Chapter Three – Christopher
“Would anyone like another plate of food, Outlaw? More dinner rolls? Another drink?”
At Fia’s question ninety minutes later, Christopher pushed his empty plate away and considered his choices. He’d already had three pieces of fried chicken, a heap of mashed potatoes, and a teaspoon of spinach, more because he was hungry than because he’d enjoyed the food.
Val had been right. It wasn’t seasoned properly. If Christopher hadn’t drowned the chicken in Tabasco Sauce, he wouldn’t have been able to eat it. Not many of the younger club girls cooked decently.
“Maybe, you’d like another vegetable, Outlaw?” Fia pressed. “You didn’t have any salad and only a pinch of spinach. I-I can boil some artichokes for you.”
Christopher snapped his brows together, then exchanged a surprised glance with Diesel, ignoring the snickers rising around him.
“You wanna boil me a fuckin’ artichoke?” Bitch couldn’t fry fucking chicken.
What the fuck would she do with an artichoke?
And why a fucking artichoke any goddamn way?
That was a notoriously difficult vegetable to deal with and a bitter motherfucker if not properly cleaned and cooked.
Not to mention that thorny ass choke. “An artichoke?”
Fia nodded. “Anything for you and Meggie. Just please tell her…Ms. Her…” She swallowed.
“Mrs. Outlaw.” Her face crumpled. “Your beautiful, amazing, charming wife. Tell that wonderful, lovely, gorgeous woman you ate your vegetables. T-tell her I have her back always. All she has to do is let me know. Whatever she needs. At whatever time. I’m there.
She feeds you vegetables all the time. All the time.
She’s not here. I am. So I have to make you eat them on her behalf.
Just please, please, please tell her. And…
and…how’s Rebel? I love your daughter. Not love-love, but love the gorgeous, amazing, kind soul she is. She’s an angel on earth.”
Christopher studied Fia’s wringing hands and nervous gaze, holding her shit together by a thread. “You even know how to fuckin’ cook motherfuckin’ artichokes?”
“I can learn!” Fia wailed, jerking her phone out of her back pocket. “I’ll look up a recipe. How do you want it cooked? Just tell me! And then tell that amazing woman you married that I’ll be happy to cook artichoke for her. A bunch of artichokes. All different flavors.”
“Anything you willing to give, I’m ready to eat,” Digger piped in, either unaware of how that statement sounded or not caring.
Diesel wrapped an arm around Fia’s waist and pulled her closer. “Relax, babe. It’s okay.”
Fia sniffled and swiped at a tear. “I love Meggie. And Rebel.” She gulped and looked at Johnnie. “And Kendall. And Mattie. And–”
“We know, sweetheart,” Johnnie told her, his hand still wrapped.
He looked gaunt and defeated, his eyes sunken. He barely touched his food.
Christopher hoped the motherfucker suffered more. He wanted him to starve. Die of thirst. Keel over in grief. When he walked in looking like death warmed over, he’d staggered to a table and dropped into a seat. Immediately, a bout of sympathy hit Christopher, but he ruthlessly shoved it aside.
He didn’t even care that Johnnie revealed he’d gotten out of bed to answer Christopher’s summons.
“It’s where I’ve been since I saw that video,” he said quietly.
“Don’t remind me,” Digger grumbled.
Johnnie raised accusatory eyes to Christopher. “It’s where I’ll return to after dinner.”
“Don’t blame you,” Digger said, gulping beer. “Cum was leaking from Logan’s ass. I’m embarrassed on your behalf, bruh.”
Johnnie’s lips trembled. Instead of crying, he stiffened and ignored Digger. “I wonder how you’ll react to skeletons falling out of the closet, Christopher?”
“Dad!” Tarmac squealed, speeding to the table and breaking into Christopher’s thoughts. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’s enjoying herself with your Aunt Meggie,” Cash responded.
“Okay.” He raced away.
“Roxanne said the same thing,” Knox said morosely, snatching his paper napkin from his lap and throwing it on the table. “She canceled our date.
Alarm crossed Val’s face.
Christopher raised his hand and he sighed. “I knew she wasn’t completely back.”
“Who? Meggie?” Val asked.
“Yeah. She almost back. But, last night, she kept fuckin’ askin’ me if I had something to say to her. Suspicious like Hell Goddess, not accepting like my Sweet Angel.”
Mort lit a cigarette, took a drag, and then eyed Christopher. “Meggie was asking me about Rule before you got to the house yesterday. I told her she needed to talk to you.”
“She did,” Christopher confirmed.
“Fuck, finally. I’m glad you told her.”
“I ain’t told her. I’m just startin’ to get my woman back, Mort.
I ain’t even knew how to fix my fuckin’ mouth–” Scowling, Christopher shook his head.
“Never mind.” He looked at Val, ashen with worry.
“You know Bitsy with Megan. They fine. Megan almost back,” he reiterated.
“She was the woman who spoke yesterday, lovin’ us and talkin’ sense into us.
