Page 76 of Remiss
“You have one. Tio.”
Puffing his cigarette and releasing the smoke, Bash smiled and his eyes crinkled. “He’s a fucking psycho. Nothing but a killer. He doesn’t have planning skills to save his fucking life. He’s not a fucking leader. You need a motherfucking brain. You need charisma. And you need to be a good strategist. Like you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, I’m not taking you as my heir. You’d be fucking dead before I got the words out. If not at Cleaner or Tio’s hands, then another motherfucker. You aren’t well liked around here. You’re so fucking cocksure.” Bash nodded. “You’re brave and fairer than me or Daddy would ever want to be.”
“So what are you saying?”
“You make me think, boy. Cleaner hates you for it. He much prefers the other me.”
“I noticed.”
Bash smiled and finished his cigarette. “I’m going to let her go, but she’s coming with us whenever we all ride out to Hortensia for Kendall’s meeting.”
“When will that be?”
“In a couple of days.”
“Bash…Molly won’t last a couple more days. One of the wounds is infected. She needs medical attention.”
“Let her go, Easton. Do you really think she’ll be okay if she survives? Her dying will be a gift. Allowing her to live would be tragic.”
“I moved her to my room,” Easton said, desperation creeping into him. If Randolph left and returned with medicine, his life would be in danger since Bash felt she was better off dead. “I couldn’t live with myself if she died—”
“You didn’t shoot her. I did. I’m not losing sleep over it.”
Eastoncouldn’twith Bash. One minute, he was hysterical and vulnerable, and the next he was back to being a psychopath.
“Do you know what I want for you most of all, Easton?”
“Me in a fucking mental institution?”
“You as a Death Dweller.”
“What?”
“Not as a spy. As a real true brother. Under Christopher’s tutelage.”
“That’ll never happen. You sent me there to fuck his wife. He doesn’t trust me.”
“There’s no way for that to happen, but it’s what I would like. Every motherfucker has dreams for his cumsquirts.”
“I’m so fucking touched.”
Scratching his jaw, Bash snickered. “I don’t know what I want to do with Meggie anymore,” he admitted, growing serious once more. “I want to talk to Kendall first. I want…” He shrugged. “She’d never go for a motherfucker like me.”
If she went for Johnnie, she’d go for anyone. Easton cleared his throat, then pulled out his phone and went to his music app. “Listen to this.” He foundAlwaysby Atlantic Starr. After Bash listened with avid interest, he playedSecret Loversby the same band.
“Bitches like that?”
“They do.”
“Do you think Kendall will?”
“Or something similar. Most women like romantic songs.”
Bash’s eyes widened. “Cunts consider it romantic when motherfuckers fuck other motherfuckers even though they belong to another motherfucker?”
