Chapter 44b Christopher
Mom wanted answers. He could see it in her eyes, but he didn’t want to rat out DeLuca. Yeah, the motherfucker was a Scorpion, but deep down, Rory was convinced if he hung around the Dwellers long enough, he’d patch over.
“Molly Harris?” Uncle Mort questioned and cocked his head to the side. “How you so sure about that?”
Rory swallowed, glancing from Mom to Uncle Mort, before shoving the key in his pocket.
“Did you contact Bash beforehand?” Mom asked.
She looked hurt to her soul and worn out. Rory hated his father a little more. The opposing feelings overwhelmed and confused him.
“I didn’t, Mom.”
Hope entered her eyes. “Johnnie arranged this?”
“Please,” Rory said, sharp disapproval ringing in his words. “You know better.”
Uncle Mort studied him. Lit a cigarette and still kept his gaze on Rory. Took a few drags. He held out his pack of cigarettes to Rory. “Prez gonna wanna know how Bash got a request from you.”
Rory lit the cigarette he’d taken from Uncle Mort’s pack. “It could’ve been from Dad.”
“Refer to the previous statement you gave your mama, little dude,” Uncle Mort said.
“Son?”
Puffing on his cigarette, then taking it between his two fingers, Rory lowered his gaze. “If I don’t tell, Uncle Christopher won’t help her?”
“We’ll get her before we head back to the club,” Mom said briskly.
Relief flowed through Rory and he looked at his mother, smiling. Her hair blanketed her shoulders, her updo ruined during her fight with Dad. She’d worn her contacts again today. Otherwise, her glasses would’ve been in danger of damage. Rory still couldn’t believe that motherfucker shoved Mom.
“You going back to the club, Red.” Uncle Mort eyed Rory. “Not too sure if I should send you with her. I’ll ask Prez when I call him.”
“She might need a woman there,” Mom argued. “God only knows what those assholes did to her.”
“If its Molly.”
Uncle Mort’s harsh words burst Rory’s bubble.
“Wh-what do you mean, Uncle Mort?”
“It could be a set-up, Rory,” he responded. “Motherfuckers laying in wait. Or—” He drew in a harsh breath. “It could be her body.”
Mom and Rory gasped. He hadn’t thought of that possibility.
Dullness dropped into Mom’s expression; she wilted. Nodded.
“We escorting you back to the club,” Uncle Mort said. “Can’t trust Bash not to try some shit. By the time we arrive, Prez will decide what to do.”
Standing in the conference room once he watched Bash leave Kendall’s office in one camera frame, then hop on his bike and ride away in another, Christopher glanced around, annoyed to fuck that he’d spent two goddamn hours watching Mort and Val in the waiting room, barely opening their goddamn mouths.
He really didn’t have the motherfucking attention span for that level of non-communication.
Now, Kendall had her meeting and Christopher was still fucking clueless.
Growling, he thrust his fingers through the hair on the top of his head. He considered watching that fucked-up video again. He wanted to really listen to the part about Ma. Something was niggling at him. About him. About Zoann.
Fuck. He just needed to accept Ma was…whoever. Flawed and fucked up but scarred. If she’d sought revenge, it didn’t fit the woman he remembered. But, fuck, he hadn’t known she’d married Cee Cee.
He was used to motherfuckers who showed their real selves. Good or fucking bad. But Ma? He didn’t know what the fuck to think.
Christopher drew in a breath. It was Sunday. He should’ve been home with Megan and their kids, basking in her love and forgiveness. But he couldn’t let Kendall face Bash on her own.
He’d considered going there, then changed his mind. Whatever answers she wanted, she might not get if Bash saw him. He hoped like fuck Johnnie behaved. Christopher wouldn’t have been able to listen to that whiny motherfucker without shooting the fuck out of him.
Without warning his door opened and he frowned, ready to blast the intruder. It was Ophelia, looking the fucking worse for wear. She’d definitely seen better days.
Her sucked-on-a-lemon look annoyed him.
“What the fuck you want, Fee?”
Her frowny face got a little more fucked up. “I guess Meggie told you just how I lit into her last week.”
“Megan ain’t mentioned fuck all. You was the only bitch that opened her fuckin’ mouth. Tell me what the fuck you want or get the fuck out.”
“I want to talk to you about Cash. And Celia,” she added.
“Fuck Cash. Case fuckin’ closed. What the fuck about Celia?”
“I’ve been your sister all your life. And Cash…I love Cash.”
“Fuckin’ ‘A’, Fee. Cash love Cash too, so I guess you in good fuckin’ company. And you still my fuckin’ sister. What the fuck you talkin’ about?”
“Is Cash still a member of your club?”
“Yep, but not a member of my fuckin’ family.”
“That isn’t fair! You beat him and he’s willing to forgive you.”
“Ain’t givin’ a good fuck if he never talk to me again. It would save me the fuckin’ trouble of ignorin’ that motherfucker.”
