Page 142 of Restless
“Let me take Rory and Ryan home,” Val said, sighing.
He looked crushed, a feeling Mort identified with because of Harley. Suddenly, he realized his hypocrisy. He was judging Val for Ryan’s behavior when his own child was acting in a similar matter.
No wonder the club was turning into a fucking warzone. Nobody wanted to see their own flaws and, instead, pointed the finger at everyone else.
“I’ll come back with the van.”
Rory considered Ryan. “Can I hang at your place, Ry? I don’t want to deal with my parents right now.”
Nostrils flaring, Ryan nodded, then walked down the rickety steps. At his mother’s Cherokee, he started to open the door then stopped.
Rory looked at Mortician.
“Go ahead, little dude,” he encouraged.
“I’m only doing this for you, Uncle Val,” Rory admitted.
Val smiled sadly. “Don’t matter, boy. The fact that you’re doing it at all shows the type of motherfucker you are since Ryan don’t like you.”
“Ryan likes no one, Uncle,” Rory said. “He doesn’t even like himself. Once he does, the rest of us might have a chance.”
“Call Johnnie, Rory,” Mortician said. “We here now, so he can’t hold us up with bullshit. You call him and clue him in.”
“Won’t he be mad you didn’t call him, Uncle Mort?”
Digger sucked his teeth. “Motherfucker stay mad, little bruh,” he said, stealing the words Mort intended to say. “We can handle him.”
“Yeah, boy, if you call him, he’ll see you’re on his side,” Val added.
“Fine,” Rory said with another sigh. He started down the steps. “Although there shouldn’t be sides, Uncle Val.”
“We’re going to clear out most of the brothers, Mort,” Val said once Rory was at the Jeep. “They’ve collected the clothes and cleaned up the blood as much as possible. When I get back, we’ll remove her body. I need to know what to do with her.”
“Take her to the funeral home,” Mort instructed. “On the way to the club, you call Johnnie, too. Tell him to bring his special shit. We need to wipe fingerprints. CJ and Ryan been here several times. They won’t have a body or blood evidence, but motherfucker can always accuse them of taking his woman and daughter.”
“What do you think we dealing with, Mort?” Digger asked.
“Much more than a fucking deputy,” Mort responded.
“Fuck!” A muscle ticked in Digger’s jaw. “Now what?”
“Let Meggie get home and settled in,” Val suggested. “Then we tell Outlaw. I just hope…Goddamn.” He closed his eyes. “I hope Ryan on the right side of this. I love that little ungrateful motherfucker and, fuck, Puff…if something happens to Ryan, Puff would never recover.”
“You have to get him in hand, bruh,” Digger said.
“I just…I never wanted my boys to suffer the same abuse I did,” Val admitted. “Devon is a good kid. He likes to hang out with me and his momma. Somewhere along the way, I lost Ryan.”
That was true. Just as Mort had lost Harley somewhere along the way.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Val said. On the sidewalk, he turned. “Mort, you need to ride to Nevada City. I’ll explain the details when I return. I’ll just say Stretch informed me a bit ago that a motherfucker hasn’t settled his bill with us. He needs a visit.”
“I’ll head out when I’m done,” Mort said. Time on the road might be just what he needed to clear his head.
Wondering if he should feel any guilt because he wasn’t home watching over his mother, Rory pulled a bowl of fat green grapes from Aunt Zoann’s refrigerator. He hadn’t eaten a thing today, and his stomach growled in anticipation of the fruit. Smiling, he snatched two out of the bunch and popped them into his mouth. He turned and met Devon’s startled gaze.
“What are you doing here, Ro?”
Rory sat the bowl on the center island. Uncle Val and Aunt Zoann’s entire house consisted of natural log cuts, though in the kitchen it was a combination of light and dark wood. Sometimes, he marveled at how different each house was, although he rarely visited the log cabin since he fucking hated Ryan. “I can ask you the same thing, Dev.” He popped another grape into his mouth. “Why are you here?”
