“Tell my future brother-in-law he owes me an arm wrestle.”
“Goodbye, Joshua.” Cash hung up with his brother’s voice ringing in his ears. His growling stomach hastened him to the food everyone else was annihilating.
Daphne smirked at him. His turn with her was upon them.
He’d managed to escape what he’d promised the entire afternoon. But it seemed as if he’d run out of time and he had to fuck her, unless he came up with an excuse that wouldn’t piss her off and send her running to Outlaw with the truth of how Cash had spent his Saturday night.
Nothing to report. Kendall is just fine.
Christopher sighed at Fee’s text. Her insistence that all was well bothered the fuck out of him. He hoped Fee wasn’t being taken in by Kendall. Looking up to Zoann should’ve given Fee pointers on deceitful cunts. Bitsy would just as soon fuck up Kendall as talk to her.
He’d save this shit for another day, until he had real fucking proof that Kendall was at it again.
Wondering how Megan enjoyed her meet-up with Johnnie’s bitch, Christopher guided CJ and Rule into the clubhouse for a quick check before they headed home.
“Dig! Ashfuck,” his boy squealed, spotting Digger at Christopher’s corner table, flipping through a magazine.
“Dig!” Rule repeated, grinning. After sleeping the entire way home, he was wide awake. “As-fuck.”
“Ash,” CJ corrected. “Say ashfuck.”
“Yo.” Pretending he didn’t hear CJ instruct Rule, Christopher snatched the magazine, a quarterly about guns and ammunition. Respectable, unlike the day of Christopher’s downfall when he’d read a magazine about babies. Still, this was what his club had been reduced to. Reading. Play dates at parks. Babysitting.
“Hey, Prez.” Digger grabbed his cigarette from the ashtray and jammed it in the corner of his mouth. He squinted around the smoke and nodded to CJ. “Hey, lil’ dude.” They fist-bumped, CJ’s smaller fist ramming the SAA’s larger one. “You a violent lil’ motherfucker.”
“And you a ashfuck,” CJ retorted, climbing onto one of the seats, while Rule mirrored CJ in his greeting to Digger.
Whether or not his kid said ashfuck because he couldn’t say assfuck yet, Christopher wasn’t sure and didn’t give a fuck. What did fucking matter wasn’t what he’d said as much as it was being grammatically correct. “Say an assfuck, boy.”
“An ashfuck?”
Fuck, what the fuck had that boring ass motherfucker taught Christopher when he’d been in fucking school? Something about which fucking articles needed to be used in front of words that began with vowel sounds and the ones that began with consonant sounds. Christopher didn’t remember enough to give CJ a reason why he should use ‘an’. One thing he’d never forget was that motherfucker yelling to the class that the use of articles wasn’t based on the spelling but the sound. Christopher had wanted to fuck him up so bad. He’d been a condescending fuckhead.
“Why an?” CJ asked, just as Christopher expected.
“Why an?” Rule echoed.
He shrugged. “Cuz, that’s the right fuckin’ way. Okay?”
“Uh-huh.” CJ grinned at Digger. “You an ashfuck, Dig. I’ma violent motherfucker.” Leaning back, he swung his legs. “Ma a mother. Rory say mother for ma.”
Closing his magazine, Digger tapped out his cigarette. “What the fuck I’m missing?”
“That a ma a mother,” CJ stressed with exasperation.
“He…he’s,” Christopher corrected, attempting to keep a straight face, “tryin’ to say he found out a mother different from a motherfucker.”
CJ nodded with pride.
Digger howled with laughter and Christopher lost it too, while CJ shrieked with happiness.
“He gotta clean his fuckin’ mouth up before he start school,” Christopher said finally.
“Mommie say not to use fuck, shit, damn, hell, ashfuck, and motherfucker no more. Cuz if I say them words at school, she’ll be mad at me.” CJ squirmed in his seat. “I don’t like mommie mad at me. She ain’t let me on my tablet and I can’t play with Harley.”
“So no fuckin’ cussin’ no more, son?” Christopher asked, wondering if he should try and correct CJ’s speech again.
CJ shook his head in his exaggerated manner, hard enough to move his entire body. It surprised him that his kid didn’t rattle the fuck out of his brain. “No fuckin’ cussin’ no more, ‘Law.”
