“Be that as it may, I expect the wedding will be sometime next year. If for some reason, he doesn’t go through with it or it doesn’t last and he’s free when Rebel turns eighteen…”
“No! Fuck you. Fuck him. Fuck no. She ain’t gettin’ with that motherfucker.”
“If there’s the choice between losing my daughter or accepting him, guess what I’m choosing?”
“You ain’t losin’ her over that motherfucker. I’ll fuckin’ fuck him up first.”
“We’d still lose her. She’d never forgive us.”
“Didn’t you just fuckin’ say you don’t think she’d hurt us—”
“I did, but I didn’t say it was zero chance. I’m counting on her love for us and her loyalty to our family, but what if I’m wrong? Rebel is so strong-willed. What if she somehow convinces Diesel to take her away so she can be with him? Or what if you kill him and she can’t forgive us and runs away?”
Christopher would capitulate for now. He didn’t want Megan to worry, especially about Rebel, but he’d find a way to nip a relationship with her and Diesel in the fucking nutsandstop his wife from taking their girl away for “mother/daughter” time. Fuck that. He’d never give her the fucking chance to leave him.
“What you got in mind, baby?” he grouched, because just having to give in that much pissed him the fuck off.
“I saw this adorable treehouse. You know how you have to climb up to reach the first level of CJ’s?”
“That’s why the motherfucker a treehouse, baby. You gotta climb up a fuckin’ tree.”
“Well, the one I saw had a kitchen, guest bathroom, dining room and living room in the trunk area—”
“How big is that motherfuckin’ trunk? Or are the rooms for motherfuckers the size of elves?”
“It’s not a real trunk,” she said in exasperation.
“Yeah, but that motherfucker costrealfuckin’ money.”
“Do you want to hear about the other levels or what?”
“How many more fuckin’ levels this fake fuckin’ treehouse got?”
“Four to six.”
“Four to…? You’ve lost your fuckin’ mind. Why the fuck CJ need a fucking redesigned…” Diesel’s face rose in Christopher’s head and he just knew he was about to keel the fuck over. “We bought that fuckhead a condo, Megan. Ain’t buildin’ him a goddamn luxury treehouse that ain’t even made from a fuckin’ tree.”
“What is wood made from ifnota tree?”
“Manufactured wood cheaper. I can understand the partnership in the firm. That motherfucker would be obligated to me. Why another fuckin’ house?”
“Not a house. CJ’s treehouse.”
“It could be CJ’s firehouse. That ain’t answerin’ my fuckin’ question.”
“It’sCJ’s. That we’d tear down and give to Diesel.”
“I fuckin’ know that. You keep sayin’ it, Megan.”
“At one time, CJ had the biggest room after ours.”
“So? The lil’ motherfucker required a lot of space.”
“Christopher,Diesel’sour eldest.”
“Because he the oldest, he should have CJ’s treehouse?”
“Yep.”
