“Good.” She stepped back. “Now, come on out.”
Sniffling, Uncle Johnnie crawled from under the table. The moment he did, she cracked him across the back of his head and knocked him the fuck out.
“Give me my purse, Mortician,” she ordered.
Looking at her warily, Uncle Mort snatched her purse but didn’t walk to her.
“Did you do any fucking thing I need to beat your fucking ass for, boy?” she demanded.
He shook his head. “This from the last time or this over something new?”
“This from the last time and the next fucking time,” Lolly answered. “A bitch always getting into shit. Now, bring me my fucking purse.”
“Fuck, man,” Uncle Mort said, stomping to her and holding it out.
She jerked it from him, collapsed her baton, and sailed out.
“Dad, you don’t have anything to say?” CJ asked, wondering why his father wasn’t even questioning what was going on. He didn’t think Lolly had a chance to tell him anything. “Uncle Johnnie’s unconscious on the fucking floor.”
“Yeah, boy,” Dad said. “He’ll live.”
“Roxanne graduated from a broomstick to a real ass beater,” Uncle Val said.
“Looks fuckin’ like it,” Dad said, and lit a cigarette. “I’m just glad she didn’t have that motherfucker when she beat my ass.”
Friday, March 29th
For most of the night, Christopher hadn’t been able to sleep. Certainly fury kept him awake. He still wanted to gut Ryan. Cut his fucking fingers and toes off. Lob off his nose. Dig out his eyeballs. Maybe a few other things so he’d really suffer before Christopher chopped him in half.
Howfuckinever…Bitsy. To make shit worse, everyfuckinbody had to treat that little motherfucker normally when his ma was around, so she’d never discover the truth.
It made Christopher want to chew fucking nails and wish Diesel had filmed Ryan at the funeral home.
Diesel was the other motherfucker that stayed on Christopher’s mind. True, he’d said Megan gave him the idea to fuck with Ryan and she hadn’t even batted an eyelash when he told them what he’d done.
Rebel and Axel had shown a little too much glee, but what the fuck ever.
Christopher wasn’t stupid efuckinuff to believe Diesel had gone off the deep fucking end because Ryan had abused Harley, Mattie,andRebel. No, that motherfucker lost his goddamn mind because of Rebel.
Rebel and Diesel made Christopher think of him and Megan. Her when she’d first arrived, not legal to fucking drink, just an innocent with a beautiful soul and a kind heart.
He’d never met a girl like her before or since.
The type of bloodlust so prevalent in Rebel hadn’t manifested in her ma until recently, andhe’dbeen the motherfucker to bring it out.
Another reason Diesel was so fucking bad for Rebel. He’d have her as murderous as he was. The fucking Dangerous Duo. Rebel just didn’t give a fuck. Shewantedto kill. Kind of like Axel.
Megan turned on her side, and Christopher held his breath, waiting for her to awaken and gaze at him with her beautiful blue eyes. But it had been a long and emotional night. She was exhausted.
One of his favorite things to do was watch Megan sleep. Tucking hair behind her ear, he leaned over and brushed his lips over hers.
A part of him would always mourn the Megan who looked at people and chose to see good; who looked at the world and chose to see beauty. She’d loved him without fear or hesitation, the kind of love motherfuckers only dreamed about.
That Megan protected everyone and guarded his soul most of all. He’d molded her because she’d allowed herself to be so malleable.
Today, motherfuckers would say he groomed her, although Christopher didn’t see it that way. Fuck, she’d done the same to him, training him to keep his cock in his pants and his killer instincts under wraps.
Now…
