Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Yours fit?”
Walking out of a dressing room in Edie Bradford’s boutique, Christopher halted in front of one of the mirrors hanging between the stalls. Diesel and CJ stood in front of the other two.
They were all dressed in the same gray handyman jumpsuits that Val and the others wore to Ridge Moore.
“Rebel will know it’s us immediately, Dad,” CJ complained.
Edie stepped next to Christopher and smiled. “I suppose that’s why he wants the same beard and billed hat getup that Val ordered for everyone.”
Christopher nodded and turned, glancing over his shoulder to see how the jumpsuit fit in the back. Megan always said she could pick out his ass even if she couldn’t see the rest of him. According to her, not even a blindfold would stop her. One feel of his ass cheeks, and she’d know it was him.
He couldn’t allow Megan to catch him spying on Rebel’s date. If CJ hadn’t shown him Rebel’s fucking profile on a motherfucking dating app, Christopher would’ve told him Kaia had to find some fucking way to convince Rebel to wait an extra day or two.
Since his daughter was in such a fucking hurry to grow the fuck up, Christopher had to fuck with Megan again . No wonder lil’ motherfuckers broke up marriages. His children were driving him up a fucking wall.
Three little reform school motherfuckers that convinced Diesel to plead their fucking case. They were still punished, but Diesel’s defense got them out of ass beatings for fucking with the sprinklers.
A psycho-schizo-hearing voices-wannabe priest who Christopher intended to fucking kill if he fucked with Megan or Rebel again, and then make it look like an accident or him a runaway.
Something told Christopher Rule was fucking dangerous.
As mad as Megan was at him, he didn’t want to push her and have his kid locked away.
Over the summer, though, Christopher had to convince Megan, Rule needed treatment in a mental facility.
They’d agreed to that timeline. Christopher intended to put his foot down and make her stick to it.
Then there was a pussy crazed mopey motherfucker on Christopher’s you-will-soon-be-fucked up list—along with Johnnie and Easton.
Christopher and Megan had a girl still in the hospital. A son, the best one of them all, suffering from PTSD; and a little kid whose voice was heavier than fucking Rule’s.
Put it all together and it was fucking up his goddamn marriage. Megan wanted Rebel to go on the fucking date and she didn’t want Christopher to interfere.
What the fuck else could he do, except piss her off so much she probably dreamed of stabbing his fucking ass. Adding insult to injury, he had to keep up this miserable charade until after Romantic Motherfucker Day.
He told CJ they could go on a double date. Kaia and Rebel, and Christopher and Megan. CJ looked at him like he’d lost his fucking mind.
“Fuck, son. Come with us. Ask the teacher that gave you a blowjob out for Valentine’s Day.”
Christopher smiled at how appalled CJ had been. At least, it eased their minds after Megan had been so frantic and they’d rushed their boy back to the hospital.
Diesel turned and looked over his shoulder. “Do you think Aunt Meggie would recognize me from behind?”
“Fuck no!” Christopher snapped. “That means she been studyin’ your goddamn ass and she not allowed to look below a motherfucker chin. She might accidentally see the imprint of his cock.”
His sons laughed, but he was fucking serious.
Grumpy at all the fuckery, Christopher glanced over his shoulder and focused on what he saw in the mirror. His ass looked like any motherfucker’s ass. He didn’t have eyes in the back of his fucking head, so he didn’t study the motherfucker very often.
He faced forward again, frowning at the tightness around his crotch. “Fuck, my cock don’t have room to breathe.”
“I thought it was only me,” CJ mumbled.
Christopher snickered. “Nope, shit like this not made for horse dicks.”
“Or big balls,” Diesel added.
Edie laughed and rolled her eyes. “You’re so fucking modest, Outlaw.”
“Nope, babe. Modesty got nothin’ to do with it. Just speakin’ fuckin’ fact.”
She was a couple years younger than him. Way back when, she’d been one of Derby’s favorite strippers, until Sis took her as his old lady. Christopher never knew why the motherfucker was called Sis. He married Edie, but their relationship fell apart under the weight of grief.
“We need bigger jumpsuits,” Christopher said. “Sew ass and hip pads into mine. I don’t think Megan’ll see me—” At least he hoped fucking not. “In case she do, I don’t want her recognizin’ my ass.”
“He means his literal ass,” Diesel clarified, sounding too fucking amused.
Christopher flipped him off and his sons laughed.
“I’ll let you know if Rory’s fit,” CJ said.
Rory was at school, so he hadn’t been able to come to the fitting with them. CJ would bring Rory’s to him later.
