Chapter 16b Meggie #2
As she listened to the priest, she realized she didn’t need anymore children.
She didn’t deserve the ones she had. Even before she knew the extent of her mother and Patricia’s vileness, she’d intended to end the cycle of trauma, abuse, and neglect with love and patience.
Her mother had been so strict and rigid, she’d chosen the opposite parenting style.
Now, the Triplets ran amok, Rebel fought at the drop of a hat, and Rule was institutionalized.
CJ was the one she’d devoted most of her time to in his formative years.
He was the most well-adjusted and mannerly of all her kids.
Maybe too much so, considering how he was floundering.
She had a plan for a smoother transition for all her sons, especially since it worked for Diesel.
Well, up to a point.
But what did she know? She’d failed her children from the beginning, so her great plans for CJ’s ‘smooth transition’ probably would’ve fallen apart as well.
“If Outlaw thought you were fit to handle Rule’s care, I wouldn’t be in charge, would I?”
Christopher must’ve talked to the priest about how he felt. They’d always had a very contentious relationship, but lately up was down and right was left. Nothing made sense anymore.
“I’ll pay you.”
“Ha. I have my own debt to settle, and Rule is giving me that opportunity.”
“Please,” she said again. “I don’t know what you did to get on Christopher’s bad side, but using my son to repay that isn’t the way to do it. You don’t have Rule’s best interest in mind if that’s the case.”
“Don’t think you know what goes on inside me. Great minds think alike, madam. Exactly when have you ascended to my level?”
“Let me come and talk to you and his doctor.”
“No.”
“Rebel has a letter she’d like to give to you so you can pass to Rule whenever he’s better.”
“If we wanted you to have a say-so, you would have. We don’t. You cannot see him. Goodnight, madam,” he said, and hung up.
Gripping the phone, Meggie burst into tears and nausea swirled in her. Not having the energy to clean vomit, she rushed to the bathroom and threw up everything she’d eaten.
Once her stomach was empty and she rinsed out her mouth, she staggered back to bed. The priest’s firm stance was another reminder about why she was in LA and Christopher was in Hortensia. Every time he looked at her, he found something new to blame her for.
And that hurt the most.
Maybe she needed to take Mortician’s advice. Return to being Christopher’s Sweet Angel.
Or, maybe, she needed to conk Christopher in the head and knock some sense into him.
But this was her fault, too. He’d never made it a secret that she was his main priority. As long as she was fine, Christopher could think clearly. While she’d been recovering from Jo’s birth, Christopher had focused on her and had floundered, neglecting his health and their children.
Christopher had lost himself. Because of her.
Or…
Maybe…
Christopher needed to sit down so he could get his full Outlaw on. Outlaw could hold it all together. Christopher, like Val, was kind of a himbo.
Narrowing her eyes, Meggie pursed her lips. She’d already told her husband Outlaw needed to return. Maybe she needed to show him?
The question was how.
Everyone was going at Christopher at once. Rule was institutionalized. Johnnie was a traitor. The priest was out of control. Cash was a disappointment. Digger was a thief. Bash was a threat. Diesel was an idiot. CJ was a concern.
There was no other way to describe her two eldest sons as much as it behooved her.
Allies were few. Among the OGs and their family, it was Mortician, Val, and Stretch. She could count Digger if she wanted to be technical. But it wasn’t about surface level and she needed absolutes. Because, technically, Diesel and CJ weren’t traitors, but they were problems.
She could count Bishop, Potter, Narci, Huck, Pike, Zephyr, and Torrin as allies of Christopher, but not of her.
The younger club girls saw her and the old ladies as threats. Now, they feared Meggie because Christopher killed Nyx.
An unfortunate fact but it was what it was. If that’s what it took for them to back away from Meggie and give her a little breathing room, then so be it. Again, her way of catching flies with honey as she’d boasted to Reb hadn’t worked.
Exactly what could she do with the resources–and allies–she had?
Easton DeLuca rose in her head.
The idea of flirting with him to get under Christopher’s skin left her feeling a little icky. But suppose she got back home and Christopher still wasn’t treating her with any regard?
Would an attempt to make him jealous even matter? Probably not. Whatever else he might have forgotten about her, he knew she’d never willingly have sex with another man.
Swallowing, she sat up and shoved her covers aside, aching to have Christopher’s arms around her.
She walked to the bureau and opened the top drawer, pulling out the T-shirt Christopher had taken off the night before she left. Quickly, she changed from her nightie to the shirt and breathed in deep, smiling at his lingering scent.
“You my everyfuckinthing.” The words rose so clearly in her head, she glanced around to make sure Christopher wasn’t in the room. “I love you. I need you. I miss you. I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I get it, Megan.”
She was losing her mind. She certainly didn’t believe in a superpower, although she’d always thought the love she had for Christopher could be counted as hers.
Refusing to cry, she scampered back into bed and closed her eyes, hoping to settle down now that her husband’s smell surrounded her.