“Negative,” Derby interrupted. “I’m not leaving my new cocksucker’s side tonight.”
“Gypsy—”
Derby grunted. “Let me guess. My bitch is crying to yours that I’m not answering her fucking calls. I should’ve known you were callingforMeggie because Gypsy—”
“Is dead, Derby,” Christopher managed, those fucking words harder than a motherfucker to say. Itcould’vebeen Megan or Rebel or any of his sisters and nieces. More than that, he’d known Gypsy for thirty years and…fuck. “Your woman dead.”
Christopher blinked away the moisture in his eyes. Gypsy had been fucking stacked when he’d first met her. She’d gone from a stripper in Derby’s club to him selling her pussy to Burning Hound property, and finally his old lady. Christopher had never fucked her, although he loved to party with her. For whatever reason he’d never wanted to fuck her. But–
“Is this your idea of a fucking joke, Outlaw?” Derby finally exploded after an interminable silence in which Gypsy and Christopher’s friendship replayed in his head like a movie set to slow motion. “This isn’t funny, motherfucker.”
Christopher sat heavily in one of the chairs and looked at her covered body. “It ain’t a joke, Derby. Wally, Jr. shot and killed her.”
“I’m on my way.”
The line disconnected.
“Prez, you want to see her?” Mortician walked through the double doors that led to the kitchen and went to a stool in front of the counter near Gypsy’s shrouded body. “We can unwrap her.”
“The footage, Outlaw.” Stretch plunked his cell phone in front of Christopher. “Mortician tried to protect her,” he muttered, hesitating. “I’m just the fucking messenger. Okay?”
“What the fuck you talkin’ about?”
Sighing, Stretch pressed play. The moment Christopher heard what the motherfucker had planned for Rebel, he understood Stretch’s reluctance.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Christopher watched the rest of footage in silence, then slid the phone away. “Get Tee the fuck out. Derby going to want to shoot his fucking ass off.”Hefucking felt like shooting that motherfucker. And Wally, Jr.? He wishedthatmotherfucker was still alive so he could fucking torture him. “We’re gonna address the Tee issue some other time, but this not the fuckin’ time.” Not long after Tee left, and Narci, Potter, Torrin, and Huck arrived, Derby and members of the Burning Hounds walked in.
Standing, Christopher met Derby’s gaze and nodded toward the counter. “She there.”
For long moments, Derby stared at the blanket-wrapped body, not moving or speaking. Justfrozen.
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Derby,” Christopher murmured, not wanting to imagine himself in Derby’s place but somehow unablenotto. What could he say to his friend? If that was Megan…he blinked, swallowed, blinked again. Jesus fucking Christ. If that was Megan, there would be nothing anyone could say to him that would soothe him, bring her back, or make it right. “I’m sorry, brother.”
Derby glanced in all corners of the diner, then stared at the floor and heaved in a breath. “Are you sure it’s her?” he asked, his voice trembling.
Unfuckinfortunately. “A hundred percent.”
Derby walked to where she lay like a man condemned with iron weights clamped around his ankles. Hands trembling, heremoved the blanket. He stared at her, touched her cheeks. “She didn’t close her eyes,” he said, bending over her, burying his face against her neck, and sobbing.
More proof how fucked up emotions were. Derby had never treated Gypsy with the respect she’d deserved. He never acted as if he loved her. Yet, grief poured from him in his tears, his actions, and his words.
He stroked her hair. “I’m so fucking sorry, Gypsy. I should’ve made an honest woman of you. I thought I had more time. I thought you’d always be there, waiting for me. I love you so fucking much. I should’ve…” He bent over her and sobbed again. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
No one interrupted him. He needed to get it out. In Gypsy lay Christopher’s greatest fear. That one day, his lifestyle would cost Megan her life. It could’ve been this time. Like Mort said, if that little motherfucker had run across any of their women, they would’ve gotten killed.
Fuck.Mattie. Wally, Jr. would’ve killed Mattie and called it even. But Grant saved her. Christopher would never be able to repay that motherfucker for realizing she wasn’t there and going to search for her.
Christopher wasn’t sure how long Derby cried or talked to her. No one spoke, allowing him the time to come to grips with the initial shock.
Finally, Derby staggered to Christopher, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen. One of his brothers handed him a wad of napkins.
“What happened, Outlaw?” He dabbed at his cheeks. “How’d she get killed? Fuck, what am I going to tell our kids? They love the fuck out of their mama. What happened?”
“Sit,” Christopher ordered.
“I have to get Gypsy—”
“Stretch pulled footage and sent it to his phone,” Christopher said. “Seeing it better than I can fucking explain it.”
