“Take the kids out to eat after this shit’s over. CJ, Ryan, Grant, Devon, and Rory got to come with us.”
“Okay,” she’d whispered.
Without Christopher telling her, she knew that CJespeciallyhad to return to the clubhouse.
Now, Diesel was pacing in front of Dead Ned, stiff as a motherfucker on the floor in front of the bondage chair where Ryan sat, “guarding” the corpse on Diesel’s instruction. More psychological torture for a motherfucker who needed a beating every fucking day for the rest of his life. He was pale and teary-eyed, not moving away and too scared to faint since Diesel promised to chain him to Dead Ned if he did.
As furious as Val was with his kid, he didn’t like Diesel’s punishment. Ryan’s life was still in danger, though. Luckily,Mort was too consumed with everything else to accurately assess Ryan’s role in Harley’s misery.
Undoubtedly, he would’ve killed Ryan to avenge his girl. Mortician was a good motherfucker, an honorable one. He wouldn’t have wanted to stay after he took the life of that coward because Ryan’s death would’ve destroyed Val and Zoann. Christopher protected his nephew on behalf of Val and in the interest of the club. More than anything, he saved that fuckhead’s life because of Zoann. She had survived so fucking much. Everyone thought her toughness got her through. In a way, it had, but not before she almost took her own life.
If she lost Ryan, she’d hold on for Val and Devon, but she would never be the same again. And what if she lost Ryan to Mortician’s bullet and discovered how her son terrorized and victimized innocent girls?
Christopher didn’t even want to consider that. So, yeah, if he could get away with preserving a few eyeballs and chaining them to that motherfucker, he would. Val could fucking choke on it.
Because, in case the motherfucker forgot, Christopher was also overlooking what Ryan did to Rebel. Fuck, and Mattie, because Johnnie might blame her as much as he did Ryan. Assfucks were unpredictable. The point was Christopher saving Ryan from execution wasn’t an easy fucking decision. He wanted his own fucking retribution.
“Here, CJ.”
Diesel held Aunt Mary, freshly rolled, out to CJ.
Scowling, he shoved Diesel’s hand away. “Fuck you.”
“Devon made this,” Diesel said tightly. “And even ifIhad, I wouldn’t lace it with anything. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“It help to get you through what you got to do, CJ,” Mort said.
Remaining silent, Christopher lit a cigarette, wondering if Megan wasn’t right about Diesel.
“I have a question,” Grant said, a little pale but so far standing firm.
“For?” Val asked.
“Anyone who’s willing to answer.”
“We might not be able to answer it, little dude,” Mortician said, holding out his hand to Diesel for Aunt Mary. He hit her and then smiled at Grant. “But we listening.”
“Why does CJ have to dismember Nardo? Aren’t dead bodies…?” Grant flushed, his gaze flickering to Mortician and then to the floor. “He killed him. Shouldn’t that be the end of it?”
“First kill,” Diesel responded. “He has to dispose of him.”
“Besides, Nardo’s still under eighteen like CJ,” Devon added, then looked at Ryan and swallowed.
Another guilty fuckhead. Devon and Ryan’s new bond over the past few days hadn’t escaped Christopher. He’d bet that motherfucker’s head, Devon knew what the fuck Ryan had done. Not only hadn’t he opened his fucking mouth, but he’d let Ryan take the fucking fall alone. Guilt by fucking association still warranted punishment. Again, though,Zoann. If he shook the fuck out of Devon, she might accidentally learn the truth.
Maybe Christopher could confront him while he was there. He just had to figure out a way to get Mortician out. Grant, too. All Roxanne needed to do was get suspicious and wield her collapsible baton and that motherfucker would cave.
Devon focused on Val. “Right, Dad?”
“Yeah, boy.”
“I can show you were to cut, CJ,” Rory offered, his eyes as bright with insanity as Johnnie’s always got at the prospect of gore.
“Always so loyal to CJ, Ro.” Devon’s tinge of shade escaped most motherfuckers. “Commendable, cuz.”
“Fuck off,” Rory said.
“Dad, did you have to dismember someone when you…?” CJ started, too overwhelmed to pick up on the fumes of fuckery. “Never mind. I remember the story you told me.”
