“She don’t have a way back to the trailer,” Kaia said.
Diesel snorted.
“That ain’t my fuckin’ problem or yours,” Christopher said coldly.
Kaia looked toward the door, then back at Christopher. “Don’t tell Rebel. Please?”
One of those bitches giggled.
Not caring who, Christopher grabbed the one closest to him by the throat, ready to choke her out. It was Heidi, a cunt slightly less vicious than Nyx had been but still not nice. He didn’t have a clue where the fuck Diesel and his motherfuckers found these young brutal bitches that would cause more problems than give pleasure. Back in the day, truly terrible bitches cropped up. But one replaced the other. They weren’t dealing with them all at the same fucking time. Or, fuck, most of them had been better at hiding their bullshit. They’d been better cooks and housekeepers, too.
“Listen up, cunt. I suspect your fuckin’ ass giggled. Ain’t givin’ a good fuck. You open your motherfuckin’ mouth to my daughter, I will cut your fuckin’ head off. Underfuckinstand?”
Her shoulders shaking as she began to cry, she nodded. He shoved her away.
“I suggest you put that fuckin’ word out,” Christopher warned. “All fuckin’ bitches, get the fuck outnow.”
They left. Kaia stood in the same spot he’d been in since he saw Christopher and froze.
“See you, fuckhead? You playin’ with fuckin’ fire. I ain’t tellin’ Rebel. I understand you a motherfucker with needs. But the position you puttin’ me in? My relationship with her fucked up enough. My woman grievin’ and stressed and tryna hold shit together. I gotta fuckin’ tell her you fucked one of Rebel’s biggest hatersagain. If Megan tell me to fuck that bitch up, she dead. Remember that when you bringin’ flowers to her fuckin’ funeral.”
Kaia’s chin trembled.
“Get the fuck out.”
His shoulders slumping, he turned just as Bishop staggered from the back, another naked, hungover motherfucker.
“Cover your fuckin’ cock and get home now, motherfucker,” Christopher roared, wishing he’d stayed home to deal with his own fuckery.
Not asking questions, Bishop rushed away.
“Kaia?” Christopher called before he walked outside.
“Sir?”
“I suggest you turn that fuckin’ boohooey frown upside fuckin’ down and smile until your fuckin’ face hurt.”
“Okay,” he said miserably and left.
Walking to Narci, Christopher snatched his ponytail and banged his head against the bar, knocking him the fuck out, then moving aside so he could hit the goddamnfloor.
He was the fucking dealer, sohewas the motherfucker who gave Diesel the fucking drugs.
Christopher stepped between Torrin and Diesel. “Jana a fuckin’ addict, yeah? A fuckin’currentaddict, not a past one who fell off the fuckin’ bandwagon, yeah?”
Diesel glanced away.
“No wonder you so fuckin’ determined to marry her. You turned her onto drugs.”
“I didn’t, Uncle Christopher. She was already one when we met.”
“Then she turned you onto drugs?”
Diesel shook his head. “Club life started me done that path. Tabitha finished it.”
That fucking motherfucking bitch.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Christopher,” Diesel said.
