Page 229 of Remiss
“Suit yourself.”
Mortician returned to his seat, looking forward to snatching that fuckhead later and cutting his fucking tongue out. He’d just watch him bleed to death.
Fuck, too easy. He’d figure it out.
“Uh.” Doreen looked hesitantly at her dead man walking. “Are you…are you…the Death Dwellers? Part of the club?”
He nodded.
She began wringing her hands. “He, uh, Ned has been drinking.”
“Not much since I don’t smell alcohol on him,” Mortician replied.
“Stop talking to this motherfucker like he matter, Doreen.”
“But—”
Apparently, Doreen had heard of the club, but her motherfucker hadn’t. Or, maybe, he had and was tired of living, so he found a quick fucking way to die.
Dead Ned jerked Doreen away.
“Come back here, motherfucker!” Verna yelled, moving faster than Mort had ever seen and hustling toward the door. “You didn’t pay for your fucking food—”
“I got it,” Mort called, ignoring the customers looking at Verna.
She was the fucking reason Mort hadn’t been able to scoop that motherfucker up then. Symphony kept shit moving. With Verna, the place was fucking packed because she dragged her fucking feet.
Still, he couldn’t have her calling the cops and ruining his fucking fun.
Standing, Mort pulled out two hondos and placed them in Verna’s hand, then nodded to Harley. “Come on, baby.”
He’d taken one of the club’s vans because he hadn’t known if Harley had worn slacks with her uniform or a skirt. Outside, clouds covered the setting sun.
Harley scuttled to the van, silent and subdued. She didn’t talk during the entire ride back to the clubhouse.
“CJ waiting for me,” he said, once he’d parked the van and he and Harley stood outside the entrance. “Want to come in and say hi?”
“No, Daddy.” Unbidden, she hugged him and laid her head against his chest. “I love you.”
Mort kissed her cheek. “I love you too, baby girl. Come in for just a minute, then I’ll walk you to Zoann’s.”
“It’s okay. I need the time alone.” She gave him one last hug and walked away.
Mort watched her until she used her keycard to enter the private gate and she disappeared around the curve of the forest trail.
He didn’t have a lot of time to spend with CJ, so he hoped the kid didn’t have anything heavy to talk to him about.
The usual motherfuckers were there, and a flash of wistfulness hit Mort. Not too long ago, the usual motherfuckers included men he’d come up in the club with. Motherfuckers he’d met in the club. Now, most of the old-timers were dividedbecause of Johnnie and the young motherfuckers were closer to Diesel.
CJ sat at Outlaw’s table with Grant, Ryan, and Rory. The moment CJ spotted Mort, he waved.
“Hey, kid,” Mort greeted, offering Grant a two-fingered salute and nodding to Rory and Ryan. “I don’t have a lot of time, so—”
“Uncle Mort, I think Nardo is fucking with Harley and I need you to show me what to do in the meatshack,” CJ blurted, shocking the fuck out of Mort. “That motherfucker won’t live long enough to star in his goddamn play.”
The other three didn’t seemed surprised at CJ’s words. Mort dropped heavily into his seat, thought back to Harley’s behavior at Tee’s, remembering how Grant and Mattie showed up at the house out of the blue.
“That’s what you and Mattie came to talk to me about, huh, Grant?” Mort whispered. “Last Monday.”