“We need everything by the 12 th ,” Christopher told Edie.
Though it was three days away, she didn’t flinch. “You bet.”
Once Christopher paid the bill in full, he ushered Diesel and CJ out into the cloudy, chilly afternoon, and walked to where he’d parked his Harley next to Diesel’s Mercedes.
“Want a smoke?” he asked the boys.
Diesel nodded, while CJ said, “Sure, Dad.”
Although Diesel and Christopher kept a steady conversation, CJ smoked his cigarette in silence.
“What’s up, boy?” Christopher asked a few minutes later as he flicked his cigarette away.
CJ shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
CJ was quieter these past few days. More contemplative. Christopher understood why. It made him want to kill a few more motherfuckers, but Megan had revoked his license to freely kill.
Not that it mattered how many assfucks Christopher grounded. CJ had to work through the emotions of almost losing his life. A hard lesson at a young age.
It still disturbed Christopher that one fucking bad decision on his part drew CJ into the club earlier than anticipated and had such dire consequences. Because of CJ’s changed status, he was so much more accessible.
“Are you okay, little brother?” Diesel asked, finishing his cigarette too, and tossing it.
“I want to drop out of school, Dad,” CJ announced.
The night of his overdose CJ and Christopher promised Megan he’d graduate. “CJ—”
“Hear me out,” CJ interrupted Christopher. “The only reason I’m going back next week is to earn a grade for Molly. A girl who might be dead. I don’t belong there anymore.”
“You can’t drop outta school, son,” Christopher said.
Memories of a similar conversation decades ago wrapped around him. Only then, he’d been the kid, younger than CJ, and Big Joe had tried to persuade him to at least obtain his high school diploma.
“Aunt Meggie wants to see you walk across the stage,” Diesel said.
CJ clamped his jaw and glanced away.
It was a full circle moment, one Christopher had been determined to avoid from the day CJ was born. Christopher always swore his kids would do better than him. Even if they were destined to patch in, they would do so better educated and with more options than he’d ever had.
“I don’t want to see Ember and have to call her Ms. LeBan . She sucked my dick in a fucking restaurant.”
Christopher and Diesel smiled at each other, then congratulated CJ again.
“You can play teacher and student,” Diesel said.
Christopher snickered. “The lil’ motherfucker ain’t kinky, Diesel. ”
“Not yet,” Diesel said.
CJ didn’t even crack a smile.
“Your ma wantcha to graduate, CJ.”
Frustration darkened CJ’s face. “Seriously, Dad, if it wasn’t for Mom, you’d let me drop out.”
Would he? Big Joe capitulated because Christopher was so unhappy, and Ma hadn’t cared, overwhelmed with raising all the girls.
“It don’t matter what my ass would do, boy. It matter what me and your ma agreed on.”
“The things I need to know—”
“You can’t learn in school,” Christopher finished as CJ spoke the exact words he had decades ago.
“See! You know what I mean.”
“I do. Your argument the same one I gave your grandpa. If I could go back, I woulda at least got my high school diploma. It makes a difference.”
“You’re brilliant without a diploma. Uncle Johnnie’s a college graduate and he’s still a stupid motherfucker. Education doesn’t make the man.”
Until his children began to grow up and enter young adulthood, Christopher never realized how much he wanted them to be proud of him.
Megan’s opinion was the one that mattered the most, always and forever.
His kids were his legacy, though. They would be the ones to tell his grandchildren and great-grandchildren about him.
Christopher’s grandfather left a trail of tears and violence.
No one could mention Big Joe without remembering the brutal addict and girl killer he’d become.
Hear the name Cee Cee and rapist immediately came to mind.
Sharper equaled murderer, sex trafficker, money grabbing motherfucker.
Rack, that big balled motherfucker, equated to torturer, manipulator, and abuser.
K-P had been the best of them. Often, Christopher felt as if he’d hung around for Big Joe.
And, after Boss’s death, K-P stayed to guide Christopher and watch over Mortician .
They bred a culture of death and destruction, rape and torture, where women were little more than disposable objects.
In spite of all the money Christopher, Johnnie, Mortician, Val, Cash, and Stretch had made from their criminal enterprise and the lives they gave their wives and children—and brother in Digger’s case since the motherfucker would be lost without Mort—their children were destined to be them .
Not only bikers with a large territory and vast network, but killers with targets on their backs. Their daughters would become Ma, Dinah, Roxanne, Megan, Zoann, Bailey, and Kendall all over again.