Though wrong like a motherfucker, Christopher laughed at his boy’s statement. Recovering, he looked at Digger. “Anything to know before I go home?”
“Nope. Situation the same it’s been for almost five fucking months. Quiet like a motherfucker.”
“Everything settled down,” Christopher pointed out. “Operations runnin’ smooth. Ain’t no motherfucker fuckin’ with us.” Except for that one motherfucker Mort had to see to. “It’s just fuckin’ domestic shit.”
“Domestic problems easy. Almost no fun. Once me and Bunny talk shit out, boom, it’s settled. No fucking strategizing. Staking motherfuckers out. Most problems we having right now is my fucking wedding and those goddamn tuxedos Bunny want us to wear.”
“She already know I ain’t wearin’ a fuckin’ monkey suit, Digger. I did it one fuckin’ time for Megan. Ain’t no other bitch gettin’ me in one.”
“Mommie a bitch?”
Christopher smoothed the hair at the nape of his neck. “No, boy. Ain’t meant that.”
Well, fuck. CJ being in school wasn’t such a bad thing. He wouldn’t be around to listen to adult conversations. See adult situations. Also, he’d have fucking professionals teaching him the proper language. It was too goddamn much trouble for Christopher.
“Time to fuckin’ go,” he announced, waiting until CJ and Rule slid out of their seats to head to the door. “Hit me on my cell if you need me, Digger. Other-fuckin-wise, see you tomorrow.”
While Rule grabbed his hand on the walk home, Christopher allowed CJ to run ahead, weaving between the bikes and yelling at the top of his lungs. Unable to stop his smile, Christopher followed behind, waving at the Probate on gate duty today, since Stretch was fucking around with Cash and that Bob.
And Diesel.
He wouldn’t fucking think about that situation. It was what the fuck it was.
CJ switched out the bikes with trees to continue zigzagging toward home. His motorcycle boots didn’t stifle his speed at all. Christopher wondered if his son would even know how to walk in sneakers. Not to mention how he’d act out of his cut. By now, his kid owned more cuts than he, himself, did since Megan made sure they kept up with CJ’s size.
In the fall, he’d be in uniform. How the fuck that would work out, Christopher couldn’t imagine. He’d be in school with Ryan, so they’d suffer together. It would be a huge change for the boys, going from the freedom they had at the club to a regimented education.
Reaching the residential area, Christopher saw Bailey’s Escalade parked in front of Mort’s house, along the street laid out for the sake of the girls. Megan parked her car in their garage most of the time. Zoann was probably out on a job, Bunny had no car, and Kendall lived too far in the woods for him to know if she was home or not.
Domestic problems easy.
According to Digger, anyway. He’d adjusted easily to family life. Out of all of them, he’d had Mort to protect the fuck out of him from the harsher realities of life, so he hadn’t had the fucking hang-ups the rest of them did.
Logan had hated Christopher and made his life miserable.
Logan had loved Johnnie and made his life miserable.
Val had been addicted to sex and drugs, after watching his father murder his mother. To this day, he didn’t know where her body was buried. That secret had died with his father.
Mort had despised his father, fucking psycho pervert the motherfucker had been.
Cash had a cheating, self-serving fuckhead for a father.
Stretch had self-righteous, judgmental assfucks in his entire fucking family.
>
So, yeah. Digger was the sanest out of all of them. The fucking trials he’d gone through had been his own fucking fault.
Christopher wasn’t against the fucking docility of the club nowadays, but he understood what the fuck the man meant. Today, at the park when Cash brought that bitch around, was the most excitement—club wise—Christopher had in months.
For that reason, he’d only put a fucking bug in Cash’s ear tomorrow. Tell him not to ever fucking bring a bitch around him like that again. If they were around Christopher at the club, that couldn’t be helped. And they fucking knew he was off-fucking-limits. Today, Cash had brought the chick for the express purpose of having all of them fuck over their wives.
Whether it had something to do with Fee or not wasn’t important. It had still happened. Because he’d enjoyed the offer just the tiniest fraction, he’d let Cash off the hook.
