Page 151 of Misrule
“This is personal shit, boys. This is between Knox and me. It’s not your business,” she added, because nothing she said seemed to matter. She rushed to Knox again as Mortician bent and started to toss Knox over his shoulder.
“Not our business?” Outlaw lifted her again, set her down, and then blocked her way. “What the fuck that mean?”
“Yeah, Rox,” Digger added, “me and Mort fucked up our own old man. The club helped us get him and that was fucking personal.”
“The fuck it was,” Outlaw said in a hard voice.Harder, since he’d been sounding pretty fucking cold for the last several minutes.
“Prez, for you it wasn’t,” Digger responded. “For me and Mort? Yeah. If Sharper didn’t come in our momma we wouldn’t been born. That make it personal as a motherfucker.”
Snickering at the discussion of cum and mothers, Mortician started down the steps, a limp Knox thrown over his shoulder. Roxy didn’t know if he’d passed out or if Mortician had knocked him out.
“John Boy,” Mortician called, the words floating over his shoulder, “stay with Roxanne, while we work on Knox in the meatshack.”
“No, no, no!” Roxy cried, starting down the steps to stop this death march.
Johnnie blocked her, allowing Mortician to continue on, with Outlaw, Digger and Val behind him. Only one way she could stop them.
Later, when Knox was safe, she’d send him away. Only a drastic reversal would sway her to marry him, so this was a temporary fix to save his life.
“Stop them, Johnnie. I love Knox. We just had a misunderstanding.” She heaved in air. “I still intend to marry him.”
Johnnie’s eyes widened. He studied her a moment, so she nodded, to reaffirm her statement.
“Fuck,” he growled, and turned on his heel. “Call Meggie,” he ordered, then took off running.
“This can’t be right,” Meggie mumbled, using the syringe to suck up pee from the cup, then squeezing drips out onto the stick. Sitting on the toilet, she put the timer on her FitBit, ignored the other pregnancy tests that told the tale, and waited.
Days ago, she’d told Doc Will that she needed to see her—the night of Meggie’s fight with Kendall—but she hadn’t gotten around to it. A visit was imperative now.
She kept putting off her visit to Doc Will, but she could no longer do so.
The urge to vomit had awakened her early this morning, so she’d rushed to the bathroom and gave into the nausea demon.
She hadn’t been feeling well for a few days. Since the fight, she’d been dragging.
On so many levels, that confrontation had just devastated Meggie. She’d taken up for Kendall,against her own beloved CJ,and that witch still put her hands on her child. Even when she said she wouldn’t, Meggie had given Kendall chance after chance. For every reaction Kendall had, Meggie had felt an action had precipitated it.
But Kendall would never change. She didn’t take her illness serious. She didn’t take her family into consideration. And she didn’t look toward the future. All in all, she was so poisoned with hatred that it would take drastic actions for Kendall to change.
That realization, too, had devastated Meggie. Then the news of Roxy and Knox’s break-up had taken precedence and Meggie had set her hurt over Kendall aside. On the days she hadn’t felt well, she’d chalked it up to stress and worry.
This morning, after vomiting, she’d rinsed her mouth and washed her face, then stumbled back to the room and climbed into bed. Christopher was gone, and she’d been too sick and tired to inquire about his whereabouts.
A few minutes later, he’d called her and asked if she wanted breakfast in bed or if she was coming downstairs. Not wanting to worry him, she said she’d be down in a few minutes and then hung up.
As she laid in bed, trying to will the nausea away, she’d realized that this was the third time this week she’d thrown up in the morning.
For her, that meant one thing. Yet, it was impossible. Christopher had his vasectomy reversal, a month ago, and they’d resumed making love two weeks lagter.
Hysterical laughter escaped Meggie. That meant she’d gotten pregnantbefore.
It was history repeating itself, only with a flipped script. When he’d gotten the vasectomy, she’d found out she was pregnant. Now…now…this.
If it wasn’t so…so…frustrating, it would be hilarious.
After forcing herself to dress and go downstairs, she’d put on a brave face, until Christopher went to the clubhouse. Then, she’d texted Bunny to go to the drugstore and buy pregnancy tests. Three or four different types. She’d returned with six.
And every last one of them came back positive.
