Chapter 38b. Mortician #2
“CJ waiting for me,” he said, once he’d parked the van and he and Harley stood outside the entrance. “Want to come in and say hi?”
“No, Daddy.” Unbidden, she hugged him and laid her head against his chest. “I love you.”
Mort kissed her cheek. “I love you too, baby girl. Come in for just a minute, then I’ll walk you to Zoann’s.”
“It’s okay. I need the time alone.” She gave him one last hug and walked away.
Mort watched her until she used her keycard to enter the private gate and she disappeared around the curve of the forest trail.
He didn’t have a lot of time to spend with CJ, so he hoped the kid didn’t have anything heavy to talk to him about.
The usual motherfuckers were there, and a flash of wistfulness hit Mort.
Not too long ago, the usual motherfuckers included men he’d come up in the club with.
Motherfuckers he’d met in the club. Now, most of the old-timers were divided because of Johnnie and the young motherfuckers were closer to Diesel.
CJ sat at Outlaw’s table with Grant, Ryan, and Rory. The moment CJ spotted Mort, he waved.
“Hey, kid,” Mort greeted, offering Grant a two-fingered salute and nodding to Rory and Ryan. “I don’t have a lot of time, so—”
“Uncle Mort, I think Nardo is fucking with Harley and I need you to show me what to do in the meatshack,” CJ blurted, shocking the fuck out of Mort. “That motherfucker won’t live long enough to star in his goddamn play.”
The other three didn’t seemed surprised at CJ’s words. Mort dropped heavily into his seat, thought back to Harley’s behavior at Tee’s, remembering how Grant and Mattie showed up at the house out of the blue.
“That’s what you and Mattie came to talk to me about, huh, Grant?” Mort whispered. “Last Monday.”
“I’m sorry, Mort,” Grant told him. “It just seemed like such bad fucking timing.”
Fuck, it was even worse. “Harley take precedence.” He was such a bad fucking father to his baby girl. How the fuck could he have lost himself so fucking much that he couldn’t even recognize she was in trouble? “How you found out?”
He searched each of the boys’ faces, desperate for answers.
“Mattie,” CJ answered, and explained about the meeting she’d called. “Then, that motherfucker confronted me today. I haven’t been able to contact Harley. I realized she doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“The question is why, Uncle Mort,” Rory said, and looked between Ryan and CJ before swallowing. “Her whole crash out was because of CJ. She would ignore you to talk to him.”
“Harley would ignore God to talk to CJ,” Ryan said, worry in his eyes.
And something else. Something close to fear.
And guilt? “The point is, Harley’s in trouble if she isn’t answering CJ.
I think Mom suspects something. That’s why she’s become so protective of her and spends so much time with her. ”
Mort’s heart began beating in a painful rhythm. He knew Chester’s history. If she suspected… “What she think wrong with her?” he pushed out, somehow.
“Which she?” CJ asked carefully.
“Either one.”
“Mattie thinks Nardo’s abusing her,” CJ said, then proceeded to tell him about Axel’s encounter with Dead Jr.
“We were gathering information,” Rory said.
“To do fucking what?” Mortician demanded. “Wait until that motherfucker left her body somewhere?”
CJ went white and his eyes widened.
“I’m sorry,” Mort said immediately. “It’s not on you. None of you. This on me.”
“Uncle Mort, you didn’t know,” CJ told him quietly, still rattled by Mort’s question. “But you can’t do anything to Nardo. He isn’t eighteen.”
“I don’t give a good fuck—”
“I’m not eighteen either,” CJ inserted. “That’s why we didn’t ask Diesel or Bishop here. The only reason I invited Grant was because Mattie asked him to our meeting. But he won’t be in the meatshack with us.”
“No, fuck no.” Mort pounded the table with his fist. “No, that motherfucker mine. He could be fifteen like Harley—”
“You’re drawing attention, Uncle Mort,” CJ told him.
Wildness crept into Mort, worse than what he’d felt when Digger confessed to stealing Meggie’s money.
Worse than anything he’d ever experienced as an adult other than when Sharper took Bailey.
Losing his mother when he’d been a child started him on his journey to where he was, but he’d compartmentalized it and moved on.
She mattered to him and always would. She’d shown him how to love as a father and a brother.
But after he’d gotten over his grief, he hadn’t allowed her death to matter and dictate his life.
He’d done the same with Big Joe, K-P, and Tyler.
He’d boxed away that ache, that longing for a different outcome, for them to still be alive and thriving.
But Harley? His baby girl? He wanted to howl at the fucking moon and sob like a bitch. He couldn’t imagine her in pain or afraid or…
“I should’ve killed that motherfucker today.”
“And you would’ve gone to fucking jail, Mort.”
Mortician blinked at the sound of Digger’s voice. The motherfucker hadn’t come to the common room since last Friday, the night Prez stomped and shot his stupid ass.
Grant had wheeled him at the end of the table, since both his legs and arms were still in casts. He also wore a neck brace and a bandage around his head. The swelling in his face had gone down a little.
“I’m her daddy,” Mort said, done with his inventory of Digger’s injuries. “I’m fucking required to catch a murder charge if someone fucks with her.”
“No, you required to stay the fuck out of jail and do shit like normal. Scoop up his daddy and let little bruh—” he nodded to CJ— “handle his son.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“I didn’t get the fuck up out of my sick bed in case you needed a motherfucker to talk sense into you only for you to be a stupid motherfucker. That’s my specialty…wait…did I just…?”
“Call yourself a stupid motherfucker?” CJ asked. “You did.”
“Forget I said that. My fucking point is…I don’t know. All I know is I’m in a lot of fucking pain. And if Outlaw find out I look like a mummy motherfucker and not one for real, he might fucking change that. I’d prefer to get the fuck back in my room and continue suffering and hiding.”
“Dad knows where you’re at, Uncle Digger,” CJ snapped. “If he wanted to fucking kill you, he would have.”
“Thank you for calling me, CJ.” Digger hung his head. “I’m so fucking sorry. I broke Bunny heart. She so fucking mad at me, even though she come every day to take care of me.”
“Digger, shut the fuck up or go back to your fucking room,” Mort said, uninterested in Digger’s issues or anyone’s. This was about Harley. He stormed to his feet. “You came to talk to me. Now, I need to snatch those motherfuckers for fucking with Harley.”
“Uncle Mort, let us do it,” Rory begged, almost breathless with anticipation. “Nardo’s a kid.”
“Outlaw will understand—”
“Yeah, Uncle Mort, my dad will.” CJ nodded to Rory. “His won’t.”
Ryan shifted in his seat. “He’s already divided the club. He has enough power to sanction you or take away your patch and overrule whatever Uncle Christopher might decide.”
“My dad isn’t thinking clearly right now,” Rory said, forever a Johnnie apologist. “Until he does again, we can’t rock the boat. This is the only way.”
“In the meantime, Mort,” Digger said, grunting. “Pretend shit okay. Especially around Johnnie. Show CJ what he need to do. He can get Nardo while you get Daddy Dead Fuckhead.”
“If they hurting Harley, I’m not waiting longer than Monday to fuck those motherfuckers up,” Mortician spat, then looked at CJ.
He knew his eyes were angry and his expression unfriendly.
“If you not up to speed by then, I’m killing both those fuckheads.
” He transferred his glare to Rory. “And fuck Johnnie.”