Chapter 31b. Mortician #2
After Roxanne, Red, and Chester terrorized Tee and Symphony because they were concerned at his vulnerable state, Mortician had had enough.
He also wasn’t sure when Meggie would return.
If she was still Hell Goddess, Mort didn’t trust her not to tap Diesel to kill Symphony and Tee.
He needed to nip shit in the bud before the girls took their warpath to an all out fucking rampage that left a swath of bloody corpses that met a gory end.
Walking into his house, he set his suitcase by the door, the low hum of voices reaching him. A heaviness hung in the air and he sighed, wondering if he was chasing fucking unicorns.
Each step down the hallway, toward the den, felt like a pace closer to his fucking execution.
Unlike the mansion in LA, Bailey decorated this house with their family in mind.
It didn’t only have black, white, or gray color schemes.
Nor was there too much marble, no crystal, or any other expensive décor like Kendall had in her house.
And it wasn’t a combination like Meggie’s, adapted to suit the life she wanted for her children and the world her husband lived in.
He was sure Meggie would’ve been perfectly happy in a reasonably sized house.
Over the years, Prez added more than a few rooms on the north side.
He went out and up. Meggie made do. She adapted, something she’d done in all areas of her life for as long as Mort had known her.
She consulted Prez for some of the rooms, even when her money paid for redecorations. It was more consideration than Bailey ever gave to Mort, though his money funded it all. It never mattered much to Mort beforehand. And it shouldn’t matter now when he looked around.
Bailey’s touch was everywhere with earthy colors and comfortable furnishings.
Welcoming and down-to-earth, like her. Or like she had been.
Pop art and family photos decorated their walls, not exclusive pieces that cost thousands.
She, like Harley, once loved window seats.
Mort had several installed during the last remodel.
He pretended he didn’t remember their family dinners they’d once hosted, before someone decided they should only be at Prez’s house as he passed the kitchen, silent and dark. No aromas of delicious food wafting in the air.
He didn’t want to think about their formal dining room with the sleek fireplace where he and Bailey had shared many a romantic evening because the boys were with Roxanne and Harley was with CJ.
Those memories hurt too much. They felt like a different lifetime—a different life. Here, with his family, he left Mortician behind. He wasn’t a killer, the killer for the club. He forgot the meatshack, the stench of death, the danger. He was husband, father, Lucas.
That wasn’t to say he didn’t consider Roxanne or Meggie or Kendall as his family. Their Mortician was different from the club’s Mortician, but he still wasn’t Lucas to them. He reserved that for Bailey.
She had to understand how much she meant to him. How much he treasured her, missed her, and wanted to help her. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe they’d ever go back to the place they’d been before she had her miscarriages. They could be so much better, though.
First, they needed to do right by Harley.
They were fucking adults. Enough was fucking enough.
And, yeah, Bailey might flip the fuck out and accuse him of putting Harley before her.
She’d just have to deal with that. Harley was fucking fifteen years old.
They were supposed to put their daughter first.
Finally, he was there, standing in the doorway of the den, taking in the scene.
Bailey in her oversized chair, presiding over everyone like a lonely little queen.
Harley squished between Bunny and Roxanne.
Lou and Kaleb sat across from one another at the custom-made chess table, while Knox and Zoann sat on opposite ends of the built in bar.
“Daddy!” Harley cried, noticing him first and jumping to her feet.
The relief and joy in her voice hit Mort in the center of his chest. He opened his arms to her and almost cried like a bitch when she launched herself against him, hugging him so tightly, he didn’t think she’d let go.
“Baby girl,” he said, lifting her off her feet and burying his nose in her hair to hide his sniffle. “I missed you so fucking much, Harley. And I’m so sorry for letting you down.”
She cried into his neck. “I’m sorry for being so mean and hateful,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you the way I did.”
“It’s okay, Harley—”
“It certainly isn’t okay,” Bailey inserted.
Setting Harley on her feet, Mort took her hand as he once did when she was a small kid and tugged her closer to Bailey. “Baby, it is. Forgive our baby girl, Bailey. Let it go. We all did fucked up shit in this situation.”
“That isn’t true! She’s a child. Whatever we did to her, it’s because of what she did to us. Me, especially.”
Harley stiffened and Mortician tensed, squeezing her hand. Hoping she took his cue. She did, swallowing whatever she’d been about to say.
“Why are you here, Lucas?” Bailey demanded. “Why are they here?”
Roxanne glowered at her.
