“Not all the time,” Diesel admitted, in physical pain, though he was unable to pinpoint the exact location in his body. He wanted to grab the 8-Ball so badly it felt as if he hurt all over. He was hot and cold, chilled and burning.
“This will take your pain away, Diesel,” Narci insisted. “CJ isn’t here. Outlaw isn’t here. Meggie isn’t here. And even if Rebel could be here, she wouldn’t be. She left her big brother on his milestone birthday. I saw your face. Her behavior crushed you.”
Diesel began to shake.
“One line, brother,” Narci said again, almost crooning those words, playing on Diesel’s addiction.
But he was wrung out tonight. He couldn’t see anyone else’s face except Rebel’s, filled with anger and hurt. Tomorrow, he’d re-engage with his never-ending battle to stay away from drugs.
Tonight, he didn’t care.
One line wouldn’t hurt. One line would satisfy his craving and take away everything—his self-loathing and her hatred.
Snatching the coke, he got to his feet and headed to the bathroom with Narci’s satisfied laughter floating behind him.
Dinner would be later than usual tonight, and it wouldn’t be in the dining room. Kendall had stayed close to home most of the day, instead of going into the office and rereading the letters from those psychopaths and making sure she hadn’t missed anything. She’d created family trees, noted all the birth certificates for each person—and the discrepancies or outright fucking lies—and logged her own speculations.
The volumes of documents were kept under lock and key in her office. She wished she would’ve asked Outlaw to keep them at the club for times like this, when Kendall couldn’t bring herself to leave Mattie. When Kendall decided to take a break and start dinner, she’d gone toMattie’s room and asked if she wanted to help out.
Mattie said no, then explained how worried she was about Harley, which prompted Kendall to check on Mort’s daughter and bring her to the house until Zoann returned from Diesel’s party.
After dinner, she’d call Mort and tell him to check on Harley, who was suffering physically and mentally, something Kendall was very well acquainted with.
Sighing, Kendall opened the refrigerator, saw the lamb chops she’d defrosted for tonight’s meal, then slammed the door shut and leaned against it, gripping the handle like a lifeline. She couldn’t believe—
“Mom?”
Rory’s call prompted Kendall to lift her head, drop her hands from the handle, and turn. Her son stood on the other side of the island, rings around his eyes.
“Hi, honey,” she said. He’d been up half the night because he’d been in the meatshack.
CJ had killed Nardo. Last night, neither Kendall nor Meggie knew why Outlaw and Diesel took the boys. Once Meggie found out earlier today, she’d called Kendall. However, Rory hadn’t been himself for several days.
She went to him and hugged him tightly. “It’s okay, son,” she told him. “It will be okay. Mattie is struggling right now, but we’ll get her through this.”
Mattie’s attack had hit Rory hard and then when those fucking videos came to light…
Rory laid his head on Kendall’s shoulder and held onto her as if he’d never let go. As if he wanted to disappear and hide from the world.
“It isn’t only Mattie, Mom,” Rory croaked. “It’s…it’s Gypsy, too.”
Kendall let that sink in. “Gypsy?”
“Yeah, Mom,” he choked. “I’ve known her all my life. She worked at Crowne’s, with all the pretty gifts, and gave me a discount. She was such a nice lady. She shouldn’t have gotten killed like that.”
“I agree,” Kendall said, and the tension floated from her.
At least the tension from the unkind thought that Gypsy and Rory…fuck…predatory behavior was beyond the fucking pale even for that pathetic bitch.
“She was so pretty, too.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Kendall took her son’s beloved face between her hands. “You had a crush on Gypsy?”
Rory lowered his lashes, dark blond like Johnnie’s, then raised his miserable gaze to hers. “I know you think she was a pathetic old woman—”
“She was pathetic, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t pretty. No woman should put up with the bullshit Derby handed to her. If she wasn’t attractive, I would’ve thought she felt as if shecouldn’t do any better. She was quite pretty, though.”
“Dad didn’t think so.”
