Chapter Twenty-Four
Expecting to sit and shoot the shit with his brother while processing the fact that Harley was out of fucking control and his marriage might be over, Mortician never expected to face a life-or-death situation when he walked into the club.
CJ collapsed in his arms, then immediately began convulsing.
“Fuck!” Mort cried, panic coursing through him as chaos erupted around him. Narci, Potter, Digger, and Diesel were shouting and the club girls were screaming.
Gripping CJ, Mortician sank to his knees and held him tightly. He didn’t want him to hit his head or further injure himself.
“God, no!” Diesel said. “No, no, no.”
“Little bro,” Digger called, suddenly next to Mort and shaking CJ .
“Get some fucking Naloxone,” Mort ordered, trying to hold his shit together but on the verge of losing it as the life drained from CJ.
Digger shook CJ again. “Kid, it’s me!” he cried. “Ashfuck Dig! Wake up!”
CJ stopped moving and went limp.
“Go get Prez and Meggie, Digger,” Mort said, his voice trembling.
At the words, the world seemed to stop. All the male voices and female screeches quieted. No one moved or spoke. Fuck, he doubted anyone drew a breath.
“ Now !” Mort roared. “Potter, call 911.”
“911?” one of the girls said as Narci rushed away. “No!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Mortician said, laying CJ on the floor to start administering CPR.
Diesel released a sob. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” he chanted.
“Go, Digger,” Mort said.
Digger staggered to his feet, tears streaking his cheeks. Tipping his head to shoulder away his tears, he hurried out of the clubhouse.
“Diesel, pull yourself together. I might need your help.”
Mort alternated between chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. But it wasn’t working. CJ was turning gray.
“No, fuck,” Mort said on a sob. “Come on, CJ. Come on.”
He repeated the steps. As devastated as he and Prez would be, everybody , CJ’s death would destroy Meggie.
No matter what anybody else thought about her, Mort knew she was a good woman who loved her kids and adored her man.
She’d devoted her adult life to her family and to the club.
Despite everything, she always fought her way through. She survived and thrived.
Except this. Anything except this. Losing CJ would break her.
A gasp caught in CJ’s throat, before he went still again.
“CJ, kid, please ,” Mort said around tears.
Fuck, his death would break all of them.
Narci ran back into the room.
“Inject him in his thigh.”
Narci followed Mortician’s orders and he performed more chest compressions. “You fine, little dude. You fine,” he repeated as much for the kid as it was for himself.
Spooning Megan always soothed Christopher’s soul, whether it happened before or after fucking. Or no fucking was involved. It told him everything was right between them and reminded him what a lucky motherfucker he was to call her his.
The lights flickered on again.
He kissed her shoulder. “Goodnight, baby. I love you.”
“Goodnight, my love. And I love you more.”
“Ain’t fuckin’ possible.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I will love you until the end of time. In this life and however many more I have after.”
He nosed her hair, drugged by her scent, wanting to spend the night kissing her and fucking her. He was just about to ask for more pussy when the bedroom door flew open .
Scowling, he sat up, ready to blast whichever little motherfucker walked in without knocking. Except Gunner, since he was too young to really remember to knock. Axel didn’t give a fuck. He ignored the rules and argued why he shouldn’t be in trouble before threatening to lawyer up.
Seeing Digger shocked the fuck out of Christopher. “What the fuck—?”
“Prez,” Digger interrupted, huffing and puffing as if he’d run a mile. He also sounded as if he were fucking crying.
Goddamn, it could only be Mort. Fuck, he should’ve checked on him after tonight’s upheaval. The way Bailey fucked with him must not have been easy.
Christopher scooted out of bed, heading to where his jeans were on the sofa. Even if CJ had made it home, Digger had keys to the house and codes for the alarms. Not only because of Bunny but because he was a member of the family.
Once Christopher covered his cock, he grabbed his phone and shoved it in his back pocket.
Megan leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp, covering her tits with the comforter and top sheet.
“What’s happened to Mortician?” she asked, reaching the same conclusion as Christopher.
Only a handful of motherfuckers would put Digger in this state.
“It’s not Mort,” Digger said, sniffling.
Megan gasped. “Omigod, is it Bunny or one of the kids?” Tugging the comforter with her, she made it out of bed. “What happened? Are they at the hospital—?”
“It’s not Bunny or my kids, Meggie,” Digger said, and something in his tone gave Christopher pause.
Horror washed over Megan’s face. “Is it Harley?” She turned and reached for her phone .
Digger met Christopher’s gaze. The regret and sorrow in the depths of Digger’s eyes hit Christopher in the center of his chest. It was CJ. That truth was written all over Digger’s face.
