Page 245 of Misrule
Outlaw stepped forward and snatched the Glock away from Alexia. Once he emptied it of bullets, he slammed it against Johnnie’s chest.
“I ain’t allowin’ you to mar this fuckin’ dinner with fuckin’ brains and blood all over the fuckin’ place.”
“Yeah, Johnnie,” Digger said, waving Bunny over, having chosen his spot. “That would delay dinner and I’m hungry.”
“You stay fucking hungry,” Mortician complained.
“What do you meandelaydinner, Digger?” Carissa called. “That would’ve ruined the shit. Personally, I couldn’t eat nothing if I saw a bitch killed.”
Outlaw’s whistle stopped the arguing. “E-fuckin-nuff. Let’s sit the fuck down, so dinner can fuckin’ start.” He pointed to the musicians who were aghast. “If one of you motherfuckers play the fuckin’ bullshit I fuckin’ know you intendin’ to play, Ima break your fuckin’ fingers.”
“Omigod, Christopher!”
Meggie had healed completely and Axel, now three months old, had another week, at most, to stay in the hospital before he was released. He was small for his age, but hadn’t been harmed during the trauma of his birth.
“Hal!” Joan cried. “Do something.”
Outlaw crooked his finger at Meggie. Once she got to her seat and sat, he slid her forward.
“Knox, come and see your groom cake,” Outlaw demanded.
Knox’s eyes widened. “You got me a groom cake?”
“My ass the bride family. Ain’t I’m supposed to do that?”
“Don’t worry, Mort,” Digger said. “I got you covered.”
Outlaw searched the room.
“The cakes are in the kitchen,” Joan said tightly.
“Bring them motherfuckers outhere. What the fuck good they doin’ in the goddamn kitchen?”
“So no one would see them,” Joan snapped.
“The whole point of a fucking groom cake is for the shit to be seenbeforegetting cut,” Pearllene said.
Digger pointed at her. “What she said.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Joan cried. “Do any of you have class?” She drew herself up and glared at Pearllene. “How old are you, madame?”
Laughing nervously, Roxy rushed forward as Pearllene growled, “old enough to say what the fuck I want.”
“Let me help you to your seat, Momma,” Roxy said, grabbing her mother’s arm and turning her toward a chair.
“This the table you’re sitting at, huh, baby?” Pearllene asked.
“Of course,” Roxy declared, squeezing her mother’s shoulder.
“The cakes are on the way,” Hal announced as he returned to the salon. He placed his hand at the small of Joan’s back and guided her to the same table that Pearllene sat at.
By the time everybody had seated themselves, two members of the kitchen staff each wheeled in a silver cart, containing cakes. Before Roxy had a chance to see Knox’s, he and Outlaw blocked her view by standing in front of the cart.
Just as Mortician’s cake registered with Roxy, Carissa nudged her girlfriend, Liza, and screamed with laughter. “We know who the chocolate dick cake for!” she howled.
“Did you have to make the motherfucker squirt cum?” Roxy asked, torn between amusement and annoyance.
Joan threw stares of death to them, her dress and jewelry understated compared to the ostentatious display of wealth—lost wealth—Charlotte displayed.
