Page 169 of Misrule
“All these months, I thought you had a fucking brain, but you don’t,” Mortician shot back. “You just proved that by your fucking words, son.”
“I’m giving you credit.”
“No, you giving me bullshit. Exactly what the fuck your brain is made of. You think because I got money, I’m likeyouinstead of ‘them’,” he said, using air quotations. “Money don’t mean shit inourdifferences. You and me will never be alike. You think money put you above every other motherfucker around. I think money helps you to have one less worry in a world filled with fucking worries.”
At a loss and backed into a corner by his own words, Knox thrust a hand through his hair. A groan of pain escaped him.
“Go away, Knox,” Mortician ordered. “I don’t have time for a motherfucker that play games with a woman’s heart. Either you in it just to fuck or you in it to winher, whoever the fuck she might be. You don’t get a girl with prenups and conditions and insults. I also got other fucking things to do than watching my momma-in-law suffer because you a dumb motherfucker. All this shit do is piss me the fuck off.”
“Mortician—” Knox wanted to ask advice on how to win Roxanne back. With the man’s current mood, though, he’d put his life at risk. It didn’t matter that Mortician seemed to know Knox and Roxy hadn’t reconciled. He was looking for any excuse to tear Knox to pieces.
“My ass must be losin’ my fuckin’ touch.” Outlaw’s voice drew Knox out of his reverie. “You walkin’ around too fuckin’ quick.”
Refusing to comment, Knox folded his arms while Outlaw and Mortician sniggered.
“Ready to rock and fuckin’ roll, Mort?”
Mortician stood. “Yeah, Prez.”
As the two men turned to leave, Knox slouched in the chair. He really couldn’t win with them. They took his bonding attempts with antipathy. The few times he’d offered advice, he’d been ignored.
He thought he’d found a common ground with Mortician, whom he would’ve preferred to have in his corner. The one thing that should’ve bonded them—their wealthy backgrounds—seemed not to matter.
A hand landed on his shoulder and Knox glanced behind him. Meeting Outlaw’s gaze, Knox stiffened, then straightened as Mortician reseated himself.
“Everything okay here?” Roxanne asked before anyone spoke.
Having her near reminded Knox that she was worth every injury he had. He wanted to pull her into his arms and…Just like that, an idea hit him, as if lightning struck from Providence. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap, but she didn’t protest. Just as he suspected. Her entire body stiffened, though. He didn’t care. She smelled so good and felt even better. He placed a kiss behind her ear and a small tremor went through her.
“Everything’s fine now that you’re here, sweetheart,” he said gruffly, meaning it.
He shifted underneath her, his hardening dick sweet, sweet agony. “I want you so bad,” he breathed against her ear. “Please, give me one more chance.”
She elbowed him again, then jumped to her feet. Moving out of his reach, she faced him, hands on hips.
“Roxanne, babe, can you bring me some more eggs,” another biker whose name Knox never bothered to learn, called.
She drew in a deep breath, then leveled Knox with one last glower. “Sure, Peaches,” she responded and hurried away.
His heart sinking, Knox watched as she went to the buffet table, grabbed a paper plate and hefted a mountain of eggs onto the styro-foam, then brought it to the table where Peaches sat with another big brute of a man. Knox’s location afforded him full view of her delicious ass.
“Ima meetcha outside, Mort,” Outlaw announced and walked away as Roxanne started a conversation with the two bikers.
For a moment, Mortician stared at Knox, then he rolled his eyes and grabbed a chair. He turned the back toward the table and straddled it.
“She love your dumb ass,” he grumbled. “So if you want her back, you need to straighten the fuck up.”
Knox processed those words, then started. “We’re still—”
“Please, motherfucker,” Mortician interrupted. “Don’t insult my fucking intelligence. Why you think me and Prez came back in here?”
“To kill me?”
“Can’t do that as long as Roxanne think to protect you, motherfucker.”
“Tell me what to do,” he whispered, all pretense gone. “I love her. Please. I’ll do anything.”
Mortician offered him a last glower before sighing and relaxing his shoulders. “Whatever you do to win her back got to be from the heart, Knox. I can give you fucking advice for days, but if the shit not real, it’s going to fall apart anyway.”
