Chapter Thirty-Three
Knocking once on Kendall’s office door, Christopher swung it open, surprised to find her at her desk with her eyes closed and squeezing the bridge of her red nose.
Alarm raced through him. “Kendall?”
She opened her eyes, glanced behind him, then met his gaze. “Where’s Meggie?” she asked hoarsely. “She decided to stay home with CJ?”
“Something else came up,” Christopher said with distaste.
She said she needed to meet with Mort, but he’d also overheard her on the phone with Easton DeLuca.
After breakfast, she’d gone to her office to look at an account.
She was taking so fucking long, Christopher went to see if she was okay.
Today was the first morning she’d awakened and fucked him before she went to check on their boy.
Usually, she went to CJ’s room. Sometimes, Christopher had to search for her and remind her he needed attention too.
Now, this. Sneaking to see motherfucking Easton Love.
She still hadn’t revoked his license to kill.
As soon as he left Kendall’s office, he intended to scoop up Johnnie and Easton.
He’d chop one of Johnnie’s hands off. But Easton?
He intended to cut his cock off and watch him bleed to death.
Hopefully, that little pain-in-the-ass motherfucker was wherever when Christopher found Easton, so she’d know if she wanted to take responsibility for a motherfucker’s fucking up, that was on her.
As hell goddess, Christopher wasn’t sure how deep she wanted to twist the fucking knife.
His hell goddess was big on vengeance and atonement.
He’d gotten a hard cock around Torie once and it hadn’t been for her particularly.
The idea that Megan would willingly open her pussy to another motherfucker…
It should’ve devastated him. But, nope. He was so fucking jealous, he could barely see straight.
He was so fucking furious, he could barely think straight.
Whatever name the motherfucker went by, he was thirteen years younger than Christopher and only two years older than Megan.
He would kill that motherfucker extra painfully for making Christopher so insecure about how much older he was than Megan.
Motherfucking fuckhead assfuck dick swinger.
Kendall snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Christopher?”
“Megan fuckin’ another motherfucker,” he snarled.
She blinked, then howled with laughter, adding insult to injury by stomping her fucking foot. He glowered at her.
“Oh my God, I needed that,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes, turning and sailing to her desk.
Stalking into the office, he slammed the door behind him. “Fuck you, Kendall. Laughin’ at my motherfuckin’ outrage.”
“Waa-waa-waa, motherfucker,” she clapped back. Hands on hips, she looked him up and down. “Meggie would never cheat on you. You’re just a guilty fuckhead, so whatever evidence you think you have is in your small little mind to justify your actions with that bitch.”
Even dead, he couldn’t escape that bitch. Fuck, but he wished he could resurrect her and fuck her up again. It was because of how he’d acted that Megan needed to get revenge. Howfuckinever …
“I already fuckin’ told you, Megan, Rebel, Roxanne, Zoann—” who wanted to fuck him up— “Fee, Georgie, Doc Will, Bunny, fuck, the goddamn extraterrestrials in outer fuckin’ space, and every other motherfucker I didn’t—”
“Cheat,” Kendall spat, plopping onto her chair and folding her arms. “Neither is she. She would never betray you. You’ve lost your fucking mind.”
“I have not!” he yelled, explaining about the phone call.
Kendall shrugged. “Does she fucking tell you about every meeting she has?”
“That’s not the fuckin’ point. She flat-out fuckin’ lied to me!
Clamin’ she was meetin’ Mort. Not only did I overhear Megan whisperin’ to another motherfucker, she said she couldn’t come with me to the meetin’ between you and me, and I called Mort and he said he hadn’t talked to Megan since yesterday. ”
“Have you tracked her?”
“She ain’t in neither of her cars. She ain’t got her phone and it don’t seem like she got her purse. After I leave here, I’m going to the motherfucker last known address. If they ain’t there, then I’m going to some of her favorite places.”
A thoughtful expression crossed Kendall’s face, but she remained silent.
“If Megan fuckin’ that motherfucker…” He balled his fists and fury settled into his gut like boiling acid. He scrubbed a hand over his face and blew out a breath to calm himself. “Just the fuckin’ idea.”
“Okay, Satan, we know you’ll kill him and make her suffer. All you assholes are alike. Have bitches waiting in the wings, fluttering around you, or whatever . But you can’t handle the opposite.”
“I ain’t fuckin’ Satan.”
“I beg to differ. Would you like to see the evilness flaming in your fucking eyes?”
“Fuck off,” he snapped. “I ain’t come for this anyway. This our weekly meetin’. So let’s make it quick, so I can go find my fuckin’ wife, shake her, fuck her, then fuck up the motherfucker she with.”
Suspicion entered Kendall’s eyes. “Don’t hurt her. Even if she is having an affair, she’s been through so much—”
“I love Megan. If she open her pussy to a thousand motherfuckers, I just gotta kill a thousand motherfuckers then put her on a deserted island ‘til she get some fuckin’ sense.”
“You’re so fucking insane.”
“What the fuck you found?”
The question returned the conversation to the reason for the meeting. Fine with Christopher. The sooner it finished, the sooner he could leave.
Kendall’s sadness returned and a small smile danced across her mouth. She stood and grabbed a folder. “Let’s go to the conference room. I ordered lunch for us because I thought Meggie was coming.”
Images of a very different type of coming rose in his head and he stiffened, livid all over again. When he got his hands on her, he’d shake her, then lock her away until she really forgave him and loved him again .
“I’m not hungry,” he grouched. “I ain’t got time for fuckin’ food. We ain’t met in two fuckin’ weeks. Otherwise, I would’ve called and canceled and found my fuckin’ wife.”
She stalked to his side. “Do you honestly think Meggie’s cheating?”
