Johnnie snapped his mouth shut.
“I’ll give you your fuckin’ money back, Mort,” Christopher said.
“No, Prez. It’s okay. We family. Besides, this important to Harley. She want to make amends to how she acted toward Molly.” Mort leaned over and clapped Val on the back. “I got you, son. Don’t even fucking worry about it.”
“I can’t repay you, Mort.”
“I’m not asking you, Val.”
“You’d ask me,” Digger grouched.
Mortician cut his eyes at his brother as a burst of laughter floated from where CJ, Ryan, Grant, Rory, and Devon were playing pool, acting like not only family, but friends. Just as it should be.
Seeing that eased Christopher’s anger toward Ryan. He’d confessed and regretted what he’d done. Besides, CJ forgave Rory and Ryan for their coverup. Life could finally get back to normal.
Molly had been found. Bash revealed what he actually wanted. Jo was coming home soon. Tabitha would be kicked to the fucking curb. Cash and Digger got their beatdowns. Motherfuckers were healing, hopefully with their fucking brain back where the fuck it belonged. Christopher had gotten control of his club again. He had his license to kill, amended but what the fuck ever. And Megan had forgiven him and still loved him.
For now, all he had to do was kill Easton, look forward to a birthday or two, Harley’s play, and sealing the peace agreement before he took Megan away to celebrate their anniversary.
Fuck yeah, there were loose ends. For instance, Johnnie needed to die. Or, maybe, Roxanne needed to beat his ass. Rebelneeded her cast off. She needed to jump back in the saddle and get back in a swimming pool, go to the natatorium and face the scene of the crime, or both. Kendall needed to meet Jana. Johnnie needed toacceptJana.
Ned and Nardowoulddie tonight or tomorrow. Rule would heal and return home. CJ would focus on school again. Axel would settle down and realize his ma wouldn’t leave again, especially if she were pregnant. He’d stop fucking claiming he was building a goddamn bomb.
Shit. Diesel might have to die, too. Christopher wasn’t sure yet. Speaking of that motherfucker, he wanted to ask him why he’d gone to Brookings. When he’d seen the tracking information, he wondered what brought him there this time. The haunted look he’d seen on Diesel’s face worried Christopher.
Yeah, he might have to kill the motherfucker because of Rebel, but he was still his son, family, and he loved him. He’d regret killing him and miss him terribly, but he either behaved or fucking died.
That would be another fucked up addition to their twisted family tree. Another thing Christopher needed to do was resolve the issue of who begot who. Because there was a lot of begotting and begetting.
Fuck, there was also Molly. She’d need extensive treatment and support. He also wanted to introduce Celia to the rest of the family.MaybeBash, too. He wasn’t too fucking sure yet.
Double fuck. He had to drop Kaia from the side of a cliff. He also needed to get Bishop the fuck out of the house and away from Rebel.
Megan said not to interfere with Rebel dating. Christopher would do that and fucking more. He just wouldn’tletMegan know he was blocking motherfuckers from their girl. When she turned eighteen, he’d choose a guy for her. Someone who wouldlisten tohimand nother. All the fuckheads currently identified,three–Kaia, Bishop, and motherfuckingDiesel–would cave the minute she lost her fucking temper. Or smiled at them.Or, fuck her,flirtedwith them.
“Prez, you okay?” Mort asked.
“Fuckin’ fine,” Christopher snapped.
Val frowned. “Then why you fucking look like you ready to kill us all?”
“I’m just fuckin’ thinkin’ about all the shit I gotta do before me and Megan leave,” he growled. It was the partial truth. “A fuckin’ lot.”
“When don’t you have a lot to do, Christopher?” Johnnie asked.
Fuckhead was right, but this wasbullshit. How the fuck had solving some problems created a fuckton more?
“I want to fuckin’ focus on my woman and celebratin’ our anniversary,” he said irritably. “One fuck up can jeopardize our trip.”
“Prioritize, Uncle Christopher,” Diesel suggested. “See to the most urgent matters and then push everything else aside until after you get back.”
Christopher nodded. “Ain’t got a fuckin’ choice but to do that. Besides, the shit not really life and death.” Not his or Megan’s, anyfuckingway. “Shit smoothin’ over, so I’ll fuckin’ think about all this shit some other time.”
“Good,” Knox called. “Now, can I have a drink?”
“Beer or wine?” Bishop asked.
“Nothing so pedestrian for me.”
