Page 133 of Remorseless
“What you got in mind?”
“Either the week before her birthday or the week after, we celebrate at the club. For her actual birthday, I can’t decide between a destination birthday or a ball.”
“What the fuck’s a destination birthday?”
“It’s like a destination wedding. We pick a spot somewhere in the world and plan her birthday bash there. I was thinking Fiji. Georgie also offered her private island. I wanted your input.”
“You know Rule turning sixteen, too.”
She sniffed. “He’s a boy.”
“Unless you fuckin’ know somethin’ my ass don’t, CJ got a cock, too. You gave him a birthday party for his sixteenth. Ryan had one.”
“I don’t know what to do for Rule,” she admitted.
“Fair efuckinuff. I’m gonna talk to him and we’ll decide from there.”
“Okay.” She was silent and then, “For CJ’s seventeenth birthday, let’s buy him a Harley.”
On the one hand, the words elated Christopher. On the other hand, Megan’s sad resignation clenched his insides.
He considered how best to proceed. “I was thinkin’ a Duck, then get him the Harley as a highschool graduation present,” he said, making shit up on the fly. “Ducks ain’t no bitch ass ride, baby.”
“I know, Christopher, but, please, talk to him first. You can’t join the club without a Harley. He might take receiving a Ducati the wrong way.” Her words were soft and sweet, holding no censure, just her usual honesty that kept him the fuck in line. “He adores you. Wants to do everything you do. I think in his mind the first motorcycle he owns will be a Harley. Just like yours was.”
“I wish motherfuckers didn’t look at my boy and think he’s the next me. I want motherfuckers to look at him for him.”
“That’s a losing battle because it will never happen. He’s your son and already has almost as much swagger as you.”
“He do, don’t he?” Christopher puffed up in pride.
What the fuck was wrong with his fucking ass? Megan was fucking right. He himself had called CJ his mini-fucking-me for so fucking long, he’d almost indoctrinated motherfuckers with that idea.
“No matter what you do, there will always be expectations of him to be the next you. He’ll always be my potato, though.”
Christopher winced. If she found out Ember LeBan blew CJ, Megan would order her tongue ripped out. They’d touched on the subject a couple of days ago and he left it hanging. “The lil’ motherfucker almost seventeen. By the time I was that fuckin’ age, I was already fuckin’.”
Lifting her head, she glared at him. “CJ is not ready for any physical relationship.”
He frowned. “Says you. I think his cock might disafuckingree, Megan.”
“I’m not talking about that part of him,” she grouched, narrowing her too blue eyes. “I’m talking emotionally.”
“What the fuck you talkin’ about? Stickin’ his cock in a bitch ain’t got nothin’ to do with emotion.”
“I hope he stays a virgin until his wedding night.”
He stared at her for a moment, searching for a hint that she was fucking with him, but nope. His woman was dead-fucking-serious. Unable to stop himself, he guffawed.
“Omigod, you big ass! Shut up.”
Her words only made him laugh harder. She sat up in bed, arms folded, and glowered at him hard enough to make his motherfucking ass explode.
He sat up too and pulled her into his arms.
“I always thought he and Harley would marry. Now, I hope she falls to the middle of the earth, never to be heard from again.”
Her ruthlessness—the same kind as Big Joe and Snake—was showing again.