At the gate, CJ stood on tiptoe, struggling to enter the code due to height limitations. Releasing Rule’s hand, Christopher stopped behind CJ. Immediately, CJ hopped on his boots and punched in the numbers, then waited until Christopher closed the gate before he skipped forward again. Roaming guard dogs didn’t hamper them, since Christopher still hadn’t gotten more. He just didn’t have any fucking luck with those motherfuckers.
CJ paused at the moat, dipping his hand into the water. “A big gator gonna eat me, ‘Law,” he hollered.
Megan spun all kinds of fucked up stories for their kids about this moat. She didn’t like them around the water, so Christopher supposed she exaggerated the danger to keep them away, despite their swimming lessons.
As if that stopped his boy.
“CJ, no do that,” Rule called.
Instead of listening to his brother, CJ stuck his other hand in. He would’ve lost his balance and fallen over if Christopher hadn’t rushed and grabbed him.
“Bad CJ,” Rule said.
“Dumm ashfuck,” CJ responded.
“Stop both of you.” Christopher scowled at CJ. “Don’t fuck with this water, boy.”
“’Kay, ‘Law.” Off he went again, waiting at the mud room door until Christopher reached him. Then, he opened the door. “We home, Mommie.”
He’d eaten out with the guys and the kids, so Christopher wasn’t hungry. But the scent of garlic and onions hit him in the nose. Whatever the fuck she cooked smelled so fucking good.
“Bye!” Rule offered Megan a quick, “hey, ma,” before speeding off and yelling for Rebel at the top of his lungs.
Lowering the burner, Megan shook her head at Rule’s eagerness to get to his twin sister. She smiled at Christopher. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, baby.”
He leaned toward her for a kiss.
“Mommie, ‘Law got a pretty girl at the park with him,” CJ announced before Christopher touched his lips to Megan’s.
The words distracted her. Instead of giving Christopher a kiss, she frowned at CJ.
If Christopher said one fucking thing, it would worsen matters, so he shut the fuck up, pretending his heart wasn’t pounding a little too fucking fast.
“No, potato,” she said. “Daddy wouldn’t bring a girl to the park with him.”
Christopher winced, his stomach turning inside fucking out. He hadn’t brought a bitch with him. Cash had. Still, her belief in his faithfulness made him feel like shit right now. The Bob’s words had given him a hard cock. It didn’t matter if he’d been thinking about Megan. Another woman had caused the reaction.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, still looking at CJ. As far as she was concerned, the matter had dropped.
“The pretty girl that got white hair, Mommie,” CJ said, tugging on Megan’s shirt and looking gravely at her.
Christopher doubted CJ had put together in his head what was wrong about another woman being around him. He only knew it was wrong.
He also knew just what the fuck to say to get his ma’s attention.
She kneeled down. “The pretty girl with the white hair?” she repeated.
“Uh huh. That girl, Mommie. That girl you know.”
Her brows drawn together, Megan looked up at Christopher, then back to their son. “Mommie and Daddy know a lot of girls. Gurly has white hair. Is that who you’re talking about? The nice, older lady?”
“No, Mommie,” he said in exasperation. “That other girl that got white hair. The one that say I cute.”
Another glance up at him, showing a small bit of uncertainty. “Oh, um…”
“That girl that got her tits out. Remember?” he asked, digging Christopher’s grave and burying him. “That girl that say she got money from ‘Law.”
Megan cleared her throat, still not ready to believe the worst of Christopher, knowing whatever CJ was trying to say wasn’t accurate. “Daphne, you mean?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Daddy wouldn’t bring Daphne to the park, CJ.”
Christopher hadn’t even known her fucking name.
“Uh-huh, Mommie. Him did. Her was right next to ‘Law just like her say he like her to be.”
Megan stilled, like she’d fucking gazed over her shoulder, saw Sodom, and fucking turned into salt.
“That girl you don’t like, Mommie, cuz she want Daddy.”
To be fair, he’d never heard about whatever the fuck CJ was talking about. Beyond seeing that bitch in the clubhouse, the only time Christopher had ever brought her in his office was to give her some fucking money to have her car repaired, on Cash’s request. It had been so inconsequential, he’d fucking forgotten about it until now. Besides, Megan knew if the Dwellers’ club girls needed monetary help, they got it from club funds.
