Page 223 of Misrule
So, fuck, yeah, hearing her respond to him was a step in the right fucking direction.
“We been home for fuckin’ hours, baby. You been hunched the fuck up in those covers, pretendin’ your fuckin’ ears plugged the fuck up with wax or something. Just ignorin’ the fuck outta me.”
“What do you want?”
Christopher sighed. It was the middle of the goddamn night, but fuck if he’d been able to sleep. He knew she’d been awake, too. Nightmares didn’t plague them as much lately. Still, he kept a close watch on her, waiting for her to tell him the truth about how far along she was in her pregnancy.
Unless she was carrying five or ten little motherfuckers, he saw the size of her belly. Maybe, she thought by not confessing how far along she really was, she could save that incompetent motherfucker’s life. One in two thousand dick snips failed, or some shit like that. It had to do with cock plumbing reconnecting.Still, that didn’t matter. Shouldn’t the doctor-motherfucker have known Christopher had a working dick again to save not only his fucking money but his fucking pain?
“Christopher?”
Once she told him she was either delivering another fucking tribe of kids or she was further along than she’d admitted, he’d tellhershe didn’t have to worry about the doctor. He was already fucked up and grounded. At the moment, he’d address the matter-at-hand. “First of fuckin’ all, it would be quite fuckin’ helpful if you fuckin’ told my ass why the fuck you a pissed lil’ motherfucker.”
“You know why.”
He had an inkling, but he didn’t want to admit that. “Cuz of Diesel and CJ.”
“Partly. Diesel is too young to be having sex and CJ is definitely too young to be spying on someone to tell you they are being intimate.”
“Fuck, baby. Diesel got a cock. Whatcha expect him to do with the motherfucker? He gotta use it.”
“To urinate,” she yelled.
“What? Urinate? Ain’t no fuckin’ kid of mine urinatin’, Megan. Urinate! A real cock don’t fuckin’ urinate. The motherfuckerpiss.Don’t ever fuckin’ put the word urinate in a sentence when you referrin’ to any man in this fuckin’ house.”
“There’s only one man in this house,” she countered.
“Fuck, baby, then change man to motherfucker. Don’t use urinate and penis about no motherfucker in this house.”
“Omigodddd, Christopher,” she groaned. “You’re so insane.”
He smiled at the back of her head, knowing she was softening toward him. Encouraged, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into the spoon position. She held herself stiffer than a mummy, but what the fuck ever.
He nosed her hair. “Don’t be mad at my ass, Megan.”
She stayed silent for a moment, then she sighed. “How could you hire Emily to go with Johnnie?”
And there the fuck it was. The real fucking basis for her anger. Megan had always figured shit out. While Johnniefeltas if meeting Emily was too much of a coincidence, Meganknewit.
“Do you know what that’ll do to Kendall?” she whispered. “That’ll devastate her. It’ll kill her.”
Quite the fucking point.
Megan stiffened a little more, almost fucking impossible considering how mummified she’d been before.
“That’s the point, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice sad and watery. “You want her so overcome that she’ll kill herself.”
He closed his eyes, hating the pain in her tone. Hating even more that he’d caused it. “I hate Kendall, Megan. She ain’t no good. She got you took from me.” He clenched his jaw. “I fuckin’ hate that bitch. I’ll never, ever fuckin’ forgive her.”
“She got me back,” she argued. “You promised me you wouldn’t kill her.”
“If she fuck her-fuckin-self up, my assain’tkillin’ her,” he snapped.
Megan elbowed his chest as hard as she could. “You’re splitting hairs. You’d be directly responsible for her death.”
“Fuck, Megan, I’m so fuckin’ tired of that bitch dominatin’ our conversations. Most of our fuckin’ arguments cuz of her. Most of me and Johnnie arguments cuz of her, too.”
“Do you realize what you say to Kendall in front of Johnnie?”