“Babe,” Knox called.
Balling her hands into fists, Roxanne clenched her jaw.
Harley glanced at Chester, who nodded. Unfortunately, Bailey saw the interaction. The moment Harley spoke, Mortician knew shit would go sideways.
“I’m so sorry, Mommie. I didn’t mean to be so disrespectful to you or Lolly or Pop.” Still holding Mort’s hand, Harley looked at her brothers. “I’m sorry I was so mean to you, Lou. And you, Kale.”
The boys had missed her most of all. They needed no more incentive or conversation to forgive her, running from their seats and snatching her away from Mort to hug her and envelope her in love and absolution.
“It’s okay, sis,” Lou said, stepping back and smiling. “I even like your new style. Buttoned up from head to toe.”
Harley flushed. Laughing, Lou hugged her and Kaleb again.
Clapping broke the moment.
“Brava, Harley,” Bailey called. “If your apology was genuine, you wouldn’t have had to look to Zoann for permission.”
“Aunt Zoann is on your side, Mommie.”
“Oh, please. She’s unable to have a daughter of her own, so she’s trying to steal mine.”
Fury blanketed Chester’s face, but Mort cleared his throat, and she snapped her gaze to his.
“Breathe, baby,” he told her, halfway joking.
“Why are you here, Zoann?” Bailey asked sharply.
Chester wanted to fuck Bailey up. Instead of a verbal response, she glowered at her, promising painful retribution. She’d beat Bailey’s ass. Val wouldn’t involve himself. Prez might stand down this time. But, again…Meggie. Bailey wasn’t her favorite person.
Mort scrubbed a hand over his face. “I asked Chester to come because she told me all the strides Harley made. She can fill you in, Bailey.”
“And her?” She nodded to Bunny. “Why is she here?”
“Because that’s our sister-in-law. She need our support right now while Digger laid up.”
“What happened to him?” Bailey asked.
“Prez,” Mortician answered.
“And I’m just finding out about this? Didn’t you learn anything from your mistress?”
Symphony came to Mort’s mind and he squinted. Until Bailey’s satisfied smirk registered.
“You fucking bitch,” Roxanne said.
“What else is Meggie to Lucas?” Bailey asked. “She snaps her fingers. He goes running. I’m surprised you didn’t ask your precious CJ to join in.”
“Mommie?”
“Shut up, heifer,” Bailey snarled. “Does everything have to be breaking news around here? We have no privacy.”
Harley ran to Bailey and hugged her. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I did a lot in front of everybody. I think Daddy just wanted to—”
Bailey shoved Harley away.
Mort rushed forward and inserted himself between his wife and his daughter. “Bailey, keep your goddamn hands to yourself.”
“She had no fucking problem raising her hand to me.” She struggled to see around Mortician. “Suddenly, you know what my husband wants better than me. What about what I want? An apology.”
“Harley apologized, Mom,” Lou said. “She’s sorry.”
“Not sorry enough. Your sister only apologized because Zoann told her to.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you stupid bitch, does it really fucking matter if Bugs Bunny got her to this point?” Chester exploded, jumping from her seat and rushing to Bailey.
Placing his hand on Harley’s shoulder, Mort guided her back to the sofa, then stepped between Bailey and Chester.
Bailey hadn’t stood and Chester wouldn’t give a fuck. She’d beat Bailey to a fucking pulp even with the disadvantage.
“I want my family back,” Bailey said, beginning to cry.
Roxanne snorted. “You got a fucked way of showing that, cow.”
“But I want to matter. I want Harley to apologize to me because I deserve it. I want Bunny to realize we’re the head of the family. I want Kendall—and especially Meggie—to depend on their husbands instead of mine.”
“First, Bailey?” Mort held onto his patience and his sanity by a thread. “Roxanne the head of this family. We’re head of our house, but your mama mean everything to me. She stepped up and stepped in. That mean Knox at her side.”
“Since when?” Bailey said, scowling. “You don’t listen to a thing he says.”
“He means figuratively, sweetheart,” Knox told her, sitting a little taller at Mortician’s inclusion.
Bailey didn’t respond. Harley grabbed both Bunny and Roxanne’s hands. Roxanne gave Harley an encouraging smile and Bunny put an arm around her shoulders.
“Second?” Mort continued, capturing Bailey’s liquid green-brown gaze and holding it, losing hope that he’d ever get through to her. “Prez the head of our extended family.”
“Of course. Can’t leave Meggie out.”