“Her say I listen good when her and Daddy got to talk about stuff. Her say I play by the bar while her and Daddy in his office. Remember that girl?” he prodded.
“She was at the park with you, sweet potato?” Megan whispered, her tone caught between disbelief and the dawning realization that CJ spoke the truth.
“Uh-huh. By Daddy. Her kept smiling at ‘Law and ‘Law kept smiling back.” He gave her a grave look. “’Law told me to go play.”
Megan shot to her feet and stumbled back, the pulse point at her throat beating rapidly. “You were there to play with your cousins,” she reminded him.
CJ tugged Megan’s shirt again. “Why her came to the park by daddy?”
“She wasn’t…” Megan glanced between Christopher and CJ and opened her mouth, trying again. “Daddy wouldn’t…”
She swallowed. Judging by her look, her mind spun, replaying every run-in she’d ever had with that girl. If she put together every insinuation the girl had ever made with CJ’s explanation, she’d come to some pretty fucked up conclusions.
This was so fucking bad. CJ had picked out only the parts pertaining to Christopher. He hadn’t mentioned Diesel or Cash or even the fact that Christopher told Cash he’d never cheat. All the fuck he knew was a bitch who shouldn’t have been there, had shown up.
A heavy, deafening silence filled the space between them.
He’d talk before CJ opened his mouth again and got him in deeper shit. “Baby, ain’t what you thinkin’.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking, Christopher?” Megan snarled, throwing him one of her die-now-motherfucker looks.
“Let me fuckin’ explain.”
She spun to the stove and turned off the burner. “There’s nothing to explain, Christopher. Every time me and Bunny go to the club and Daphne’s there, she gives me crap. Always talking about us and them. She walks around the club like she owns it.”
“I ain’t fuckin’ know about this shit, Megan,” he yelled, seeing where this was leading. Motherfucking Cash. “If you woulda told me about the problems she was givin’ you, I woulda told Cash to get rid of her.”
She glared at him, then looked at their boy. “Come on, CJ. We’re going for a ride.”
Instead of allowing her to leave, Christopher grabbed her and spun her around.
“What the fuck you doin’?”
Growling in frustration, he shook her. “Baby, look at me.”
When she raised her gaze to him, the tears in her eyes cut through him. All the tiny enjoyment he’d gotten out of Cash’s stunt today went to fucking hell.
“I ain’t ever touchin’ no other bitch. I swear.”
“Why was she at the park, Christopher? With our sons,” she spat, torn between anger and hurt. Betrayal.
“Cash brought her,” he answered.
She fell silent and studied him, but even though she was hurt and angry, she still trusted him. Hope that he was telling the truth glimmered in her watery eyes. Holding her face between his hands, he thumbed away the wetness on her cheeks.
“You can call him and ask him,” he croaked.
“Why did he bring her to the park?” she demanded. “One of the girls who’s kept under club protection to pleasure the brothers. What reason would he have to bring her to the park on the day you’re supposed to be bonding with CJ and Rule?”
“Megan, fuck. The motherfucker was drinking or smoking. I ain’t in his fuckin’ head to say why he thought I’d want this bitch to suck my cock, but I ain’t let her fuckin’ do it.”
Fuck, that came out so fucking wrong. But he was panicking as she went from hurt to anger to betrayal to disbelief before starting her emotional cycle all over again. She’d always told him she wouldn’t tolerate cheating. That she’d leave.
“You wanted her to suck you off,” she yelled, not caring who fucking heard. Not even their kids.
The motherfuckers buried across town in the cemetery heard her.
“No! Fuck.” He shook her again, to put some fucking sense into her. “She was sayin’ all kinds of shit, baby. I’ma fuckin’ man, Megan. My cock got hard but I was fuckin’ thinkin’ about you.”
“She still made you hard!” She flailed her arms in an effort to get away, but he tightened his hold.
He was going to motherfucking kill Cash.
“Megan, you know I ain’t cheatin’ on you,” he said, desperate. “You know that. I think you more fuckin’ mad cuz it’s a bitch you fuckin’ hate. A bitch who don’t know her goddamn place with you. The anger you fuckin’ feel for her you takin’ out on me.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 307