“Yes. No. Fuck, I ain’t sure.” He kicked the chair. “I don’t know what the fuck she’s gonna do anymore.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to eat?”
“What’s the matter?” he asked, not in the nicest of tones, but fuck, he wasn’t in the nicest mood. “Why your face so fucking long?”
“Did you ever find Hopper and Randolph?”
He’d stopped looking for Megan’s brother or nephew and his ma years ago. Hopper saved Megan and her wedding set.
“Did you?”
“Nope. Why?”
“When she left all those many years ago, she was pregnant.”
“I heard. Definitely Snake’s baby.”
“I found letters hinting that it might be someone else’s child.”
Christopher heard that, too. It was how Mortician saved Hopper from Logan by claiming she carried Johnnie’s child.
Whatever the case, Hopper had come from a strict home with a fuckhead for a father. She’d ended up in a dead-end life because she preferred anything over living with her daddy.
Christopher didn’t know if Hopper or Randolph was dead or alive. He’d searched for her to reward her for helping Megan escape, although he still intended to beat the fuck out of Randolph. He was the motherfucker who’d put the idea to kidnap Megan in Mystic’s head.
Swallowing, Kendall handed him the folder. Opening it revealed a photo of a girl about twelve or thirteen with gray eyes and blonde hair. He staggered back and fell against the desk.
“I don’t know her name, but she’d be about twenty-two or twenty-three now. She looks just like him, doesn’t she?”
Speechless, Christopher dragged his gaze away from the photo and studied Kendall. The pain in her eyes made him close the folder and set it aside.
“I read some of those horrific letters from that passel of psychos while I was waiting for you and Meggie.” She shuddered and dug in her pocket, coming up with a sticky note.
“Rory thought it was a long-lost cousin. See?” She waved the yellow square in front of Christopher’s face.
“He doesn’t read the letters. He just sorts everything. ”
“Kendall, Johnnie more than a little fucked up and death wishy—” A much simpler assessment than required.
Motherfucking Johnnie was on par with Diesel.
“But,” he said, shoving thoughts of his son aside, “Johnnie love you and his kids. Even if this girl alive and is his that don’t take anything away from you. ”
Her lips trembled and her nose reddened, but she nodded. His phone beeped. He yanked it from the top pocket of his cut. It was an alert from one of his tracking apps. When he looked, he saw Johnnie heading toward the Donovan farm ?
He straightened. “What the fuck?”
Kendall leaned over and peeped at his screen. “What’s the matter?”
Turning his back to her, he decided to check in on all the motherfuckers he was tracking. All of Megan’s were still stationary. Howfuckinever …
Mortician was on the move in the same direction as Johnnie.
What the motherfuck?
In his gut, he knew it had to do with Megan. Johnnie guiding Easton DeLuca into the club house rose in Christopher’s head. It must also have to do with DeLuca.
Anger, jealousy, and betrayal converged, and he growled, then shoved his phone back in his pocket. “You found any fuckin’ evidence my Megan in danger?”
“No.”
“Bash ain’t pulled his claim that Megan own the club and the grounds out his ass. He got that shit from some fuckin’ where. What about evidence that Cee Cee has a stake in the club, and by extension, Bash?”
“Nothing.”
“Bash might be a stupid motherfucker who pretend he fuckin’ scared of me, but he ain’t fronted the Scorpions for so many fuckin’ years without a fuckin’ brain. I feel like we vulnerable to that motherfucker.”
“Does that mean you’re declaring war?”
He thought of Megan again. Maybe, in another man’s arms. She’d never lied so blatantly to him and with a straight fucking face. Usually, she fidgeted. Stuttered . Couldn’t meet his eye.
So distracted with thoughts of her would get him killed. Besides, what the fuck was he alone supposed to do? Mort, Stretch, Val, and Digger would stand with him. But Mr. Bomb Expert Ghost? Mr. Blood Frenzy John Boy? He wouldn’t have them.
Cash supplied explosives and helped Stretch with monitoring the area and police scanners and interfering with camera signals. Val drove the van. Mort and Digger waited in the wings for cleanup and Johnnie served as Christopher’s backup.
Did he fuckup motherfuckers on his own? Scoop them up? Fuck, yeah. He’d once been the fucking enforcer. But when he was dealing with an entire fucking club? It was a club wide effort. Members fucked up any motherfuckers they ran across. Christopher and his boys took care of the rest.
Even if he put the club on lockdown, he risked a mutiny because motherfucking Johnnie and Cash would complain the fucking loudest.
Peaceful assfucks ended up as dead fuckheads.
Christopher shook his head, aware Kendall awaited his answer.
“Only if I get a majority of brothers to vote for war,” he said.
“Ain’t gettin’ my fuckin’ ass shot off for a divided fuckin’ club.
Not even that, Kendall. Somehow, Johnnie and Cash get more motherfuckers to vote for peace negotiations than I get for fuckin’ annihilation.
They grown motherfuckers. But if my woman at risk?
I’ll fight to the fuckin’ death. I’ll lay down my fuckin’ life—” Even as furious and devastated as he was.
He heaved in a breath, his anger rising again.
“What about Ma? Any more information about her? I keep goin’ back and forth.
A part of me hate that I doubt her, cuz I know what she went through for me.
I know she was a sweet, gentle woman. But then she was married to the man she swore violated her, forced his name on me, and then disappeared. ”
Kendall smiled. “Rest easy,” she said softly. “I don’t see much else about her. She probably couldn’t find the words to tell you how that marriage came about. If I had to guess, her father forced her hand and she complied to protect you.”
Christopher nodded, releasing the breath he’d been holding. Something inside of him unclenched. Without another word, he left.
Destination: his grandfather’s property to find his wayward wife.