Chapter Seven #2

Christopher hadn’t been happy. Fucking Torie betrayed Megan.

Diesel knew what that cunt put them through, yet he still stuck his cock in her?

By the time Christopher left the office, he and Diesel made up.

He couldn’t stay mad at his own son. He’d warned him not to do that shit again, if he didn’t want to live out his days as a Eunuch.

Diesel promised he’d behave and do better.

Try harder to keep his cock to himself. To make up, he offered to get the letter to D.

Elliot. He’d succeeded, so all was forgiven and would be forgotten.

Throwing a morsel out was the best way to discover information.

Usually, motherfuckers took one fucking crumb and ran off at the fucking mouth.

“Your woman was a good person.” The words tasted bitter.

That cunt had been treacherous. “She don’t seem the type to run away from her kid, especially for rich dick. ”

D. Elliot stumbled to the seat and dropped into it.

He set the letter in front of him. Resting his elbows on the table, he cradled his head between his hands.

“Edna was so smart, but she was…she was ruthless and vindictive. Sometimes, I wondered if she was right in the head. She dreamed of living in a mansion, wearing designer clothes, fucking on bricks of hundred-dollar bills.” Another sob escaped him.

“I loved her. She wore me the fuck out though, Outlaw. Within a few months of us moving in together, I started cheating. I should’ve just left.

Edna always told me I’d never get another high-quality woman like her.

When we divorced, a part of me was relieved.

Then, she took that job in California. Took my boy.

I missed them. Now, she’s gone,” he whispered in a strangled voice.

“She removed all our wedding photos. All the photos of Dex through the years. She wiped her cloud storage, so I can’ t access them. ”

Stretch wiped them. If he hadn’t performed the forensic clean up yet, Christopher would tell him to get whatever pictures were available beforehand.

D. Elliot grabbed a napkin rolled around utensils and opened it. After setting the knife, fork, and spoon aside, he used the napkin to dab his wet cheeks.

“I should be happy she left and doesn’t plan to come back.

Before she made me think you and her fucked, she’d been with Diesel.

Before that, she’d been with another motherfucker.

Diesel got to me the most because we’d reached an agreement, Edna and me.

She swore she’d gotten her revenge out of her system and I promised I’d never cheat again.

Seeing all those hickeys Diesel put on her neck crushed me. ”

Annoyance rose in Christopher. “Diesel was wrong to stick his cock in your woman. Not only cuz he got a fuckin’ wife, but you and him know each other.”

“He didn’t take what she wasn’t willing to give,” D. Elliot said sadly.

“You got my permission to hit my boy once for what he did.”

“I’m not fucking with Diesel, Outlaw. Call me a bitch if you want to, but I’m scared of him. He’s fucking insane.”

Diesel was as cold as they came. Somewhere along the way, he’d taken to torture and gruesome kills.

Life held little value to Diesel, his own especially.

When a motherfucker didn’t care if he lived or died, he didn’t fucking care if another motherfucker lived or died.

Christopher understood. He’d been there once, although he’d never had the fucking patience for drawn out death.

An assfuck who fucked up received swift retribution. Dead was fucking dead.

Torie was one of those rare exceptions. That bitch had more games than a fucking Vegas casino.

Besides, she’d tortured Megan. Still, he didn’t trust her not to offer a final fuck you and have a mic or a camera somewhere on her.

Instead of shooting the fuck out of her as he’d originally planned, he wanted to look in her fucking eyes so she could see how much he fucking hated her.

“Once I got the truth out of Torie,” D. Elliot continued, “she told me he made her feel better than I ever could. She said not even you could compare because you can’t keep a hard-on.”

Christopher roared with laughter. If Torie felt better talking about his cock, that was her fucking business. He only wished Megan was here. Hopefully, all her suspicions were finally put to rest, but D. Elliot’s words confirmed Torie had never had Christopher’s cock anywhere near her.

The door opened and Diesel strolled in. He was due in court at one, so Christopher planned his meeting with D.

Elliot around that timeframe. Coming in specifically to check on the motherfucker as Diesel suggested would’ve looked too fucking suspicious.

A private lunch with Diesel and checking on D. Elliot as an afterthought was better.

“Excuse me,” Diesel said, pretending surprise at seeing D. Elliot. He headed to the waiter, hand outstretched. “So sorry to hear about your house, man. Any news about…about…Torie?”

D. Elliot got to his feet. “She’s gone.”

Diesel’s eyes widened in surprise. “Jesus! When did you get this news?”

He nodded to the letter on the table. “I mean she left,” he mumbled, unable to meet Diesel’s gaze. “She doesn’t want me or our boy.”

Lighting a smoke, Christopher dragged on it, then took it between his fingers and stood, walking to his son and the waiter.

“Punch my boy, D.,” he instructed. He pointed to a spot on Diesel’s cheek, ignoring their shock.

“Once, and not hard enough to break anything.” He puffed on his smoke again. “Only fuckin’ chance you gettin’.”

D. Elliot met Diesel’s cold gaze, swallowed, and shook his head.

Sighing, Christopher jammed his smoke in the corner of his mouth and slammed his fist against Diesel’s jaw. He didn’t hear a crack, so he hadn’t broken anything.

Diesel reeled back; D. Elliot gaped.

“Listen up, motherfucker. You ever fuck a bitch whose husband we know, I’m gonna step the fuck out the way if he want to cut your fuckin’ cock off.”

Torie had been Megan’s enemy in a different way than the club girls. That was regular bitch shit. This had been marriage ending fucked up shit.

Christopher glared at D. Elliot. “You scared of Diesel? Ain’t takin’ that the fuck away from you, but when my ass give you a fuckin’ order, you follow what the fuck I say.”

He punched that motherfucker, then watched him grab his jaw, and stumble back. “Lunch canceled, Diesel.”

He hadn’t planned on the announcement in such a way, but oh-fucking-well.

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