Chapter 44b Christopher #2
“Ever thought how your ma might feel if she find out her son sent an innocent girl to her death cuz he was a jealous motherfucker?”
He started to cry.
“I asked Stretch to see the fuckin’ records myself.
He still ain’t brought them. Cuz, see, there’s a conspiracy around this motherfucker to protect fuckheads that don’t deserve protectin’.
My head been every fuckin’ where than where the fuck it shoulda been.
At the fuckin’ least, my club coulda shared that fuckin’ space.
But I fuckin’ thought motherfuckers had enough honor and fairness to uphold the fuckin’ club while I saw to my fuckin’ wife. ”
His sobs rose.
“This past month been even worse fuckin’ hell than the previous two. I’m askin’ you point fuckin’ blank—what the fuck Bash want?”
He was so tired of that goddamn question, he planned to retire it from the fucking English language. But since Kendall went to the conference room and Christopher couldn’t hear the meeting, he still didn’t know why that motherfucker lurked.
Celia wanted peace. Motherfucking Bash might want war.
“Tell me now, Ryan, or forever hold your fuckin’ peace.”
“I don’t know what Bash wants.”
That was hard for Christopher to believe. “Eliza Bart ain’t come to this motherfucker lookin’ for you out of the fuckin’ blue.”
“We had…I had s-sex with her—” He sniffled.
“No, she forced herself on you,” Christopher grumbled, softening his tone.
“That cunt got what the fuck she deserved. What she did you wasn’t your fuckin’ fault.
Howfuckinever, you shouldna been fuckin’ around with those motherfuckers in the first fuckin’ place.
They don’t value no fuckin’ life or a motherfucker’s rights.
Not a kid’s and not a woman’s. That’s the fuckin’ reason I feel Megan in danger, but I can’t prove it.
If I try to take them out on my fuckin’ own and get fucked up, Megan dead, too.
Your ma. Your cousins. Your aunts. Only a few motherfuckers would stand by me or give their lives to protect our women. Your old man one of them.”
Ryan covered his face, close to breaking. Christopher considered shoving his gun against Ryan’s head and see if that got results. Or he might fucking faint and clam up when he woke the fuck up.
Instead of shaking the fuck out of Ryan, Christopher spoke again.
“What the fuck—” Distaste burrowed into him before he pushed the words out. “WhatthefuckBashwant?” He blurted the words so fast, the motherfuckers ran together.
“He thinks Aunt Meggie owns the club,” Ryan said, swiping his cheeks. “He wants his portion.”
“He think she own his portion or the entire fuckin’ club?”
Ryan hesitated.
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”
“The entire club,” he whispered.
“And he ain’t come to me why?”
“Because you killed Cee Cee.”
Christopher frowned. “I ain’t followin’ you.”
“In Bash’s eyes, Cee Cee was invincible. No one could take him out. You did. He thinks…he thinks…you’re Scar, Cee Cee was Mufasa, and he-he’s Simba.”
“Come fuckin’ again?”
Christopher had to have misheard Ryan’s mumble. Bash equated himself to the motherfucking Lion King?
“Sometimes, when Bash was high and I was visiting Willard and Wally, we’d watch the Lion King. He always sobbed through Mufasa’s death.”
Laughter exploded from Christopher. Bash identifying with the Lion King was as high in ironic fuckeduppedness as Snake’s shopping addiction. “The motherfucker shoulda just watched Hamlet. It’s a better goddamn look.”
“Not many people know the connection.”
“Where you watched it? Here or Salt Lake City?”
“Both.”
“When was the last time you visited Salt Lake City?”
“December 30th. With Uncle Johnnie.”
“When was the last time you talked to any of those motherfuckers?”
Ryan squirmed. “When CJ was in the hospital after his overdose. I was at Turn Creek. I thought they had Molly. At least according to what Willard alluded to. It was Diana, though. Wally, Jr. killed her.”
