The scent of alcohol permeated the air. She dripped with various liquor. Small cuts marred her face, but she was oblivious, shaking and in tears.
“Here.” Val shoved a joint at her, then looked at Johnnie. “She fucked up the alcohol. She need something to calm her.”
“She doesn’t smoke weed, motherfucker.” Johnnie knocked Val’s offering away and pressed his own hand against her face. “Breathe, Kendall. Breathe,” he soothed. “You’re okay, gorgeous. You’re fine.”
She stared at him, her eyes huge, then she leaned into Johnnie and sobbed. “My baby,” she wailed. “My sweet, sweet baby. Why’d they do that to her?”
“Shhh, sweetheart. It’s okay. She’s okay. We’re going to get her through this. You and me. Together.”
Potter stumbled from behind the bar, dazed and scratched, but otherwise unharmed because she hadn’t hit him. As hard as she was swinging the bat, she would’ve broken something. And if she would’ve hit his head, she would’ve cracked it open.
“I’m so sorry, Kendall. I didn’t know. I swear if I would’ve known I would’ve buried them myself.”
The faint sound of a gunning engine and a car screeching to a halt reached Christopher. A minute later, the door opened and Megan ran in, car keys in hand. She looked at Christopher and he nodded.
“I texted her, Dad,” CJ whispered as Megan rushed to Kendall and Johnnie stepped out of the way.
“Roxy’s on the way to the house, love,” Megan said. “The three of us can have a glass of wine. You can tell us all about it.”
Kendall swallowed.
In her bare feet, Megan wore a pair of tiny shorts and an oversized sweatshirt.Shedidn’t notice the members ogling her,especiallyJohnnie, but Christopher did.
“You two gotta get the fuck out so we can proceed,” he barked, wanting Megan away from the fucking leers.
“You’re right, Christopher,” Megan said, backing away while Johnnie assisted Kendall to her feet. “Let’s go, love.”
“Okay,” Kendall murmured.
“Potter, you and Torrin clean up,” Christopher directed once Megan guided Kendall out. “Narci, Huck, and Bishop, get to the storeroom and bring out beer. That’s all we have for now. We don’t have fuckin’ time to dig out nothin’ else.”
Christopher allowed ten minutes to clean shit up and set the bottles of beer on the bar counter. It also gave everyone time to settle down and resume conversation, though Potter and Huck continued clearing away all the broken shit. Kendall did thousands in damage. Of course, Christopher couldn’t let that pass without a fucking fine, but as her husband and the club member, Johnnie would receive the discipline.
He waited until everyone who wanted a beer had one before he started over and called the meeting to order, then dove into the matters at hand.
“Derby ain’t let me know plans for Gypsy’s services. But I was thinkin’ we should order arm bands. I gotta ask her favorite color—”
Rory raised his hand and Christopher lifted a brow. Not because the little motherfucker had a comment, but because of his condition. Teary-eyed, red-faced, and all around fucking miserable, even before his ma’s meltdown. He’d walked in despondent and his mood devolved from there.
“What, Rory?” he asked, studying his nephew, then looking at CJ and wondering why neither Rory, CJ, nor Ryan, Devon, and Grant could meet his eyes.
“Gypsy’s favorite color was magenta, Uncle Christopher,” Rory said hoarsely.
Squinting, Christopher cocked his head to the side.
“Gypsy was a cool chick, son,” Johnnie said, missing what was suddenly so fucking obvious. “She loved to talk to anyone about inconsequential shit, since Derby was so fucking neglectful of her. I hope she didn’t bore you when she cornered you at Megan’s.”
His flush spreading to his ears and neck, Rory bowed his head. “She didn’t, Dad,” he whispered.
“Didyouknow Gypsy’s favorite color, CJ?” Johnnie asked.
CJ glowered at him. “I wasn’t required to since I wasn’t fucking her.”
Christopher sighed, wishing his boy got his head on fucking straight. He would’ve known better than to blurt that shit.
Snickers floated up and Rory cringed.
“Rory should beat you for that fucking lie,” Johnnie said, brimming with hostility.
