Page 72 of Remorseless
Before Marion responded, more pounding resounded on his door and a chill slithered down his spine. He swallowed.
“We know you’re in there, Joe.”
“Fuck off!” Joe screamed, spittle flying in all directions. Wiping his arms over his wet lips, he turned toward the door on unsteady legs. “Get the fuck away, Cee Cee.”
“Open this motherfucking door, Joseph!” Cee Cee growled. “Before I go and kill that cunt.”
Joe took one step, stumbled and tumbled to the floor. He farted, then began to cry. “Meggie,” he sobbed. “How can I protect her, Cee Cee?”
Since this Cee Cee person remained outside, he hadn’t heard the question. Pitying his old friend,Marion tipped toward the door, never too careful. When he opened it, the man who brushed past him had silvery black hair, cold green eyes, and jingling spurs on his motorcycle boots. But it was the other man, who followed Cee Cee in, that had Marion gaping.
Sharper Banks.
He almost knelt in fealty. He’d heard the great man sermonize.
Awed, Marion stumbled back, then turned to trail behind his idol, forgetting to shut the door.
“Fuck, Joe!” Cee Cee grumbled, helping Joe to a pew.
Marion realized Cee Cee wore a cut, too. As much as he disdained bikers, Marion only searched for the emblems ofoneclub. He dismissed all other patches.
“My girl, Cee Cee,” Joe said pitifully. The will was nowhere to be seen. “I can’t…she took her from me.”
“You don’t see them much anyway. What the fuck’s the problem?” Cee Cee demanded.
“My daughter! She’s at an age where she needs her daddy. She’s so fucking adorable. I need to be there to make sure motherfuckers aren’t fucking over her. She’s funny. She loves to dance like me. She’s a—”
“Fucking paragon,” Reverend Banks sneered, shocking Marion. “She’s a fucking split-tail! Good for one fucking thing. A cock down her throat and up her ass.”
Marion stood in speechless horror, his admiration murdered by words. Joe jumped to his feet and punched Sharper with such force, he flew back, then drew his weapon and pointed it at Sharper’s head.
“Fuck!” Cee Cee snarled, knocking Joe’s hand away. Instead of hitting the minister, the bullet penetrated the wall. A punch to the side of Joe’s head knocked him out.
Without hesitation, Cee Cee drew his gun, too, and pointed it toward the open front door just as adark-skinned man with dreadlocks rushed in, holding a sawed-off.
Before he got his bearings, Cee Cee fired, hitting the man’s shoulder and forcing him to drop the gun.
“Don’t fucking move, Osti, or I will shoot the fuck out of you.”
Osti raised his hands, though pain wrinkled his brow.
“Sharper, you stupid motherfucker, stand the fuck up, before I fuck you up,” Cee Cee ordered.
Groaning, Sharper staggered to his feet, holding his jaw.
“What did you fucking do to him?”
Sharper opened his mouth.
“Shut the fuck up. I should fucking kill you. You’re shooting him up again. Didn’t I tell you motherfuckers to leave him the fuck alone?”
Guilt crossed the minister’s face. After so many years of idolizing this man, to discover he was nothing more than a thug, crushed Marion. Were there no good people left?
“I wasn’t expecting you to come to LA, Cee Cee.”
“Obviously.”
“Whyareyou—”