” He glared at Digger. “Protectin’ motherfuckers that don’t need protectin’. ”
“Meggie got her own resources, Outlaw,” Mortician said. “She must’ve found out. That’s why she was asking us.”
“Resources to tell her about Rule?” Christopher asked, then brushed aside his brief panic. “If she knew, the old Megan woulda confronted me. Asked me if I’d lost my fuckin’ mind. This just prove she need a little more work before she break.”
“Outlaw, have you lost your fucking mind?” Val sputtered. “Keep it up and Meggie will fucking leave you.”
Just the memory of her telling him if she didn’t love him so much, she’d divorce him sent chills through Christopher. But she did love him, he reminded himself, shaking off his uneasiness. No, it went beyond mere love. She adored him as much as he adored her.
“Megan never leavin’ me,” he said flatly. “If she try, Ima fuckin’ kidnap her until she change her fuckin’ mind.”
Laughter rose around the clubhouse. He didn’t give a fuck because he was fucking serious.
“Haven’t you always claimed you’d step aside if Megan wanted out?” Johnnie asked.
“I fuckin’ changed my fuckin’ mind,” Christopher roared over the fucking noise that suddenly ceased. “What the fuck is wrong with her? Givin’ me her best fuckin’ years, then thinkin’ she can walk away? It don’t work that way.”
“Uncle Christopher?” Rory called hesitantly from his seat at CJ’s table. “I-I don’t think Aunt Meggie would ever leave you. She loves you, but she does get mad, so maybe, uh, maybe–”
“Maybe, she found out about Rule–” Ryan scratched his temple. “And, uh, maybe Aunt Meggie got her feelings hurt.”
“No, boy,” Val said, turning a look of disapproval on Christopher, “Meggie probably madder than a motherfucker.”
“We don’t know if that happened,” Stretch put in.
“Besides, where would they go? We’d get alerts.
Once Cash gave me Fee’s message, I checked their location.
They met at Kendall’s office and then headed to that new spa club in a ride share service.
I tracked Meggie’s phone, Outlaw. She’s still there. ”
Christopher smirked. “Knew I ain’t had nothin’ to worry about.”
“Dad,” Ransom said, “Mom picked up Axel before noon. She’s been gone hours–”
“Ain’t nothin’ but a thing, boy. You lil’ motherfuckers gotta learn how to fight a woman’s fire without breaking a fuckin’ sweat.”
Game on, baby.
“Apple pie for dessert?” Fia’s question drew Christopher away from his smugness. She was off Diesel’s lap, standing next to him again. “I bought several store made ones when Outlaw sent me grocery shopping for dinner.”
Wrapping his arms around Fia, Narci settled his chin on her shoulder. “I have an even better idea for dessert,” he murmured.
“Fuck her after she get through feeding us,” Digger replied, sucking on his teeth. “I requested cherry cobbler, baby. You got that or only the apple pie?”
“Uh, I-I just said I only had apple pie,” Fia said with hesitation.
Tennysee crept next to Narci and Fia, slumped her shoulders, then met Christopher’s gaze. She shifted. “I-I made an apple-cherry parfait.”
Straightening, Narci glowered at Tennysee. “I wonder where you got that fucking idea,” he sneered.
“You said it’s your favorite dessert,” she told him.
Something about her reminded Christopher of Kiera. She wasn’t as tall as Ki had been, but she had an olive complexion, a head of dark hair, and a very pretty face.
“Did I tell you to prepare the parfait?” Narci demanded.
“A par-what?” Digger asked. “What the fuck is that? That don’t even sound good.”
“It’s a fuckin’ layered dessert in a tall goddamn glass.”
Johnnie leaned forward. “Wait, you know that, Christopher?”
Eyeing Johnnie with hatred, Diesel leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. Johnnie smirked at Diesel.
“You’re going to be next on our list, Uncle Johnnie,” Ryder said casually, glancing around again as he’d been doing since he arrived. Missing Axel, probably.
“Fuck, just give me the apple pie,” Digger grouched.
“I hope Meggie comes home soon,” Bishop said from where he sat between Val and Mortician. “I have pictures to show her. My sister loves the baby stuff.”
“I have to talk to her, too,” Kaia piped in. Even though he was over eighteen, they forced him to sit with CJ. Now, they just ignored him.
“When Ax gets here, I suggest you leave Dad alone, Uncle Johnnie,” Ryder continued. “He won’t take kindly to that.”
“If you do to my house what you did to Cash, I’ll beat the fuck out of you,” Johnnie spat. “Kids or not.”
Christopher wouldn’t bother to threaten Johnnie anymore. The shit didn’t work anyway. Besides, after his conversation with Diesel about Bash and Johnnie the other night, Christopher’s anger burned as brightly as ever, but he pitied Johnnie, too.
“They’re fucking with you, Johnnie,” Cash said at Christopher’s silence. “I knew they were upset about Outlaw, but it was more because of Fee. Axel misunderstood what he saw.”