Page 262 of Remiss
“By not fuckin’ doin’ shit like that again. You got a problem with CJ, take it the fuck out on him. Leave innocent girls alone. Then, just try to do fuckin’ better. Think about what the fuck you do and consider all sides. Respect and fairness everything, Ryan. It’s the only fuckin’ way you can look yourself in the mirror cuz of all the other shit we fuckin’ do.”
A knock came on the door.
“Come the fuck in.”
Mortician walked in, followed by Val and Rory, who was almost chomping at the fucking bit. They glanced at Ryan, then looked at Christopher.
“Prez, we got a situation,” Mort started.
“It’s Molly,” Rory blurted before Mort continued. “Bash brought her back.”
In the ensuing silence, disbelief hit Ryan, immediately followed by fear. He was afraid to hope Rory told the truth.
Rory dug in his pocket and produced a key. His mouth moved. Through the whirring in his head, Ryan heard Rory recite the details—information given by Bash—as if he were in a tunnel.
Dread filled Ryan’s gut. He knew Bash and Cleaner. He knew the games they played. Willard and Wally, too. It was how they’d jerked Ryan along since his fateful decision.
Uncle Christopher frowned. “Dead Molly?”
“You never knew for sure, though,” Ryan said, his anxiety rising. “You just suspected because you couldn’t find her.”
His cold gaze veered between Rory and Ryan several times. It took everything in Ryan not to slide to the floor and hide from those probing eyes without a shred of warmth. Or friendliness. Or even compassion.
“How the fuck you get the key, Rory?” he demanded, though Ryan had just told him almost everything.
Rory flushed.
“Johnnie still fucking with Bash?”
Ryan knew he was, but that wasn’t the case here.
“No, Uncle Christopher!” Rory squeaked. “I swear. It…Mom…she might’ve asked…” His face crumpled. “No one betrayed you,” he whispered. “I swear.”
Sweat beaded Ryan’s brow and he shifted in his seat, more afraid now than when he’d confessed to Uncle Christopher and at that time he’d almost pissed himself. But he couldn’t continue to live with all this guilt. For Molly and Harley. He’d felt lighter, but not completely free because he still had to unfuck what he’d done to Harley, Mattie, and Rebel.
Holding Rory’s gaze captive with his, Uncle Christopher pulled out his cellphone and pressed a few numbers, then sat it on the table.
“Is everything okay?” Stretch asked, bypassing a normal greeting.
“How long it take you to tap into a fuckin’ camera?”
“It depends on if the place is on the grid and if they have working cameras.”
“Rory, get CJ here,” he ordered, not immediately responding to Stretch. “Mort, call Diesel. Tell him to arm up. Make sure he bring Bishop. Val, find Potter, Narci, Huck,Torrin, Zephyr, and Pike. Stretch, Bash gave Rory a fuckin’ key. Supposedly for Molly Harris.” He gave Rory the once over again.
“It might be a fuckin’ set up,” Uncle Christopherwent on. “We could walk in that motherfucker and they blow us the fuck up. Pull any fuckin’ footage you fuckin’ can. Even if you can’t seeher, try to find out if they’re lurkin’. Or, fuck,loiteredlong enough to plant bombs.”
“I-I’ll go in,” Ryan volunteered, suddenly inspired. “As long as we leave now. If she’s there, Bash might change his mind and take her back.” That was the truth, but it would also get the heat off Rory—and himself. Obviously, Uncle Christopher thought they were working together. “Bash probablyiswatching. His ideas change with his mood swings. If we take too long, we might never see her again. We don’t have time to waste, so I volunteer.”
Panic entered Pops’ eyes. “That’s commendable, boy, but you not even armed.”
“As much as I want to fuck you up, I ain’t puttin’ you at risk, Ryan,” Uncle Christopher gritted.
“Outlaw?” Pops said, fear in his eyes. “What…?” Swallowing, he looked at Ryan. “What did you do, boy?”
So fucking much. Ryan didn’t even know where to begin.
“Ain’t got time to explain right now, Val,” Uncle Christopher said.
