“We can always kill Cash,” Diesel suggested. “One less dissenter.”
“Fee and Stretch love that motherfucker. Since she my lil’ sister, that make motherfuckin’ Cash family in a way. He still on your ma No-Kill list.”
“A sentiment Axel doesn’t agree with,” Diesel said with a grin, and told Christopher how upset the kid had been with Cash. “Ax would be firmly on my side.”
Christopher laughed. “A couple more years and that lil’ motherfucker will build our bombs.”
“It’s a shame he took such a dislike to Cash, Uncle Christopher. Axel would soak up whatever Cash taught him and become a valuable club asset.”
“Or end up in fuckin’ prison by the time he twelve for blowin’ up any motherfucker who pissed him off.”
They chuckled.
“I’ll get it done,” Diesel promised. “I take it we won’t tell Rebel and Aunt Meggie yet?”
“No. Maybe about the rectory fire—” That wasn’t sitting right with Christopher. Shit happened, yeah. But when it was somehow connected to the club, shit happened for a reason. “Any idea how long Wilcunt been a priest?”
Diesel frowned. “Not a clue.”
“He knew Big Joe.”
“Do you think…? That’s impossible. What would Father Wilkins know that would get his rectory burned but not him gutted?”
Christopher’s thought, too. “It might not be connected to Bash. However, that fat lil’ motherfucker is a goddamn gangster pretending to be a priest.”
“He does have his favorite club girls.”
Which Megan didn’t fucking know about. “He also like to gamble. He like expensive shit. He’ll shake a motherfucker down in a minute. I had to save his fuckin’ life more than once cuz he won’t sit the fuck down.”
“Is he on Aunt Meggie’s No-Kill list?”
“Yeah. Maybe I need to let slip to your ma how he like his cock sucked?”
“She’ll be pissed,” Diesel agreed.
“Yeah, boy.” Christopher sighed and rubbed his eyes, exhausted. “But I gotta make up my goddamn mind how I want her to be.”
“True.”
“I just need answers fromsomemotherfucker, Diesel. If the priest know something and your ma take him off her No-Kill list, that’ll give me some leeway. Even if he don’t have nothin’ to do with Bash, I can at least cut his fuckin’ arm off for fuckin’ with me all these years.”
Diesel snickered. “Let it be, Uncle Christopher. Aunt Meggie is unhappy enough with you.”
Truth. “When you get back from LA, look into Michael Wilkins. That’s the priest’s full name, but don’t let Kendall know cuz she already riskin’ herself enough. If Wilcunt involved with Bash or some other shit, I ain’t wantin’ her in the middle of it.”
“How’s Johnnie?”
“Don’t know. Don’t give a fuck.” Uninterested in talking about that motherfucker, Christopher stood. “You coming, Diesel?”
“Huh? Uh, no, Uncle Chris. I need another drink. Tonight was a lot.”
Not only had tonight been a lot, but the past month, too.
Although Rebel didn’t want to leave Momma alone, she refused to stress her out any further and demand to stay. She’d been curled up in her bed and heard a scream that made her sit up. At first, she thought she’d been dreaming. Or awake and lost in a nightmare. She was home, the battle to survive fought and conquered. Now, she fought for her sanity.
Everything inside her felt dark and empty; shadows and misery chased her, too. Then, she’d heard raised voices, so she’d went to her door and listened.
The house was almost impenetrable, but anything was possible, and there were measures in place to protect everyone in case it was ever breached.
