Chapter 14 – Mortician #2
Mort widened his eyes, everything else flying out of his head, except… “What the fuck you mean by the first time Johnnie talked to Bailey? That motherfucker fucked with her again?”
Knox nodded with the barest movement of his head.
“What’d he say?”
“I can’t tell you,” Knox said quietly. “Just know it was bad.”
“What the fuck that motherfucker said?” Mort snarled, pounding his fist on the table. The napkin holder, salt and pepper shakers, and condiment containers shook and rattled. “Tell me now.”
“Either you calm the fuck down or I’m leaving. I’m betraying Roxanne to keep you from making a monumental mistake. Ask like a grown man and have some fucking self-control, asshole.”
“Fuck you.” He pulled out his cell phone. “If Johnnie don’t tell me—”
“Do you really want to give Johnnie the satisfaction of a confrontation?” he whispered. “The opportunity to sanction you as a club member if he twists the situation and gaslight his friends into believing you wronged him as an officer?”
“I want to kill that motherfucker.”
“You can’t do that either. I don’t think Outlaw cares, but Kendall does. So do Mattie and her brothers.”
Mort blew out a heavy breath and shoved his cell phone away. Knox was right.
“Besides, you’re focusing on the wrong thing. On Johnnie, when it should be on Bailey and her drinking problem.”
It was so fucking hard to believe that Bailey was an alcoholic. On the other hand, the life he led, the one he’d brought her into, wasn’t an easy one. “You right.”
“Roxanne…the reason Bailey didn’t want to see you is because she’s drunk off her ass.”
“What?”
“Yeah, Mort. It’s bad. Roxanne didn’t know until she opened the door and found Bailey mumbling on the floor, holding a fucking bottle of vodka, in a pool of vomit. She fell and hurt herself, and…”
Mort appreciated Knox risking Roxanne’s wrath by telling him the truth, but he had to see his wife. Pushing back from the table, he got to his feet. “I’m sorry, Knox,” he said, turned, and hurried out the clubhouse.
***
Knox dogged Mortician’s heels for the entire walk back to Roxanne’s house, but Mort ignored him.
He didn’t even greet Grant, who sat in the same spot at the breakfast bar that Mort had a little while ago.
He stormed by, into the living room, and up the staircase, barreling toward the guestroom, where he knew Bailey would be.
Instead, the door swung open and halted him.
Not allowing him even a glimpse of her daughter—his wife—Roxanne walked out and shut the door.
Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes, but she tipped her chin down, avoiding his gaze.
“Why are you here, Mort?” Her lips trembled. “B-Bailey don’t want to see you.”
Alarm raced through Mortician. Some real fucked up shit was brewing. Because of Johnnie.
Knox clearing his throat reminded Mortician of his presence. “I tried to stop him, but—”
“I need to see my wife,” Mortician inserted, studying his mama-in-law. If Knox hadn’t wanted him to storm the place, he should’ve kept some of that shit to himself.
Defeat slid across Roxanne’s face and her shoulders slumped. Sighing, she transferred her watery gaze from Mortician to Knox. “You told him.”
Fuck, a shocking lack of aggression filled her words. She just sounded tired and scared, a concerned mother instead of the fierce mama-in-law he knew and loved. This was so fucking bad.
Knox nodded. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, “but I had to.”
“It’s okay, sugar—”
“I need to see Bailey,” Mortician repeated, growing antsier by the minute. “Scold my ass later, but—” He reached for her, intending to pick her up and set her aside, then go to his wife.
Shaking her head, Roxanne laid her hand on his arm. “She’s in a bad way, Mortician. You...That motherfucker has my baby in a bad way.”
Her pain morphed into anger and flashed across her face. Mortician stiffened, not needing identification for the motherfucker in question. He already knew it was motherfucking Johnnie. Low down fuckhead.
Kendall’s face crossed Mort’s mind. He didn’t want to bring her pain when he’d spent years trying to shield her from it. But her man was off the fucking chain. He needed torturing. Maybe then he’d fucking behave.
“Baby, I know you upset and want Johnnie’s head on a fucking platter, but this isn’t about him,” Roxanne said quietly, holding her shit together by a thread.
Knox joined her, helping to block the door and pulling her into his arms.
“Let me see her, please,” Mortician begged, anger and worry warring within him. “I promise I’ll leave my fucking bullshit in this hallway. Please?”
Roxanne eyed him for a few seconds. Whatever she searched for, he passed because she nodded between him and Knox, and they stepped aside.
Entering the guestroom, Mort halted feet from the bed. The statement headboard made of black velvet inlaid with gleaming brass designs over a wooden frame, was dark and intimate. Mort tried to talk Bailey into similar décor for their master suite but she’d declined.
