Chapter Thirty-Four – Easton
The blonde at the bar was fucking hot, a newcomer to Bash’s clubhouse that had Easton’s balls throbbing the moment he walked downstairs to get food for him and Molly.
She was slightly better, but not much, dying a slow death rather than the quick one Bash had intended if Easton kept his cock to himself.
The memory of that gross abuse killed his desire for the unknown blonde and he swept his gaze over the crowded room, finding Bash at his table. For the first time in days, Tio was there, still bandaged and wearing various casts.
Diesel would’ve done Easton a great fucking service if he’d killed that motherfucker.
“Easton!” Randolph called, also at Bash’s table, along with Cleaner, Wally, Jr., and his hulkish sons. “Come and sit with us.”
He wished the motherfucker hadn’t called attention to him. He preferred his room, stewing in guilt and self-hatred in silence.
“Come on, boy.” Bash waved him over, as usual ignoring or not seeing Cleaner and Tio’s hatred. “Now, Easton.”
Forced to obey, Easton pretended he didn’t have a care in the world and sauntered to the table, heading to the chair next to Randolph.
Bash picked up his phone and looked at the screen. “Cleaner, move. Easton needs a seat.”
Easton bit back a cough. Under other circumstances, Cleaner’s shock would’ve pleased the fuck out of him, but Bash was gambling with Easton’s fucking neck. Bash wasn’t always around, which was when Cleaner was at his fucking worse.
By the look in his eyes, Easton’s painful and gruesome death was imminent. Fuck it. After he’d been forced to fuck Molly, he probably didn’t even deserve to live. His mother would be as ashamed of him as he was of himself.
“Sit down, Easton,” Bash gritted. “I’m not telling you again, motherfucker.”
Cleaner started toward the chair Easton would’ve sat in. Not trusting that psycho, Easton went in the fucking opposite direction.
Bash drew his brows together, his pale green gaze shifting between Cleaner and Easton, until Easton sat the fuck down.
“You got a problem, boy?” Bash asked, pinning Easton with a look.
“Not at all, Bash,” Easton said politely.
“Cleaner?”
Cleaner smiled. “Bash?”
Fuckhead.
Bash bared his teeth. “Easton’s my kid. I expect no harm to come to him and I expect you to protect him as you’d protect me or that motherfucker.
” He jabbed a thumb in Tio’s direction. “If my boy comes to any harm, your skull is joining the motherfuckers in the back. That goes for any of you fuckheads.”
“Even me, Dad?” Tio asked, sitting on Bash’s right.
“Stupid cunt.” Bash leaned over and hit Tio’s head, still bandaged and barely healed from the concussion he’d suffered.
“You shut the fuck up. You’re lucky you squirted out my cock and met your Aunt Celia.
I would’ve fucking buried you. If you don’t keep your fucking mouth shut, I might cut your fucking tongue. ”
“ELIZA!” Wally, Jr. suddenly howled, scaring the fuck out of most of the motherfuckers. “I miss my bitch. ELIZA, ELIZA, ELIZA.”
“You want to join that bitch?” Bash snapped. “If you do, open your goddamn mouth again. If you don’t, shut the fuck up.”
Wally, Jr. face-planted on the table, his little body shuddering. Somehow, he managed to hold in his sobs.
“Dad,” Wally said, sniffling. “We got new video. It’ll cheer you up. It’s Mattie. You’ve never seen her.”
Mattie?
“Who—”
Before Bash got the question, Wally jumped up, aimed a remote at the monitor and pressed play.
Fuck. It. All.
It was that Mattie. Johnnie’s daughter. Kendall’s daughter. Underaged and naked and exposed.
Ryan, that little motherfucker.
“I like Rebel better,” Wally, Jr. sniffled.
Easton got to his feet, unable to stand this fucking illegal, perverted travesty. He should just shoot the fuck out of Molly, so he could put himself out of his own fucking misery.
“Sit down, Easton,” Bash ordered, standing and pulling his gun.
“Shoot me,” Easton responded, not giving a fuck.
Grinning like a madman, Bash aimed the gun at Easton’s head. Instead of shooting him, he turned and shot the monitor with those big ass bullets and high-powered semi-automatic pistol.
“I don’t want to fucking see Rebel or Harley around this motherfucker,” Bash announced, calmly returning to his seat as if that fucking monitor didn’t have its internal wiring exposed and wasn’t smoking.
“And I especially don’t want to see Mattie.
That’s Kendall’s daughter. Next time I see either one of those three cunts, I’m shooting the fuck out of you two motherfuckers, then summoning Ryan and shooting him. ”
No one said a fucking thing. Easton was certain, the rest of the dinner would’ve passed in silence if Grover hadn’t led in an older blonde woman, sparkling with diamonds, and oozing condescension.
“Are you Mr. Bash?” she asked, looking directly at Bash.
“I don’t fuck old cunts, so leave.”
She blinked, walked closer, not taking the hint.
“You must be him. You look just like…” She gave a tight smile. “Outlaw,” she finished, although Easton doubted that’s what she really wanted to say. “You look like Outlaw.”
