Chapter Twenty-Seven #3
“What, baby?”
“All I know is Joplin gave CJ the drugs after Gail and Diana needled him, and Diesel, Narci, Potter, Digger, and Mortician saved him. It’s your club and I can’t interfere, but I ask you to show the ones who helped CJ some mercy.
I ask that you remember Rule wants to be a priest and has a lot of good in him. Stretch sent out the SOS.”
“Stretch been wipin’ fuckin’ footage. Last two or three times, he forgot to erase it from the main server so I fuckin’ saw what happened—”
After Torie’s death, although a good twenty minutes was interrupted. After Megan arrived to cook. And from the moment CJ and Diesel walked in, to the minute Diesel ran out with CJ limp in his arms.
“It’s whatever, Christopher,” Megan said tiredly. “I just wanted to let you know that CJ still isn’t awake.”
Another sob escaped her, then she disconnected.
Instead of calling her back, Christopher yanked the knife out of Diesel’s hand and shoved him away. He fell to his knees, holding his hand, now dripping with blood.
“Mort, see to the motherfucker hand. He need to get to the meatshack and kill those two cunts.”
“Uncle Christopher—”
“Shut the fuck up. Don’t think I ain’t knowin’ when you fuckin’ found Torie, you ain’t told me that cunt was back cuz you was fuckin’ her. You still stickin’ your cock in the club bitches, despite your fuckin’ wife? Despite those cunts hatin’ on Megan? Fuck you. Kill those cunts or fuckin’ else.”
Diesel nodded.
Christopher picked up the switch and pulled the trigger, the nonstop firing tearing apart Dementor, Nitro, Bedhead, Alchemy, Turbo, Pixels, Tyre, Jar, Ham, and Eraser, all motherfuckers who’d fucked over Megan or CJ, either by word or deed.
“Church over,” he declared and stormed the fuck away.
Leaning forward and resting her head near CJ’s shoulder, Meggie wondered when her son would open his eyes. She hadn’t slept and she hadn’t eaten in the hours since he’d been brought up to ICU in the room reserved for her. Just down the hall from Jo.
She couldn’t describe how she felt in one of the most horrific moments in her life. It was as if she was trapped under water and would never resurface.
Through the window, she saw that it was dark. The rain stopped hours ago, and a crisp winter night sky stole away the dusk. But the world was muted. Her life was a dull gray. Only her son laid in vivid color.
Sun kissed skin, though not as tanned as Christopher’s dark hair. Long eyelashes. A face as beautiful as his father’s.
An hour after her phone call, Christopher came and checked on CJ. He’d also tried to coax Meggie to eat.
She didn’t care about food.
The last time Meggie left CJ’s side to check on her other children, Rebel wanted to go with Christopher to the meatshack and watch whoever was there die.
Meggie didn’t care about that either. If Rebel wanted to kill, it didn’t matter. Meggie only wanted CJ to open his eyes.
Hate was an emotion she steered clear of as much as possible.
Only a select few made her list. Of course, Logan Donovan topped it, followed by her stepfather, Thomas Nicholls.
Until now, perhaps, they had been in an exclusive club.
She didn’t know. She didn’t know if she hated her brother, her father-in-law, and Rack, or if she just hated their behavior. As with her father.
But those women who hurt her son? Nyx, their ringleader? She despised them. They’d targeted him because of her . No one had to show her footage or recount the evening. She knew because she knew them.
Somewhere, during the club’s years of peace, she’d taken for granted that no matter what, Christopher would return to her. He was Outlaw . Formidable. Indomitable. But her potato was just entering this life. He didn’t know that women could be as ruthless and remorseless as any of the bikers.
This was the final straw for Meggie. After weeks of the awful behavior and protecting the troublemakers and rumormongers for the good of the club, Meggie no longer cared if they saw her as whore or saint. They’d feel her wrath as CJ’s mother.
A hand slid through her hair.
Meggie froze.
“Mom?” CJ croaked.
Raising her head, Meggie released a sob at seeing CJ’s gaze trained on her. She jumped to her feet, leaned over and hugged him. “Oh, CJ. Thank God. I was so scared.”
CJ didn’t answer and Meggie raised her head. He was staring at her.
“I…” He swallowed. “Did Uncle Mort tell you and Dad I loved you?”
“Why would—”
“I thought I was dying,” he said softly. He sounded so devastated.
Meggie hugged him tighter.
“I thought…I don’t know what was in that drink, but I thought it diluted with Sprite.”
“Don’t worry, son. I’ll see that they never hurt anyone again.”
“It’s okay, Mom. They were kind of like hazing me.”
Meggie wouldn’t argue the point. “Let me call your daddy and the nurse, then get Rebel and the boys in here.”
“Okay.” Silence, and then: “Mom?”
“Yes, son?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken the lean. It wasn’t their fault.”
“You deciding to take it wasn’t their fault,” she agreed. “Them trying to poison you with rubbing alcohol, cocaine, near lethal amounts of codeine mixed with vodka and promethazine, was.”
“They tried to kill me?”
Definitely. “Your daddy’s still investigating. Now, let’s get you checked out.”
Kissing CJ’s forehead, she grabbed the remote and pressed the call button for the nurse.