Page 142 of Misrule
“Can’t harm a fuckin’ demon, Megan. You just exorcise that motherfucker away.”
“If you kill Kendall, you’ll ruin Roxy and Bailey’s wedding plans.”
“If that bitch die, that don’t mean a fuckin’ thing. Added to all the other fuckin’ shit that happened on our fuckin’ church weddin’ day was Val gettin’ shot. Did that fuckin’ stopourfuckin’ ceremony?”
Chugging his beer and lighting a cigarette, he got to his feet. “It’s gonna be dark soon. Let’s fuckin’ roll out.”
Huffing out a breath, Meggie grabbed her pants and pulled them on. “Leave Kendall alone,” she ordered, shoving a foot into her sock in a jerky motion. “Leave her marriage alone. Let her and Johnnie figure things out.”
“What the fuck ever.”
“Promise me,” she insisted.
He stared at her, then released a puff of smoke. “Yeah, Megan,” he said, then glared at her, turned on his heel, and stomped to his bike, where he mounted up and started the engine.
Glowering at her stubborn husband, she finished putting her shoes and socks on, then stood. After gathering their mess and grabbing the blanket, she went to Christopher. She stuffed the trash in one of the saddlebags, folded the blanket, and put it away, too.
Once she’d climbed into her seat and he started off, Meggie deflated. It didn’t escape her that Christopher hadn’t actually given his word about Kendall. Therefore, whatever happened, he wouldn’t have broken the promise Meggie demanded.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Wearing safety glasses, Christopher walked amongst the tables in one of the club’s warehouses, studying each plant carefully. Even though he’d relegated the day-to-day care of the grows to Slipper and Potter, club members handpicked by Christopher, he still felt as if the hydrogrows were his own personal pet project. At least once a week he visited to make sure the right amount of light from each lamp shone on the plants at the perfect angle. He checked the moisture, looking for any signs that a plant needed to be thrown the fuck out. The clones were thriving in the soil he’d mixed with coco and perlite. Still, he was usingsoil, which meant he had to watch for fungus, bugs, and rot.
The grow house was where he’d first made his own money. Big Joe had allowed him to experiment. The club sent out weed to sell. But Christopher hadn’t liked the middleman—paying a grower to supply such a big money maker for them. He couldn’t trust the ingredients either. The only thing Big Joe made him promise was he’d not give up if the venture wasn’t successful the first time around.
“Fail once, try again,” Boss said, a fatherly hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “Don’t just give up. You can do this. I have confidence in you, boy.”
Boss had confidence in him that Christopher himself wasn’t feeling. Still, he nodded. “What the fuck I do if I fail a second time?”
“Try a third,” Boss said instantly, as if he’d expected the question.
“I ain’t gonna keep tryin’ somethin’ that don’t get no traction, Boss.”
Boss dropped his hand from Christopher’s shoulder and lit a cigarette, all the while studying him with those too-blue eyes. “Three times, Christopher,” he said around a puff of smoke. “Try three times. If it doesn’t work, then at least you would’ve tried your damnedest.”
Since Boss was fronting the money, Christopher conceded to the man’s demand. It wasn’t so bad anyway. He was only asking Christopher not to be a fucking loser that gave the fuck up at the first sign of hardship. He stiffened his backbone, prepared to put his all into this project. “I ain’t gonna fail, Big Joe,” he swore with conviction.
Boss smiled. “I know, son. I’d trust you with my life, my money, my family. You’re loyal, dedicated, and a hard worker.” He puffed on his cigarette again. “Come on. Let’s find some pussy to celebrate your new venture.”
The memory running through Christopher’s mind sent a pang of nostalgia through him. Not for random pussy. No. He couldn’t imagine sinking into no other cunt but Megan’s. She was everything he needed.
It was Big Joe that made him so wistful. Christopher had fathered most of the man’s grandchildren—except Snake and Hopper’s son, Randolph—and married Boss’s baby girl. As a result, her life had been put in danger too many fucking times to count. Would Boss still feel the same way about Christopher with that type of statistic? He’d once told Christopher he wouldn’t want him with Megan anyway. That was before Christopher had even known her name. It had been easy for him to brush off the comments.
Was it any wonder Boss felt as he had? Megan had gottenkidnappedand almost died in a fucking hole-in-the-ground.
Maybe, Boss would’ve killed him for his negligence. Or took Megan away from Christopher. Presumably, Boss would’ve still been club president, so Christopher would’ve had to obey or die.
Even if Boss had still been alive, Christopher knew what he would’ve chosen.Death. He loved her that much. If she ever decided to leave him, he’d step the fuck aside and let her walk away. Just as he’d told her in the forest, his goal in life was to make her happy and keep her safe. But, fuck, he wouldn’t survive long without her. She held his heart and soul in the palm of her hands. Big Joe “Boss” Foy’s baby girl completely owned Christopher.
Up or down, wherever Boss might be, Christopher knew he was ridiculing the fuck out of him that he was so pussified.
The ringing phone snapped Christopher out of his thoughts. It was Megan’s ring, so he answered immediately. He swore his fucking toes hadjustun-fucking-curled after her cock suck this morning.
“’Law.”
CJ’s voice startled Christopher. Not because his boy didn’t call him from time-to-time. It was just that his thoughts had been all about Megan.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, boy?”
