Page 244 of Misrule
Christopher shrugged. “Whatever the fuck you think best.” He turned to the other brothers, whose expressions ranged from completely fucking terrified to shook-up to indifference. “Meetin’ adjourned,” he announced, then headed to his bike, anxious to see his girl.
“Christopher?”
At Johnnie’s call, Christopher mounted his bike but didn’t start it.
Holding out his hand, Johnnie met Christopher’s gaze. “We’ve been a team our whole lives,” he began. “You’re my family. I can’t just turn away from you and pretend you don’t exist.”
Christopher smiled and slammed his hand into Johnnie’s, then drew him into a bear hug. “I love you, motherfucker.”
“I love you too, you fucking psycho stalker Wildman.”
Chuckling, Christopher started his bike, gave Johnnie a two-finger salute and sped off, acknowledging his relief that he and John Boy had cleared the air.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
After all the drama of the past three months—hateful sons, engagement rings with bad ju-ju, forced living arrangements, secret rendezvous, sadity bitches, low-down bitches, uppity bastards, scheming motherfuckers,stupid motherfuckers,larcenous priests, riding lessons, new tattoos, murder, suicide attempts, new engagement rings, and dangerous pregnancies—it all came down to this. The night before the wedding at the Harrington estate to enjoy the dinner after their rehearsal at Father Wilkins’ church.
Joan and Hal, Knox’s parents, hadn’t made the drive to Hortensia for the practice ceremony. Not that it surprised Roxy, although she knew Knox had been a little disappointed.
News crews and helicopters had dogged them from the clubhouse to the church and then to the mansion. Knox had seemed unfazed, but the attention had made Roxy more than a little nervous. She wasn’t used to such public scrutiny.
The street leading up to the gate where Harrington House was located—Roxy had just found out tonight the motherfucker had a name—had been blocked off with uniformed police officers only allowing residents and guests to the rehearsal dinner in. Because her momma and other two daughters were in town, Knox hired a limousine, so he could enjoy their company without the distraction of driving.
After a meeting, it was decided the entire family would have limousines, and divided the occupants by households—Caldwell, Donovan, Taylor, Banks, Banks, and, of course, Knox and Roxy’s.
Extra staff had been hired to direct the cars on where to turn to make it up the hill to reach the valet area. Butlers in gold and lavender had met them each step of the way as they were guided to the Grande Salon, where a flutist and pianist awaited them. The room was like a scene from a fairytale, where no expense had been spared. Hanging crystal and wisteria dripped from the ceilings. Each table had huge arrangements of white roses, pristine white tablecloths and gleaming crystal.
“We got to sit at different tables?” Val asked before Knox’s parents had a chance to welcome them.
“No the fuck we not,” Pearllene announced, leaning heavily on her cane as she crossed the room. “Come on, Rissa, Lex, let’s fix this shit.”
“Momma—” Roxy started, trying and failing to catch her mother’s hands.
Sniggering as her kin started pulling out chairs, Mortician, Digger, Outlaw, Val, and Johnnie joined them in ruining the setup.
“What are you people doing?” Joan screamed. “Stop this instant before I have you thrown out of my house.”
“Mother,” Knox called, then winked at Roxy, “it’s fine. I happen to agree with them. Come on, Cam.”
Shocked, Roxy watched as her man and his best friend joined the other guys to place the tables together in two rows of two. The beautiful arrangements were placed against one of the walls, out of the way.
“If I’d wanted it this way, I would’ve gotten long, rectangle tables,” Joan huffed.
“Dear, don’t worry yourself,” Hal advised. “Knox wants it this way.”
“Joan, I thought I heard your cry of distress,” Charlotte Redding announced, breezing into the room on Brooks’s arm.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Johnnie demanded. “I thought I told you to stay the fuck away.”
Joan lifted her chin. “Yes, well, considering this is my house, sir, I can invite whoever I want. Charlotte is my friend, therefore, she’s on my guest list.”
Narrowing his eyes, Johnnie drew his gun from his cut. “Not if I shoot the fuck out of her.”
“Johnnie!” Roxy yelled, rushing forward as Brooks jumped in front of his wife.
“Boy, what the fuck is your goddamn problem?” Pearllene demanded, hitting Johnnie on the side of the head with her purse.”
“Give me that shit, motherfucker,” Alexia demanded, yanking the gun from Johnnie’s hand. Her dyed blonde hair was outstanding against her milk chocolate skin.
