Page 185 of Remorseless
Ignoring Mortician, Johnnie, and Easton, she stormed to the three men.
“Fuck, Megan, get back here,” Johnnie ordered.
“Bite me,” she yelled. “Where’s Bishop?” she demanded, once she reached Narci, Potter, and Torrin.
They had a week’s growth of beard, their hair was unkempt, their clothes dirty and torn, and they stank to high heaven, reeking of pee, poop, sweat, and musk.
“Hey, Meggie,” Narci said.
And bad breath.
“Bishop?” she demanded again, aware of Mortician’s presence at her side.
“Bishop!” Potter called.
She folded her arms and waited. Counted to twenty. Forty. Sixty. One hundred. Finally, the weeds rustled, and Bishop emerged, in as bad a shape as the other three.
He was CJ’s friend. Christopher was still hunting Bishop, though she’d told her husband she didn’t want the guy to diehadn’t stopped him.
She crooked her finger at Bishop. “C’mere.”
Like a man condemned, he walked slowly to her. “I’m so sorry, Meggie. I never meant to disrespect you.”
“Tell that lie to someone who’ll believe it,” she said coolly. “That person isn’t me.”
He hung his head. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted toward you. I’m sorry for the rumors I believed. I don’t want to die. I don’twant to be out bad.”
Instead of answering, she looked at Potter. “Where’s your bike?”
He nodded in the direction he’d come. “Back there. In the apple orchard.”
“Get it. Meet us here by the time we’re ready to leave.”
“It’ll take me ten or fifteen minutes to get to it and another two minutes to ride back because of all the overgrowth.”
“Then hope I’m still here. Otherwise, you have to arrive at the club alone and take your chances.”
“I didn’t do nothing, Meggie,” Potter said quietly.
“You’re absolutely right,” she replied. “You didn’t call me or Christopher. You didn’t tell Mortician what was going on when he walked in.”
“I wasn’t thinking—”
“I suggest you start. First, you sponsored creeps who raped my niece and intended to assault my daughter. Now, you’re associated in a situation that almost cost me my son.” Tears rushed to her eyes and she swallowed, reminding herself CJ survived, was home, and would be fine. “I don’t care what Christopher or the club decides, you have one more infraction to commit against my children or my nieces and nephews, and I’ll see to it that you disappear and not even a chunk of you will be found. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Potter.” She swiped at a renegade tear. “You’re all idiots. I love my husband, but I’ve spent my life fearing for him. Afraid I’d lose him. Then, I had to let my oldest son go. I thought Diesel would focus on his law career. The closer CJ got to eighteen, the more I braced myself to let him go, too.” Her lips trembling, she glanced away, refusing to rehash the pain of that plan gone awry. She sniffled. “Do you know the clubhouse was breached twice? Not long after I arrived and, again, when CJ was two.What if it happens again? Only this time not only will my husband be in the line of fire, not only Diesel, but every one of my sons, except Gunner. I can lose them all at once in an instant. And you idiots put CJ at risk? Men who are supposed to be on his side? And you expect me not to feel anything? Smile and say everything’s fine? I think not. I don’t want your apologies. I don’t want your explanations. I want you to act like you have sense, find your testicles, and protect my children. If I can’t save them, I’m not interested in saving anyone else. Now, get your bike and hope I’m interested in waiting for you.”
Hands in pockets and head hung, Potter loped away.
“I’m Diesel’s friend, Meggie,” Torrin started.
She glared at him. “Are you searching for special privileges?”
“No, but I wasn’t there,” he cried. “Neither was Bishop. We wouldn’t have let CJ drink that shit.”
“I don’t believe you. You all suffer pack mentality with a pecking order. CJ was at the bottom—”