“Who the fuck’s asking and what the fuck do you want, cunt?” Bash demanded, not in a killing mood today. Otherwise, she would’ve been dead.
“I’m Charlotte Redding.”
She was who?
“That fainting pussy’s bitch?” Cleaner asked, laughing.
She drew herself up. “When Brooks is overwhelmed with threats of violence, his adrenaline spikes, so he loses consciousness.”
“Get the fuck up, Willard. You too, Wally. Take your old man with you.” Once they complied, Bash pointed to a seat. “What brings you here, Lottie?”
“I do not adhere to nicknames, Mr. Bash.”
“It’s Mr. Caldwell, and I don’t give a fuck.”
She sat at the end of the table, set her expensive handbag down, and smiled. “I just won’t answer you.”
“And I’ll just fucking kill you,” Bash snapped.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
Bash started to raise his gun, but Easton caught his hand. “Kendall adores this woman,” he whispered.
“Are you fucking with me to save this cunt?”
“I swear. Ask her to call Kendall.”
Bash yanked his hand away and set the gun in front of him. “Call Kendall.”
“What do you want to say to the child?”
“Nothing. I want you to talk to her. Your fucking life depends on it.”
“You’ll really kill me?” she squeaked, finally getting a fucking clue.
Easton shook his head. “Just call her.”
“I’m here to save my husband. Not involve Kendall. Besides, they can’t know I’m here. You’ll understand why when you hear what I have to say. My husband thinks I’m on a spa trip.”
Thinking fast, Easton pulled out his phone and dialed Rory’s number, putting it on speaker.
“Hold on,” the kid answered almost immediately, barely audible because of background noise. “What’s up, DeLuca?” he asked a minute later.
“A situation has arisen,” Easton said.
“You’re telling me. My dad is so fucking cooked. Uncle Christopher just shot five motherfuckers and was about to kill eight women. Jesus Christ.”
Bash paled and Easton scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Why’d he do that?” Bash pushed out.
Rory was silent for a moment, then he said, “Bash?”
“Why’d he…?” Bash looked at Cleaner and then Tio. “Is there a problem?”
“I don’t know,” Rory admitted quietly. “Outlaw is back. That’s usually a good thing, but Dad’s an idiot and he’s going to get himself fucking killed. And…and Aunt Celia came by again—”
“You call Celia ‘aunt’?” Bash breathed.
“Isn’t she?” Rory asked hesitantly.
“She is,” Bash said. “Just didn’t think she’d be afforded that respect.”
“We all call her aunt, Bash.”
“You don’t call me uncle.”
“She came as a friend. You came as a foe.”
“She came to save my fucking life.”
“I need someone to save my dad’s.”
“Talk to Meggie.” Cleaner snickered. “I forgot. She’s gone.”
“No, she’s back, and she didn’t care that Uncle Christopher killed those fuckheads. This entire evening has been fucking unreal.”
“I’m going to straighten it out,” Bash swore. “I got a message from your mother asking for us to meet this Sunday.”
“Come correctly, Bash. Please,” Rory croaked. “My dad’s life depends on it.”
“Do you know a Charlotte Redding?” Bash asked, sighing and changing the fucking subject.”
“Grandmother?” Rory’s voice shook. “That’s Gramps’s wife. Why?” he asked suspiciously.
“You call Brooks Redding ‘Gramps’?” Bash asked.
“I do, so do my brothers and sister.”
Bash grunted. “How does Kendall feel about that cunt?”
“Mom loves her. She’s known the Reddings for about twenty years. They’ve helped her through a lot. Why?” Rory asked again.
“No reason, kid. Disconnect the call, Easton.”
“Later, Rory,” Easton said, not wanting to agitate Bash.
His hands shaking, Bash lit a cigarette and sidled his gaze toward the gorgeous blonde, still at the bar, taking in everything. “Tio’s nurse and your cocksucker, Easton.”
“I’m not sharing with him, Dad,” Tio spat.
Bash’s gaze flickered to his gun, and Tio snapped his mouth shut. “One cunt at a time, I suppose.” He looked at Charlotte. “Tell me about this offer and then get the fuck out of my face before I decide to fucking kill you because I don’t like your fucking smirk.”
“As barbaric as Outlaw, Mr. Bash,” Charlotte said with disapproval.
Bash frowned. “Mr. Caldwell.”
“Lady, if I were you, I’d speak my peace and then get the fuck out,” Randolph told her.
Charlotte sniffed and wrinkled her nose as if a foul odor wafted into her delicate nostrils. “I love Brooks. I know he has run afoul of you more than once. What if I can deliver Megan Caldwell to you in exchange for my dear husband’s lasting life?”
First, she’d shocked the fuck out of Easton by showing her fucking ass there. Now, she left him fucking speechless.
“Is that motherfucker immortal, Lottie?”
Charlotte scowled and folded her arms.
“We’re all dying one fucking day. I was just thinking about helping him along.”
Her hands flew to her mouth. “So you do intend to kill him!” she gasped.