Christopher
Hopefully, it wasn’t the offer of a second chance. But Rebel was young, na?ve, and injured. She wasn’t thinking clearly. He’d forgive her if she wanted to go steady with Kaia again.
Not long after his sons went to their sister’s room, Kaia came out with his tail between his legs and found a corner to stand in, like a punished fucking moron. He was still there, ignored by everyone.
Seeing Kaia made Diesel’s absence hard to miss.
Easton said Diesel shot the fuck out of the motherfuckers who targeted Rebel and Jana.
Yeah, they needed disposing, but those motherfuckers could wait.
The meatshack had refrigeration drawers for times like this.
Under normal circumstances, Diesel would be hovering.
If not on Jana’s behalf, then on Rebel’s.
So, where the fuck was he? What the fuck was up?
A slew of motherfuckers surrounded Christopher, though he felt as if he’d been dropped in the middle of a hellscape, blind to everything except...Rebel. And Diesel’s continued absence.
“Johnnie and Red coming soon, Prez,” Mortician said, breaking into Christopher’s thoughts, standing next to him and waving his phone in front of Christopher. “Red texted to let me know.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Christopher nodded.
“I hope Johnnie fucking behave.” Disgust rang in Mortician’s voice.
Christopher couldn’t find the energy to fucking hate Johnnie right now. Unfuckingbelievable. There should always have been energy to hate motherfucking Johnnie.
Fuck. No. There wasn’t. Especially now.
“Val on the way. Chester been throwing up most of the day,” Mort continued. “He had to leave her behind.”
“Tell him to stay with her,” Christopher said, numb. He’d intended to go to the nursery to see what was up with Jo, but the chaotic arrival of the boys and his conversation with Rebel made his muscles feel frozen.
“Let’s go have a smoke, Outlaw,” Mort suggested. “Get a little fresh air for five minutes.”
Christopher glanced at the double doors, then toward the corridor that led to NICU. Five minutes wasn’t long. It would clear his mind of the horror that drove him ever since Easton’s call. He could try to track Diesel and tell Mort about Lance Hart’s phone call.
“Five minutes,” Christopher agreed, getting to his feet and heading to the elevator.