“Christopher, I’m not hear to betray you,” Johnnie said shakily, still out of sight, his voice traveling from the direction of the kitchen.
“No, cuz you already fuckin’ did that to Mortician, you fuckin’ motherfuckin’ assfuck, fuckhead, motherfucker.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never…I didn’t think there would be such dire consequences. I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Please believe me. I would never endanger Mattie or Harley.”
He shouldn’t endangeranyof the kids, but he’d left off Rebel, Winnie, and Jo, if she wanted to be technical and focus on the girls.
“Motherfucker, I got daughters too,” Christopher spat. “Fee got a daughter, so fuck you.”
Johnnie was silent, then he said, “Bash is with me.”
Christopher growled, and Meggie gritted her teeth.
“Megan, sweetheart, if you can hear me, I swear this isn’t a trap or a setup. Tell Christopher we just want to talk to him. Please?”
“If you open your motherfuckin’ mouth, Megan, I’m puttin’ you the fuck out. Ain’t nothin’ either one of those fuckheads can say convincin’ me this wasn’t a fuckin’ setup.”
“Do you really think I’d allow my own daughter to get attacked?” Johnnie asked. “How fucking low has your opinion of me gone?”
“Motherfucker, my opinion, and how I feel about you, stopped matterin’ to you a long fuckin’ time ago, so don’t fuckin’ play me.”
Meggie wasn’t sure what to do. If it was a setup and Christopher walked to wherever those two were, they’d shoot him. If it wasn’t and he shot Bash, a real war between the clubs would start.
“Christopher?” Celia called from the direction of the staircase.
“Celia, get the fuck back upstairs,” Bash ordered harshly, the first time he’d spoken.
“You can take me as your hostage,” Celia said, her voice wobbling. “If Bash tries anything, kill me.”
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Bash demanded.
Celia putting herself in Christopher’s hands was quite different than Meggie picking up that gauntlet and trusting Bash. But they hadn’t moved very far from the doorway. She didn’t want a Scorpion to show up and shoot Christopher in the back.
Taking a deep breath, Meggie said, “If Christopher agrees to take you, I’ll do the same with Bash.”
The complete and utter silence following her statement made Christopher’s humorless laugh all the more chilling.
Arms raised, Celia stepped into view. Meggie identified with the fear in her eyes.
“Fuckin’ fuckhead.” Christopher looked at Meggie and indicated his sister with his .9mm. “Frisk her.”
He sounded calmer, which Meggie counted as progress, so she hurried to follow his orders, not pausing to comfort Celia, only wanting the situation diffused.
Celia’s jeans and sweater made her job fairly simple. Meggie felt her hips, thighs, and the baggy legs, not finding any hidden weapons.
“Raise your sweater,” she said.
Celia complied.
Seeing she was unarmed, Meggie stepped back and nodded to her sister-in-law. “My turn.”
“Thank you,” Celia mouthed.
“Thank me after we all leave alive,” Meggie whispered.
“Megan ain’t got to be fuckin’ frisked,” Christopher grumbled, his anger returning. “She got tight fuckin’ leather on.”
“I’ll take off my jacket and boots,” Meggie said calmly.
