Mort’s tortured voice told Christopher how well that worked out.
“Take as much time as you need, Mort.”
“Only if Bailey find her fucking mind because she lost that motherfucker somewhere along the way.”
“Let me know how I can help.”
Subdued, Mort nodded. “I will.”
The restlessness of the motherfuckers in the room and on the screen prompted Christopher to call Diesel, but it went straight to voicemail.
Christopher leaned into the microphone. “Bishop?” he called, crooking his finger at the motherfucker.
Bishop stood and started forward, but the opening door halted him.
Diesel walked in, along with Kendall and Brooks, so Christopher held up his hand and halted Bishop. Brooks looked on the verge of fucking tears, which didn’t fucking bode well.
“If it isn’t the fainting pussy,” Cleaner said as Brooks stumbled toward the podium. “And Johnnie’s wife.”
Bash glanced over his shoulder and did a doubletake. When Kendall’s arrival dawned on him, he straightened and smiled broadly.
“Gorgeous!”
“What the fuck are you doing here, Kendall?” Johnnie demanded, drawing attention to her more than Bash’s pleased greeting did.
Ignoring Johnnie, Kendall halted next to Bash as he got to his feet and hugged her. He whispered something to her and she smiled, then kissed his cheek and sailed towardChristopher, wrapped in a mantle of cool dignity.
Diesel paused next to Christopher, his back to everyone. “We have a situation, Uncle Christopher,” he whispered.
“Got anything to do with why the fuck Brooks here?”
“Yes, sir.”
Fuck.
Christopher hadn’t expected Kendall after she’d been so distraught that he hadn’t even told her about the fucking meeting. But she’d drafted the contracts, so he was happy to see her. Brooks, though?
Hewasa fainting pussy, who would hamper what needed to be done.
Kendall set her briefcase on the buffet table, most recently used for Diesel’s gifts. Brooks was standing next to her, talking frantically. Obviously, he was upsetting her.
“Get Brooks the fuck away from her, Diesel,” Christopher instructed.
Diesel nodded, calmly walked to Brooks and snatched him by his collar, dragging him away from Kendall. Mort saw, ordered Bowlie to his feet and grabbed the chair. Once he placed it in front of the podium, Diesel shoved Brooks down.
A sob escaped Brooks.
“If you make one motherfuckin’ sound, Ima choke the fuck outta you,” Christopher said.
“I can always shoot him, Prez,” Mort said, revealing his holstered gun.
“I don’t care about Brooks,” Bash said. “I want to know what’s wrong with Kendall.”
“My question, too,” Johnnie said, always and forever a braindead fuckhead.
“You sure about that?” Val asked, frowning. “You see the woman upset and you not even getting up to check on her.”
“It’s Charlotte,” Diesel told Christopher. “And it’s fucking bad.”
