Chapter Twelve #2
“What your ma said, Rebel?” Outlaw asked impatiently, seemingly unaware Reb probably would’ve ripped Diesel from limb to limb.
“She didn’t tell me anything, Father! I saw .
Momma’s used to these three little assholes.
” She jerked her fingers from Axel to Ransom to Ryder.
“She’s used to fuckery and nonsense from us .
” She stomped her foot. “There’s no reason why she would fall apart because of those birth control advocates. ”
“Fucking Reb,” Val said, snickering.
“Reb, can I talk to you?” Bishop called faintly.
Outlaw raised his hand. “No, the fuck you can’t. Not until Reb tell me, show me , what the fuck she talkin’ about. ”
“Maybe, maybe, you should check on Meggie, Prez,” Digger managed.
Rebel growled and started forward. Digger ran behind Mortician while Prez seized Rebel around her waist.
Reaching behind him, Mortician grabbed a handful of Digger’s hair and yanked him, then shoved him away.
“You’re next, Uncle Digger,” Rebel vowed, struggling in her daddy’s arms. “I’ve ordered a fucking flamethrower. Run, motherfucker. Run. Because when it comes, I’m incinerating you, Nyx—”
“What the fuck’s goin’ on?” Outlaw demanded before she finished her list of fuckheads who needed retribution.
Since Digger was involved, Mort opted for beatings.
“Tell me now ,” Outlaw continued, holding his daughter tightly. “I checked the fuckin’ video and ain’t found fuck all.”
“Christopher!” Meggie called, her bare feet slapping against the marble floor.
“Fuck, thank God,” Digger mumbled.
The relief on Narci’s, Bishop’s, and Torrin’s faces was a hypocritical travesty. They relied on the woman to save their miserable lives but saw no problem inflaming the girls and disrespecting her.
They all waited in silence as she hurried from the staircase down the darkened central hallway in a blur of motion. She halted on the other side of the archway, standing in the shadows.
Mort was just able to make out her blonde hair and golden skin. A lot of it.
“Do not look at Rebel’s phone. Not yet. Not unless Nyx gets out of line again.” Meggie huffed. “I told you to leave it alone, Rebel.”
“Why are you in the shadows, Megan?” Johnnie asked, not quite recovered from Rebel’s all- encompassing fury but still able to get his full asshole on. “You must’ve been crying more than Rebel let on and your face and eyes are all puffy.”
Releasing Rebel, Outlaw turned and looked at Johnnie.
“Here, Daddy,” Rebel said, drawing Prez’s attention back to her.
He reached for the phone. Digger swayed. Bishop gulped. Narci and Torrin clutched each other.
“Oh my god!” Meggie gritted, hurrying forward.
Mort saw the exact moment her barely clothed body registered with everyone.
She wore a black silk and lace nightie. The spaghetti straps revealed her chest and the short length revealed her thighs and legs.
She must’ve recently gotten out of a shower because her hair was still damp.
Her skin wasn’t puffy. As a matter of fact, she still looked so fucking young it was hard to believe Mort had known her almost eighteen years.
“Jesus Christ,” Johnnie breathed.
Narci stared at her, watched her hair and tits bounce as Prez lifted Rebel’s phone above his head and Meggie tried to snatch it.
Johnnie was transfixed.
“Mom, what are you doing?” CJ demanded. “You don’t have clothes on!”
Prez halted and really looked at Meggie. He glowered at her. “Get the fuck back upstairs.”
“Not until you give me that phone,” Meggie snapped.
“All these motherfuckers gettin’ cock rises lookin’ at you!”
Everyone denied the accusation. Mort wasn’t sure about their honesty—especially Johnnie’s and Narci’s—but he was telling the truth. He saw Meggie as a little sister. In the early days, he’d had twinges of cock stirrings but that minuscule attraction for her and Kendall long ago disappeared.
“You got that nightie for your ma on purpose, Rebel,” Outlaw accused, pointing at his daughter.
Rebel smirked. “Nope. Sure didn’t. I picked the first thing I saw so she could remove her towel. I waited until she went back into the bathroom before I came down. I was expecting her to braid her hair after she combed it out.”
“I came out to ask you if you had a short robe,” Meggie confessed. “I think the activation of the sprinklers shut off the HVAC system and I was cold. The heat isn’t coming on.”
Prez, Johnnie, and Narci dropped their gazes to Meggie’s chest. Judging by Prez’s annoyance, her tits revealed exactly how cold she was. Out of respect for Bailey, Meggie and Outlaw, Mort refused to look.
Thinking about Bailey, she would never run behind Harley, barely dressed, to save a club girl—or anyone —without taking the time to find a robe.
Mort scrubbed a hand over his face. Was he really doing this? Was he admiring Prez, Meggie, and their children? Was he a little wistful that his family was in tatters when he’d always thought they shared a similarly tight bond as Prez’s family?
Bailey was floundering. Harley was floundering. Digger was floundering…nope, that motherfucker was stupid. But the end still resulted in severed connections and misery.
He glanced at his watch. Fuck, he was almost an hour late. He needed to either contact Bailey and ask her to bear with him or cancel altogether. It concerned him that if he did either, they’d get into another argument, so he’d give it a few more minutes and then make a decision.
Meggie wrapped her arms around her chest. Prez took off his cut and handed it to her.
She held it with reverence and respect as he removed his shirt and exchanged it for his cut, which he put on over his bare chest. Then, he snatched the shirt from her and stood in front of her.
When he moved away, she was wearing the T-shirt.
It was so ridiculously big that the Triplets guffawed. CJ, Diesel, and Rebel joined in.
Meggie and Outlaw looked at each other and burst into laughter. He took her in his arms and hugged her, then dragged Rebel into his embrace, too.
He handed Rebel the phone.
“The video isn’t pretty, Christopher,” Meggie said, embracing him and laying her head against him.
Digger, Narci, Torrin, and Bishop stiffened again.
“But don’t watch it right now. It’s over. The brothers deserve to have girls they like.”
“I ain’t lookin’ this time,” Outlaw swore.
Meggie kissed his chest, pulled away, and turned to Rebel. “Come on, love. Your daddy will handle everything.”
A vicious smile kicked up the corners of Rebel’s mouth. “I’m not canceling my flamethrower.”
“You can’t burn people to death,” Meggie said in exasperation.
Rebel smirked from offender to offender. “Traitors aren’t people. They’re enemies, and enemies need to be dealt with.”
“Reb—”
Diesel scowled and interrupted Meggie. “Rebel, as your big brother and a man who had a vicious mother—”
“Motherfucker, I will punch you in your goddamn mouth,” Rebel inserted coldly.
“ You’re one of the reasons that bitch thinks she owns every man in the club.
Now, fuck with me after she’s fucked with our mother.
Not that bitch who doesn’t deserve your fucking consideration but the woman who has loved you and looked after you.
I fucking dare you. I will fucking stomp you. ”
For once, he believed her. He raised his hands and shut the fuck up.
“Outlaw?” Val asked after Rebel took Meggie’s hand and dragged her away.
“What, Val?”
“Maybe you might reconsider Rebel’s involvement in the club. She’s more brutal than any of the boys.”
Outlaw nodded. “I was thinkin’ the same fuckin’ thing.”
“We already gave her a name,” Axel said proudly.
The Blonde Viper. That was so fucking fitting.