She lifted her head, her gorgeous eyes far from lucid, tears sliding down her cheeks. Sniffling, she raised a bandaged hand and swiped her cheeks. He wanted to know what happened. Then she focused on him and narrowed her eyes.
Those motherfuckers were so goddamn droopy, they turned into two slits that must’ve been harder than a motherfucker to see out of.
“Go away.” Drunk-blind or not, she still knew how to issue orders. Slurred, but loud and fucking clear. “I don’t ever want to see you again. I want a divorce.”
Pain rushed through Mort, but he ignored it. One, he was a hypocritical fuckhead. He’d planned to announce his intentions to file for a legal separation. She was cutting out a step.
They both knew something needed to be done.
“You’re a miserable, cheating, dirty fucking dog.”
“I’m a lot of things, but not a fucking cheat,” Mortician growled, anger curling around his hurt and betrayal.
“I don’t fucking believe you,” she snarled.
“Bailey, stop it!” Roxanne ordered, stepping next to him and giving him a quick hug. “You’re going to fucking regret talking to this boy—”
“Shut up, Mama!” Bailey‘s tears were probably the only thing that saved her from Roxanne’s wrath. She snatched her attention from her mama and pinned a hateful look on Mort. Somehow, accusation still filled her heavy-lidded eyes. “I know I’m not enough for you, Lucas.”
Why had he even come? He should’ve listened to Knox and stayed his ass away if she was going to repeat the same old fucked up accusations.
“I’ve never been enough for you or Daddy. You always had to supplement me with Meggie and Kendall. He always chose the club over me.”
So many emotions rose in him, Mort couldn’t settle on one, so he rushed forward to take his wife in his arms and comfort her, swear to her she was, and had always been, enough. He expected resistance. He didn’t expect her to slap the fuck out of him.
“Like Mama Bitch, like Baby Bitch,” Roxanne snapped.
Even though his mama-in-law was taking up for him, she was still calling his wife and daughter bitches. He glanced over his shoulder to sidle a glare at her. Bailey clocked his jaw and almost knocked him off the bed.
“Enough, Bailey!” Roxanne’s sharp tone startled Bailey and allowed Mort to catch Bailey’s hands. “Hitting crosses a fucking line.”
“Fuck you,” Bailey huffed in a cloud of alcohol, struggling against Mort’s hold. “You spanked me when I was a child, Mama!”
“I’m about to fucking beat you. A more miserable fucking bitch I’ve never met. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Like you are of me, Mama?” Bailey glared at Mort, teary eyed and wet cheeked. “Like you are of me, Lucas?” she echoed.
“That isn’t true,” Mort told her. “None of what you saying true, baby. I could never be ashamed of you. I’ve always been so fucking proud of you.”
“You aren’t! You aren’t. I just want to die. I want to die. I can’t believe I’ve lost you. I love you so much,” she rambled. Perhaps, she was too drunk to realize her actions definitely didn’t point to love. “Why did you do this to me? To us? How could you betray me again. Once was bad enough.”
“I haven’t...” Mort swallowed. He still didn’t know the context of Johnnie’s most recent lies. Whatever he said, sent her further over the edge. “What I did now?” he croaked, aware of Roxanne looming next to him.
“You want me to say this in front of Mama? Fine! You’re fucking Kendall, and I want a divorce,” she wailed, the words coming out in a rush as a new batch of tears formed. “I don’t care if I told you to fuck her again. You weren’t supposed to think I was sincere.”
He gave his mama-in-law a wary look. “I’m not sleeping with Kendall.”
“I know, baby,” Roxanne said quietly, and patted his arm.
“Liar!” Bailey screamed, spit flying everywhere. She slid her hand over her mouth. “You’re a liar. Johnnie’s been texting me. Just to check on me. More than you fucking do.”
Mort exchanged an incredulous look with his mama-in-law.
“Meggie’s sister-in-law is golden for you. Johnnie told me everything. You went away with Kendall again,” she repeated. “That’s why you haven’t visited me.”
Fuck that motherfucker. Somehow, Johnnie convinced Bailey that Mort was taking Kendall away regularly.
“That’s not true, Bailey.” Mort didn’t know what to say to get her to believe him since he was guilty of putting Kendall on the back of his bike and blazing out of town with her.
Once. “Johnnie lying to you. And I tried to visit you.” He’d called and texted her.
She barely let him see their sons. “You ghosted me.”
“Because you don’t love me,” she slurred in a small voice. “Johnnie—”
“I told you Johnnie was just fucking with you,” Roxanne interrupted. “Stop being a stupid bitch. Why would your husband take that child on a day trip, let alone two or three, without telling anyone?”
“Tell her, Lucas. Tell her how gorgeous you think Kendall is. Tell her everything I told you when we went away. Everything that Johnnie said to me when he texted me today.”
“I don’t—”