Christopher shook his head. “No.”
“It isn’t Harley?” Megan asked, mistaking the meaning of his no. Her gaze traveled from Digger to Christopher and back again. She swallowed. “Is it Roxanne?” she whispered, her eyes already filling with tears and her lips trembling.
She knew, too. Christopher saw it on her face,
“Meggie—” Digger sniffled, and raised his hands.
She shook her head, much like Christopher had. “Where’s my potato?” she demanded.
Digger bowed his head. “At the club.”
“I have a medical kit,” she said. “What do I need to bring? How bad are his injuries?”
“He OD’d.” A sob escaped Digger. “He wasn’t breathing when I left.”
If Megan hadn’t collapsed in a screaming fit, Christopher might have. Instead, he ran to her and pulled her into his arms, trying and failing to soothe her.
Her screams drew Rebel, Rule, and the Triplets. Christopher couldn’t see to the kids because Megan was hysterical. He finally sat her on the bed and crouched in front of her because they needed to dress and get to the club.
“Megan—”
“My baby,” she cried, falling into Christopher’s arms and sobbing.
“Jo?” Rebel asked.
“I know you upset, Meggie, but you need to pull yourself together, so Prez can get to the fucking club,” Digger said through his own tears. “Nobody forced CJ to use whatever .” His voice cracked. “The kid did it to himself.”
“ WHAT? ” Rebel screeched .
“What’s wrong with CJ?” Axel cried, panicked.
“CJ?” Ransom echoed.
Megan, however, stiffened, shoved Christopher aside and jumped to her feet.
She stalked to Digger and thumped his chest. “CJ doesn’t use hard drugs,” she snarled.
“If he took it, there’s another reason for it.
And if you ever blame my son again, not only will I see you barred from the club, I’ll make sure you never see Mortician for the rest of your miserable life.
” She turned to the kids, missing the horror on Digger’s face.
“Reb, get Gunner. Boys, get clothes on. Be ready in five minutes.”
She threw out orders, tears streaking her face, her voice and body trembling. Christopher wondered if she knew what the fuck she was saying.
Rebel started to sob, while the boys silently cried. Digger continued standing there, still shell-shocked by Megan’s threat.
She continued talking, but the rest of her words barely penetrated Christopher’s brain. His checks were wet. If he lost his boy…
No! Fuck no!
He swiped at his tears, but not before the kids saw how upset he was. The horror on Rebel’s face. The way she stared at him, silently begging that he fix this. Yet, Megan was still moving, talking, sobbing .
“Megan,” he said hoarsely.
She halted and stared at him, her eyes so filled with pain it almost killed him. “My potato, Christopher.”
He hurried to her and drew her into his arms, allowing her to cling to him and sob, her pain drawn from the depths of her soul.
“You and our babies are my life,” she wept. “I don’t care about anything else as long as you, CJ, Rebel, Rule, Diesel, Axel, Ranson, Gunner, Ryder, and Jo are safe. ”
Whoever supplied the drugs to CJ was dead. Taking his boy from him was a death sentence in and of itself, but to devastate his Megan…
To watch her stumble out of his embrace and make it to their kids and draw them to her…
Because despite her pain, she was always his wife and their ma. She pulled herself together for him, them .
Christopher went to his family, to Megan, and wrapped his arms around them, drawing them close.
“We have to get to the hospital,” he reminded them.
Megan nodded as the boys pulled away.
“C’mon, Ax,” Ransom said, sniffling. “We need to dress.”
“Okay,” Axel said, barely understandable, his little face flushed and his nose snotty.
Rebel remained close, partially in Christopher’s embraced but entirely encompassed by her ma’s arms. “I’ll dress Gunner, Momma.”
Axel ran to Rebel and threw his arms around her waist. “Can you help me too, Reb? Please?”
Trying and failing to contain her tears, Rebel returned Axel’s hug and kissed the top of his head. “Let’s hurry. Okay?”
Rubbing his hand across his nose, Axel nodded. “Okay.”
The kids trooped out, leaving only Christopher, Digger, and Megan. She didn’t move. Whereas she’d been manic a few minutes ago, now she was still.
Christopher took her face between his hands and thumbed away her tears. “We have to go, baby,” he whispered.
She blinked. Nodded. Didn’t move. Only cried.
“Megan, baby,” he crooned.
“I can face almost anything but this, Christopher,” she whispered .
He clenched his jaw, keeping his shit together by a fucking thread.
His ringing phone interrupted any words he might have said. If he knew what the fuck to say.
Yanking his phone out of his back pocket, he saw Mort’s number and answered immediately.
“Diesel rushing CJ to the hospital in the van, Prez.” Mort sounded devastated.