“Mortician is following in the footsteps of many. Throwingyouaway for Kendall.”
Bailey blinked, then her bloodshot eyes widened before she shook her head. “Lucas is many things, but he isn’t a cheater.”
Almost Megan’s exact words about Christopher. But Bailey was as easy to break as Megan. Johnnie saw the fear in her eyes. Just like Megan, when faced with almost irrefutable proof that her motherfucker was sticking his cock in another woman, Bailey immediately backtracked.Andshe wasn’t hearing what he was saying.
Frustration filled him, so he drank again and focused on her.
“How many drinks have you had tonight?”
“About the same as any other night since the evening I confronted Lucas about all the lies. A lot.”
“Is there a reason you’re drinking so much?”
“My husband hates me. My sons are angry with me. What reason do I havenotto drink?”
Interesting she didn’t mention Harley. Her daughter, her problem.
“I know this will be difficult to hear, Bailey, but you have to listen to me if you want us to save our marriages.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding.
“In the Black community, you’d be celebrated for your light skin and soft hair texture, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Bailey mumbled, her cheeks reddening because they both knew she dissembled.
“Here, at the club, you’re mid-tier by most standards.” He smiled sympathetically. “Especially when you’re compared to Megan. Golden hair. Blue eyes.”
She nodded, her misery even more pronounced.
Johnnie pulled out his cell phone, so furious with Mortician he wanted to make him suffer and bring him to his fucking knees. It didn’t matter if Kendall fucked that motherfucker. Hewouldn’tlet her go. “Frankly, Christopher and I slept with more Black women than your husband.”
Christopher had. Johnnie had only slept with two or three.
Tears filled Bailey’s green-brown eyes and her lips trembled. “Wh-what are you saying?”
“Since he can’t have Megan, he’s made his move on Kendall. In his eyes, you’re inferior and will never measure up to the type of women he actually wants.”
Bailey began to cry in earnest.
He shoved back from the table and opened his arms. “Come here, sweetheart,” he told her, and smiled when she stood and rushed into his embrace.
Thirty minutes after Church ended and most of the club members were gone, Christopher sat at his table with Diesel, Val and Stretch. The moment Mortician left, Digger returned to whatever room he was using at the club and Ophelia came to wheel Cash home. Johnnie went wherever. Hopefully, to check on his wife. Or, maybe, to fall off the face of the fucking earth.
Christopher intended to head home soon, but CJ decided to hang out with Ryan and Grant as they talked to Rory. Christopher thought it was best to wait for his boy, so they could walk home together, but the little motherfucker didn’t seem like he’d leave anytime soon.
“Harley!” Grant called. “What are you doing here?”
“Dad’s already gone, Mattie,” Rory added.
“So’s Uncle Mort,” CJ said.
Halting between Christopher and CJ’s tables, Harley and Mattie exchanged glances, then remembered to paste smiles on their faces and greet everybody.
“What are you two doing here?” Christopher demanded.
It wasn’t unheard of that they came after Church ended, but it was usually with their mas.
“We need Ryan’s help?” Harley squeaked.
