“Yes. I…never mind,” she said softly, drawing her knees up and resting her cheek on them, her golden hair falling all around her, a study in beauty and tragedy. “Their stupidity is inconsequential. Even the way I miss how the club once was isn’t important. Gypsy’s dead and I’m feeling sorry for myself because of my own carelessness and because last night almost felt like old times there.”
“Nothin’,fuck all, inconsequential about you, Megan. Not your feelins, your thoughts, or your pain. You grievin’ for your friend. I’m so fuckin’ sorry she dead, but life gotta go on—”
“You wouldn’t say that if it was me—”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“It very easily could’ve been. Or Kendall. Or Zoann. Or Bunny. Or any of us. It could’ve been Rebel or Mattie or Harley. Would life go on then, Christopher?”
“For Derby and everybody else? Yeah.”
Tears spiked her lashes. “She was my friend, killed because of her association to us, not because of anything Derby did. She shouldn’t have gotten killed in cold blood.”
“What the fuck you want me to say, baby? I’m so fuckin’ sorry she gone. That’s the fuckin’ truth, but I’m glad it was her and not you. Bitsy, Fee, Kendall, Bunny…any of them dyin’ would’ve been a fuckin’ tragedy. I would’ve mourned them, but as long as it ain’t you, I can survive. Wally, Jr. dead, Megan. Mort killed that motherfucker.”
“I know,” she said thickly. “Has Derby told you any of the plans?”
“No. Ima call him today and let you know as soon as I find out.”
“I have to get downstairs to start breakfast.”
She’d given Bishop the day off so he’d enjoy Diesel’s party.
“We goin’ to the club today?”
It was Sunday, the day of the week Christopher, Megan, and their children spent at the club. They’d be there from noon until late evening. She usually cooked with the help of some of the other old ladies. She socialized with the women and the brothers, while their kids did the same with the children of the members. Christopher would be in and out of his office, also socializing, clearing up small disputes, setting the week’s schedule.
“Is Diesel’s party over?” she asked.
She was right. There was the odd Sunday when parties spilled over from the night before and kids and old ladies were still off limits.
“I ain’t too sure. I need to go to the club and make a few calls, then go over Stretch’s budget for Church, so I’ll see what the fuck’s up.”
She finally straightened. “Okay. Just let me know,” she said, turning to get out of bed.
He grabbed her elbow. “Why don’t you keep lookin’ for your pills, baby? I’m sure they’ll turn up. Maybe they’re in your fuckin’ closet.”
She nodded. “Maybe,” she said morosely and slid out of bed, scampering into the bathroom.
The moment the shower began, he hurried out of bed, rushed to his closet and dressed, then fished her pills out of his cut. After scribbling a quick, ‘I love you,’ on a sheet of paper and leaving it on her pillow, he went to her office and laid both packet of pills in the middle drawer.
Satisfied, he drew in a deep breath and headed to the club.
Meggie searched everywhere in the bedroom that she could think of, even under the bed. She used the flashlight on her phone to check under the sofa. She checked the refrigerator and the entertainment cabinet. In the bathroom, she rifled through drawers, in cabinets, around the bathtub, under the sofa. She did the same in her closet, searching through her many purses, trying to remember the ones she’d used in the past few days.
Her lingering doubt that Christopher was responsible also sent her to his closet. She checked his bureau drawers and even went through the pockets of his old cuts. It would’ve annoyed him, butshewas annoyed with herself,if she had been so careless. With him, if he’d stolen her pills.
She pretended her frantic search wasn’t a smokescreen to hide how upset she was over Rebel. Watching her daughter wrestle with her emotions before walking out of Diesel’s party upset Meggie. But Christopher advised her against running after her and drawing even more attention. He reminded her it was Diesel’s birthday party, and he was almost certain their son would toast CJ’s handling of Nardo.
That hadn’t happened. Meggie had gotten distracted by Ryder and Ransom, taking turns to dance with her and tell her jokes. Then she’d helped the other women clean up. Whatever mess was made after the family cleared out would be up to the club girls to handle.
Most of the official Dweller girls were older and generally stayed away from Diesel’s parties. They’d shown their faces, offered birthday wishes, and left, unable to co-exist with the younger women slowly taking their places at the free-for-alls.
Nyx had been a thorn in Meggie’s side, but she was realizing Nyx wasn’t the only one who thought their word was law. Heidi was fast moving into that position.
Meggie didn’t like most of the new girls. Tennysee was about the only one she could tolerate, but she hung with Tauriel and Fia. She couldn’t imagine what any of them would do if they got their hands on Rebel’s videos. They’doverlook Harley and Mattie involvement. But Rebel?
Ryan needed beating every hour of every day for the rest of his miserable life.