Christopher considered that revelation. Motherfucking Johnnie. He’d given up Joplin and Gail’s whereabouts, more than likely gotten from Bash.
Stupid fucking brainless motherfucker. Johnnie still wanted to save the fucking day.
Drawing in a deep breath so he wouldn’t keel the fuck over, Christopher scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Bash wants his share,” Ryan repeated. “Mainly money.”
“Johnnie was sendin’ him money.”
“He’s an addict, Uncle Christopher. He burned through that.”
He hadn’t seemed high today.
“So even if I gave him whatever the fuck he think he owed, he’d try to shake us down for more?”
“Or OD.”
OD?
Fuck, why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? Bash’s addiction was well known and the solution to Christopher’s fucking problems. Not a motherfucker alive could accuse Christopher of fucking Bash up, if the motherfucker OD’d, especially if he was desperate for a hit.
Christopher offering Bash a lifetime supply of drugs as payment would be a delicate game requiring patience. If the motherfucker keeled the fuck over after the first shipment, the scheme would be up.
“The Gnomes a shadow club for the Scorpions?” Christopher asked.
“I don’t know. It’s more about family ties.” Gulping, Ryan snapped his mouth shut.
“I already fuckin’ know all the fucked up connections, Ryan.”
Not answering, Ryan pushed back from the table and went to stand.
“Ain’t said you could go.”
“I only came because…because…” He hung his head.
“Cuz seein’ CJ finally accept it ate you up with fuckin’ guilt and regret and made you fuckin’ realize what the fuck you did.”
“Yes,” Ryan whispered. “Don’t tell Mom. She won’t ever…
she’ll stop loving me. Pops will stop liking me.
I’m so sorry.” His tortured gaze met Christopher’s.
“I have to live with this for the rest of my life. And don’t…
don’t tell CJ. We just…we’re just becoming friends and…
he suspects me, but he doesn’t have proof. ”
Christoper bared his teeth. He had the same problem with Val and Megan. After all these fucking years, that shit still reared its ugly fucking head. Betrayal fueled mistrust wasn’t easily overcome. Instincts blared. Evidence lagged. And fucking family tied motherfucking hands.
Even if he didn’t fuck Val up, exposing that motherfucker would devastate Zoann. Christopher’s only consolation was Val had been drugged up when he attacked Megan, and he’d never used hard drugs again.
Motherfucking Johnnie though?
CJ’s suspicions of Ryan?
Entirely fucking different.
Johnnie betrayed Christopher in an effort to best him. After killing their club members, Johnnie had now betrayed the fucking club.
“Regret and guilt ain’t bringin’ her back, Ryan,” Christopher said, getting back to the matter at hand.
Bleakness darkened Ryan’s eyes.
Christopher squeezed the bridge of his nose.
“You was so fucked up for doin’ that to her, but the shit done.
We got efuckinuff pain and heartache. I ain’t tellin’ your ma or CJ, but Val gotta know.
He gotta beat the fuck outta you for doin’ that shit.
Your old man fuckin’ you up could be for any fuckin’ reason.
Me stompin’ the fuck outta you and breakin’ every fuckin’ bone in your goddamn body might make your ma ask fuckin’ questions.
” He thought about it. “Then, she’d be upset. ”
“How do I live with what I did?”
“By not fuckin’ doin’ shit like that again.
You got a problem with CJ, take it the fuck out on him.
Leave innocent girls alone. Then, just try to do fuckin’ better.
Think about what the fuck you do and consider all sides.
Respect and fairness everything, Ryan. It’s the only fuckin’ way you can look yourself in the mirror cuz of all the other shit we fuckin’ do. ”
A knock came on the door.
“Come the fuck in.”
Mortician walked in, followed by Val and Rory, who was almost chomping at the fucking bit. They glanced at Ryan, then looked at Christopher.
“Prez, we got a situation,” Mort started.
“It’s Molly,” Rory blurted before Mort continued. “Bash brought her back.”