Page 179 of Misrule
“Christopher.” Hope rang in Johnnie’s voice after Mortician’s speech. “I swear if she ever endangers your family again, I’ll kill her myself.”
Outlaw snorted. “That’ll be the fuckin’ day you fuckin’ grow your balls back. Since that bitch chewed them the fuck off and swallowed them motherfuckers, never to be fuckin’ seen a-fuckin-again, you ain’t ever goin’ to fuckin’ kill her.”
“Damn, Prez.”
“Jesus, Christopher.”
Outlaw smiled again and stared at Emily. “Ain’t layin’ a finger on Kendall,” he announced, never taking his gaze off her. “If that cunt end up buried ain’t gonna be cuz I fuckin’ killed her.”
He smirked at Emily and Johnnie, then turned on his heel. “Come on, Mort. Let’s fuckin’ ride.”
Mortician shook his head, then glanced at Johnnie, pulling on his riding gloves. “Kendall so fucked,” he sighed, and walked out, leaving Emily alone with Johnnie.
He faced her and they stared at each other. He had vulnerability written all over him.ThisJohnnie she could handle.
“I’m so sorry to have hurt Kendall,” she lied, hoping Kendall never found a reason to tell Johnnie about their last run-in. Of course, Emily could always set up another lunch date and bury the hatchet. Right in her back. “Please, forgive me. Don’t let what happened when we were children get in the way of our attraction.”
“There’s no attraction to you,” he growled.
Sure, asshole.
If he didn’t want to fuck her, why else would he still be there?
“From what I gather, I remind you of some woman.”
“It’s bad enough you fucked over Kendall. Don’t bring Megan into this.”
“You need someone to listen to you, Johnnie. Hearyou. It sounds as if you haven’t had that for a very long time.” She patted the spot next to her. “I’m a very good listener. Let’s order pizza and drink a few beers while we get to know each other.”
He considered her for a moment, then closed his eyes.
“No strings attached,” she interjected, determined to sway the battle he waged in her favor. His eyes popped open.
“Fuck you.No!” He glared at her, then stalked out, slamming the door behind him.
His dismissal infuriated Emily, but her hands were tied for now. All wasn’t lost. For a moment he’d considered her offer, then changed his mind. After his smarmy begging on behalf of Kendall, Emily supposed his mind remained on that bitch.
Chapter Forty-Four
Leaning against his bike, Christopher handed the binoculars to Mortician, lit a cigarette, sucked on it, then released the smoke. Sunbursts broke through the March sky, where layers of reds, oranges, and pinks painted dusk with an artist’s palette.
He sniggered at the pussified analogy, dragged on his cigarette again, then puffed out, hoping life was getting back to normal. Megan was pregnant again. Kendall would soon be dead. And the club had a very profitable gun-running deal on the horizon with Knox’s contact if things continued to go smoothly.
“Amfinger not doing a lot, Outlaw,” Mortician informed him as if he’d heard Christopher’s thoughts. “We saw the guns at the warehouse last night. They just like he promised. All the motherfucker doing at this shitty motel is leaving and coming back with food. If you taking the deal, this look legit.”
Christopher ignored Mort’s grouchiness. The motherfucker wanted to be with Bailey, who was fucking devastated over Roxanne. Last night, right after Christopher shared the news that he was going to be a father again, Mort told him that Bailey had just found out she was pregnant, too. Christopher knew that shit made girls emotional.
Joyner Amfingerdidseem on the up-and-fucking-up. Riley did a detailed background check on the motherfucker. Amfinger came up for arms dealing, which was to be expected. That’s what the motherfucker had contacted Knox for. Joyner had had legitimate contracts, the kind sanctioned by governments, so Christopher didn’t understand why the motherfucker had contactedKnoxto sell weapons to the club.
Shit just didn’t feel right. And, yet…the motherfucker was coming up as being who the fuck he said he was. He also had a warehouse full of merchandise. So what the fuck was the problem? Why was Christopher questioning his instinct when he rarely had before?
He didn’t have to question his fucking uncertainty. It all went the fuck back to Megan.Hisfucking decisions could meanherlife. He’d always known that shit but…Disgust hit him. What the fuck was wrong with him?
Scowling, he snatched the binoculars from Mort’s hands. The man Christopher identified as Joyner leaned on the railing, his mannerisms relaxed. The Joyner motherfucker reminded Christopher of Johnny Bravo, with hair sticking straight the fuck up and tight clothes.
“We riding out today or we staying another day, Prez?”
“Ain’t sure yet. I think we seein’ what the fuck we need to see.” He sucked on his cigarette again. “I ain’t wantin’ to be gone too fuckin’ much longer.”
