Page 243 of Misrule
“Why the fuck—?”
“Why?” Johnnie interrupted before Christopher got his full question out. “Because she spoofed my goddamn phone number and showed Kendall phony fucking texts. Not only that, Stretch found a to-do list to get to Megan and kill her!”
“What the fuck you said?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Johnnie snapped. “Emily’s games ledmy wifeto try to take her life.Yourfucking games.”
Annoyance rose in Christopher and a sense of anger that he hadn’t gotten his hands-on Emily. “Back the fuck up, John Boy. I don’t know why the fuck you so fuckin’ furious at my ass. I ain’t got a fuckin’ thing to apologize to neither of you motherfuckers for. Kendall got you fuckin’ shot. Knocked the fuck out. Maybe, ifyourfuckin’ ass knew how to handle her,myfuckin’ ass wouldna had to step the fuck in.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Johnnie spat.
“Nope. Even if you think my ass need to apologize for your woman tryna kill herself, I ain’t agreein’, so fuck you. You follow club rules. You stay the fuck outta club business if you not a member. You leave my woman in peace. You keep your fuckin’ hands off lil’ kids. Or you fuckin’ die. Case fuckin’ closed. That shit not new to you or your bitch, Johnnie.”
He drew himself up. For a moment, sadness replaced the anger, then he stiffened and glared at Christopher. “Leave,” he ordered again. “We don’t want you here.”
“Have it your fuckin’ way, motherfucker,” Christopher said, heading out. At the door, he stopped. “Ain’t botherin’ to threaten neither of you motherfuckers no more. All the fuck I can say is if Kendall fuck up a-fuckin-gain,run.”
With that, he walked away, not telling them if it ever came to that they had better hope, he never,everfucking found them. If there ever was a next time, justice would be swift and decisive.
After summoning the members to emergency church, Christopher headed to the clubhouse. Johnnie’s presence surprised Christopher. He wondered if Johnnie was there to resign from the club, given his self-righteous indignation. Krag, Talbot, Webster, and Pete were there and that was the important thing.
“Ain’t keepin’ you motherfuckers long,” Christopher started after calling the meeting to order. “Any assfuck I choose to guard my woman got the fuckin’ right to decline. If you ain’t likin’ the position, you gonna make her miserable and that ain’t ever gonna fuckin’ fly.” He walked from behind the podium, and went to the table where those four motherfuckers sat. “I picked you motherfuckers cuz y’all old-timers. Knew Big Joe. Boss loved the fuck outta Megan, so I thought it woulda been a honor.”
Krag gave Christopher a half-smile. “We enjoy every moment we spend with your precious wife, Outlaw.”
Webster, Talbot, and Pete sniggered. Slipper wasn’t known to lie, but just the subtle hint of arrogance from the soon-to-be maggot chips told Christopher of the man’s truthfulness.
“Fuck, Prez,” Digger grumbled. “I got my good jeans on.”
“Is there a problem, Outlaw?” Krag asked calmly.
“Nope,” Christopher answered, drawing his nine with the hollows. “Not no more, motherfucker.”
He shot all four motherfuckers in the head, unaffected at the gushes of blood, or the ensuing silence. Sticking his gun back into the inside pocket of his cut, Christopher lit a cigarette and took a few puffs before he walked back to the podium, ignoring Digger’s scowl.
“When I come to you to watch my woman, de-fuckin-cide if you like livin’ with your brain in your head or outside the motherfucker.”
“You not surviving if you don’t have a brain in your head, Outlaw,” Digger protested.
“You sure, fool?” Mortician called. “You’ve done fine without one in your fucking head all these goddamn years.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Digger said, flipping the room at large off at all the laughter rising up.
“Get the dead motherfuckers outta here,” Christopher ordered.
“Where you want us to put them?” Val asked.
“Wherever the fuck you make those motherfuckers fit.”
“I got a new solution I want to try to see how effective it is to dissolve bodies,” Mortician said, lighting his own cigarette.
“You can use one of them for your experiment,” Johnnie added. “We had all our tools ready for Knox and never got to use them. I was a little disappointed.”
“In that case, John Boy, your ass welcome to move the motherfuckers,” Digger said. “I won’t get my good jeans ruined.”
“We got four dead motherfuckers,” Christopher said. “You four assfucks each move a body.”
“All we need is barrels rolled in here if we do it my way,” Mortician explained. “Stuff the motherfuckers in there, then roll the barrels to the meatshack. We don’t even have to bring them inside.”
