt.”
“The day he got my sister, he was hiding in that overgrowth, waiting for Rebel,” Rory said. “They didn’t have anything to do with Eliza’s disappearance. Uncle Val killed her.”