Page 62 of Restless
Burying his hands in her hair, Daddy twisted and dragged her to her feet. “If you ever hurt my little Johnnie, I’ll throw Cee Cee’s whelp in the trashcan and cover it tightly, then make your death excruciating.” He shoved her away and started for the door.
“Then we’re even, Daddy. If you ever hurt my Christopher, you’ll find your little Johnnie floating in the Columbia. I’ll tell Cee Ceeyoukilled both boys.”
Daddy glared at her and stalked into the house.
For now, she, Fred, and her kids were safe. Although her anger toward Cee Cee burned deep, she knew it was his protection that stayed her father’s hand. She’d still have to keep a vigilant eye. Daddy was even more dangerous when he was angry. Fred was disobeying Cee Cee. And Patricia was caught in the middle.
She loved her father and Cee Cee, though neither deserved nor appreciated her. If she left, not only would Daddy hunt her down and make her suffer the consequences, but she’d miss him.
Christopher’s little face came to mind, and her heart ached. Her sweet boy didn’t deserve Daddy’s abuse or Cee Cee’s abandonment. Her son relied on her to keep him safe. Fred did what he could. He wasFred, though; a weakling caught between two powerful men.
Whether she liked it or not, she might eventually have to gather her children and Fred and run away to keep her Christopher safe.
There was simply no rest for the weary.
Part Two - Sins of the Father
Chapter Eleven
Later that afternoon, Rebel followed Potter off the hospital elevator onto the floor where her mother and little sister were. Usually, she visited Jo before seeing her mom, but earlier CJ texted Rebel and told her Momma had been asking about her and Daddy was in a bad way. Her brother had skipped school today but was now at home working on his science project.
Since she wanted to fuck up Harley and wasn’t happy that Aunt Bailey was giving Harley a major pass for her behavior, Rebel had texted Potter and asked him to pick her up from school to bring her to the hospital. He’d agreed, not that he could decline, if he wasn’t on more important club business.
As Outlaw’s daughter, few things ranked above Rebel’s requests. Dweller brothers milled about the floor, greeting Potter and Rebel as he led her to the locked doors of her mother’s unit. By the time she reached them, Bishop was on his feet and the doors gaped open.
He smiled at her. “Hey, Reb.”
Tall and handsome, he had dusky skin, dark eyes, full lips, and a short Afro. Slipping hair behind her ear, she grinned. “Shop.”
“Yo, Reb, if we wanted to call this motherfucker Shop, that would’ve been the road name we gave him,” his friend, Fuse, said.
Rebel rolled her eyes. Fuse was always fucking with her. “Whatever, asshole.”
The guys snickered, but immediately sobered when they spotted her father walking with Diesel and Tabitha from toward Momma’s room.
Tabitha sailed to Rebel and smiled. “Well, if it isn’t Little Rebel,” she cooed as Diesel and Daddy flanked her.
Gritting her teeth, Rebel ignored the urge to call that bitch a cunt. It would be misinterpreted as lingering hostility and seen as a step backward. While she still wanted to marry Diesel and loved him as no one else ever could, she’d learned her lesson from her mother’s medical crisis. If Momma had died, Rebel wouldn’t have ever forgiven herself. It was what she’d tried to impart to Harley on their ride home.
Diesel kissed Rebel’s cheek and the scent of his cologne went to her head. He was dressed in suit and tie, a hotshot young lawyer from head to toe. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hey, doofus.” Smiling at the guffaws, including Diesel’s, Rebel nodded to Tabitha, then looked at her father. She snapped her brows together. CJ had also alerted her to their father’s condition. Reading a text that Daddy looked like a body just risen from the grave and seeing him couldn’t compare. “Hey, Daddy.”
“Reb.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he yawned. “Bishop, I need another cup of coffee. Megan wanna watch some bitch ass romance and I gotta stay awake.”
“You got it, Prez.”
“No, Bishop!” Rebel cried. “Don’t get him another cup of coffee until he goes to sleep.”
Daddy frowned. “I slept already.”
“An hour, Uncle Chris,” Diesel said on a snort.
“Ain’t needin’ much else. Ain’t never need a lotta sleep.” He yawned again. “Bishop, the coffee.”
“Bishop, if you get him one more fucking cup of coffee, I’m fucking you up,” Rebel snapped. “What the fuck is wrong with you? He looks like the Walking fucking Dead.”
“And if you ain’t gettin’ me coffee,Imafuck you up, Bishop.”
