Page 214 of Remorseless
Panic crossed Rebel’s face. “I only brought lipstick. Lipgloss. Er, lipstick?” She yanked her backpack from her shoulder. “I don’t remember. Can we go back home? I can get my makeup kit and stuff in…no, I’ll need a bigger purse.”
“You’re fine. Just take deep breaths. Walk in there with your head held high and with the knowledge that you’re gorgeous.”
“What did you do for your first date?”
Her first real date had been with Johnnie. He’d taken her out to dinner. Meggie cleared her throat, keeping her explanation simple. “Remember I told you my first date happened after I turned eighteen?”
Her kids just didn’t know who took her on her first date. They always assumed it was their daddy.
“I don’t remember if you said you were nervous.”
She’d been too heartbroken. She hadn’t known if she’d ever see Christopher again. “I wasn’t. Your granddaddy’s words helped to ground me most times.”
Rebel nodded. Neither one of them needed to go into detail. Over the years, Meggie repeated Big Joe’s mantra often enough.
Before Rebel found another stalling tactic, Meggie pressed a button on the side of the door, then gave the thumbs up signal. Normally, Christopher handed her out when she was dressed up.
Another thought she shoved aside as she allowed Oz to assist her. Whereas Narci was a full-patch member with the build and coloring of a beserker, Oz was still in his probationary period and reminded her of a Roman gladiator. He had massive height, massive muscles, and wide set brown eyes, ringed by thick, dark lashes.
He closed her door before she had a chance to step back, allowing his body to brush hers. “You’re mighty gorgeous tonight, Meggie. Outlaw’s a lucky man.”
“I’d say he was,” Teach agreed, the Probate who helped Rebel out of the sportscar.
Meggie smiled politely. “Thank you.”
“Are you cold, Momma?” Rebel called. “Should we get our coats?”
Her smile pasted on her face, Meggie stepped around Oz, aware of his gaze on her. She hurried to Rebel. “No, love. The clubhouse will be warm. We’ll just say goodbye to your daddy, so I can drop you off at the movies.”
“Okay.”
Rebel stared at the clubhouse door as if it was an enemy. Meggie took her daughter’s hand and tugged her toward it, almost colliding with Oz when he ran ahead of her to open the door.
The silence unnervedheras she walked in. She could only imagine the effect it had on Rebel, who was already a nervous wreck. Nor did it help that the clubhouse was packed with bikers and club girls, celebrating Valentine’sDay. It was like walking a plank, lined with enemies and gawkers. Long ago, Meggie had gotten used to the attention.
Rebel, however? This was her first foray outside of being Christopher’s daughter and CJ’s and Diesel’s sister. She was searching for her own identity, attempting to forge her own future and stand in her own truth. A daunting task when that search was so public.
Meggie’s stiletto sandals made hertaller, but still not as tall as Rebel, especially with her three-inch pumps, yet the extra five inches on her snake wrap sandals helped when she put an arm around her daughter’s waist and guided her to Christopher’s table. Meggie managed to acknowledge her boys. Rule sat at a table with the Terrible Triplets, JJ, Mark JB, Jasper, and Lou, while CJ was at the one next to it with Rory, Devon, Ryan, Bishop, and Grant.
As they approached Christopher’s table, it felt as if every eye was on them. Rebel’s nervousness reminded Meggie that her baby tried to act grown, but was still just a girl.
Diesel’s hostility as he stared at Rebel concerned Meggie, but went unnoticed by Christopher. He was too busy glowering.
“Where the fuckyouthink you goin’?”
“To a movie with Kaia, Daddy—”
“Not you, Reb.” Christopher roared to his feet. He pointed at Meggie. “Her. Your ma.”
Nyx and her cohorts snickered, annoying Meggie even more. They were back to being evil witches. Folding her arms, Meggie lifted a brow at Christopher.
“Out to celebrate Valentine’s Day.”
Any moment she expected her husband to keel over in an apoplectic fit.
“No the fuck you ain’t,” he snapped. “Not fuckin’ lookin’ like you belong on fuckin’ magazine covers and posters. Fuck no! Go out without me, you gotta look regular-some-motherfuckers-get-cockstands-gorgeous,notsmokin’ hotevery-motherfucker-wanna-fuck-me-gorgeous. You ain’t leavin’. Case fuckin’ closed.” He looked at Rebel. “Sorry, baby, you can’t go on your fuckin’ date since your ma stayin’ with me.”
“What? No! Daddy—”
