Page 158 of Rebellious

“What you want to do and what you should do two different things. You want to stay with Johnnie but you know you should kick that fuckhead to the curb.”

“I’m the adulterer,” she said, sobbing softly. “How can I stay with him?”

“Because you love him,” Mortician told her. “We did wrong but we can’t undo it. You beating yourself up only adding to your heartache.”

“I just want somebody to love me. Johnnie,” she admitted. “But I’ve always searched for love and acceptance. First from my mother, but she didn’t consider me at all. At least, I’m second in Johnnie’s life.”

“You deserve to be first.”

“It never mattered before and I wish his behavior didn’t hurt me so deeply. I wish we hadn’t been so vulnerable and lonely that we just needed comfort.”

“Kendall—”

“How can I stay with him after he hurt you so bad? What kind of a friend does that make me? No! What kind of a stupid bitch am I to even want Johnnie to be the man I married when he’s done so much?”

“You not stupid, Kendall. You a good woman. And you strong yourself. You got a way of compartmentalizing. Tucking away shit better left buried and focusing on what you need to do.”

“Should I do that now?”

“You tell me. If guilt’s going to bring you down, then tell Johnnie and I’ll tell Bailey. It has to be both of us confessing or neither one of us. We fucked up enough. We can’t tell one and then let the other one find out by accident. They deserve better than that.”

She wouldn’t open her mouth, if only to save Mort’s marriage. If it was salvageable.

Mort sat on the edge of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. “Two things can be true. I regret betraying Bailey but I don’t regret it was with you. I regret the position that I put you in but I don’t regret our friendship. Not before and not after. Even though I’m probably headed for fucking divorce too, that’s no fucking excuse, because I still got a wife. But you right. I was so fucking hurt and angry. Alone.”. He looked back at her. “We always been able to talk about anything. That has to change for now. I can’t talk about Bailey to you and you can’t complain about Johnnie to me. We lost that right to share that information with each other. Until…until…” He shrugged. “One day.”

“I understand,” she said softly.

“Now I got a question for you.”

“What?”

“Why the fuck you left my goddamn house and thought it was a good idea to walk the fuck home?”

She opened her mouth to explain, tried to conjure her thought process when she awakened, but she didn’t remember leaving, walking through the forest, or laying under a tree. As Mortician said, their lovemaking went in and out of her consciousness, until she didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. She was still a horrible liar and dirty cheat, but not remembering helped ease her turmoil. It allowed her to not look at Mortician any differently.

She sat up and reached her hand out. Straightening, Mortician gave her a sad smile, then grabbed her hand, squeezed it, and kissed the back of it.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead. “You got it, baby,” he said, and then he was gone.

Later that evening, Johnnie walked into the club, pleased with his plans, which he’d put into effect Friday. He didn’t think it was her week to bring the kids to school, but in case it was, he planned to tell Kendall they needed to talk before she left for the office. He’d imply she’d risk her access to the kids if she refused him.

He’d take her for a drive—straight to their charter flight. On the way there, he’d shoot her up and sedate her. The next couple of days would be busy for him. He’d have to get all their luggage, especially her medicines, to his contact, so it would be on the plane when they boarded.

“Bring me a beer, Potter,” he called, nodding to a few of his friends as he passed the bar and headed to the table. He glanced around, searching for signs of Megan, or any of the women, but only seeing club girls.

“You ran Megan off again, Christopher?” Johnnie asked and smirked at Mortician, ignoring Christopher and Diesel’s glowers. “How’s Bailey?”

Mortician growled, hatred blazing in his eyes.

Johnnie flipped him off. “That’s how I feel about you with my wife, so fuck you.” Dropping into his seat just as Potter brought him beer, he took a deep swallow. “Why is everyone so gloomy?”

“Where the fuck you been?” Christopher demanded.

“A personal trip. The same kind my lovely wife took.”

Val shook his head. “You need to stop competing with the woman, fuckhead. You breaking Kendall, Johnnie, and that’s not fucking cool.”