She stomped her foot. “I’m your sister. He’s my….my…him. My Cash. He’s my person.”
“That motherfucker could be your motherfuckin’ pigeon. That ain’t my fuckin’ problem. Megan made me tolerate Kendall for years and I was fuckin’ fine not talkin’ to her. Your motherfucker probably still comin’ to family functions. I just ain’t recognizin’ him.”
“Meggie will probably feel the same way,” Ophelia said with a little sniff.
Christopher shrugged. “So far, he still on her No-Kill list.”
“And if he wasn’t?”
“He’d be bug food.”
“But—”
“My suggestion to your motherfuckin’ ass is to get right with Megan. She got the power to keep me from killin’ your fuckin’ person.”
“Now that you have Celia, you don’t care how you hurt me,” Ophelia cried, turned and almost ran Bunny over in her haste to escape.
What the fuck was this? Sad-bitch-find-Outlaw-day?
Bunny had always been a little leery of him. She was probably doubly so now after he tried to break all of her motherfucker’s bones. She was Megan’s friend, and Mort’s sister-in-law, so Christopher relented.
“How Digger?”
“Healing.” She shut the fuck up.
Christopher wanted to get home to Megan. Fuck that video. He wouldn’t watch it tonight because he didn’t have time to fuck around with that fucking video right now and the lies of two flaming fuckheads. He’d wanted answers; he just hadn’t realized how much of them he wouldn’t fucking like.
He was hoping Kendall arrived before he jetted. He had a goddamn bone to pick with her. She’d gone completely off the motherfucking script, promising to stay within range of the cameras in her office.
He couldn’t help but smile. Kendall would forever be Kendall. That bitch never did what was expected.
Bunny shifted from foot-to-foot.
Folding his arms, Christopher glowered at her.
“If this is about Digger, he ain’t out bad,” he said. He didn’t have fucking time to wait until she fixed her fucking mouth to talk. “He got one more fuckin’ time to fuck with my woman and he will be out dead. Got me?”
“Thank you for not killing him.”
She shut the fuck up afuckingain and didn’t get the fuck.
“What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want?”
Bunny’s face crumpled and her shoulders sagged. “This is about Mortician,” she pushed out. “Last Tuesday—”
“Outlaw?” Ryan called, halting when he saw Bunny but not turning around. “Uh, Uncle Christopher…Outlaw?”
Leaning against the table, Christopher lifted at brow at Ryan’s stammering. The little motherfucker looked as if he hadn’t slept a wink in days.
Unprompted, he walked in. “I-I need to talk to you.” Looking at the floor, he shoved his hands in his pockets.
Judging by his shame and fear, Christopher knew what the fuck that motherfucker wanted to say weeks too fucking late. If he’d opened his fucking mouth sooner, they might’ve saved her. Howfuckinever, Bunny was there first and he wanted to know what was going on with Mortician.
“I-I’ll leave,” she said, and nearly ran out of the door she walked so fucking fast.
Christopher let her go and walked to his chair near the window at the head of the table. “Say what the fuck you got to say about Molly, fuckhead.”
He’d seen Ryan’s reaction during CJ’s break. Ryan had looked as if he wanted to fall to his knees as well. Except regret and guilt kept that motherfucker standing.
Ryan nodded. “It is. She’s…I know…” Tears rushed to his eyes and he shook his head. “I want her back and I’m sorry…I’m so sorry about everything I’ve done. Everyone I’ve hurt.”
Christopher glowered at him.
“That’s…that’s all…” He turned toward the door, still a motherfucking coward. Doing dirty underhanded shit and refusing to own up.
“Sit the fuck down,” Christopher ordered.
Ryan hung his head.
“Ain’t asked you, motherfucker.”
It took a minute, but Ryan finally reached the chair to Christopher’s right. Elbows on table, he cradled his head.
“Ain’t no fuckin’ secret I ain’t been myself,” Christopher started.
“Shit I shoulda noticed just breezed the fuck by me. For instance, no matter how many fuckin’ times I reviewed that fuckin’ security footage, watchin’ Tom Harris enter the hospital, then leave with Molly, I ain’t ever understood how that motherfucker knew what time none of the Dwellers would be there.
When me or Megan visited Jo, we’d check on Molly.
Roxanne, Zoann, Kendall, and Grant visited.
Billson and Ember LeBan visited. CJ. And you.
Except the last twenty-four hours she was there. ”
Ryan flinched.
Christopher leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him.
Something he’d kept from everybody, but especially Bitsy.
It would devastate her, knowing what her boy did to an innocent girl because he was a jealous, miserable motherfucker.
“You know what the fuck else I fuckin’ found fuckin’ funny? ”
Silence.
“When Stretch pulled your fuckin’ phone records, Tom Harris’s number was on them.”
The color dropped from Ryan’s face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.