Page 128 of Remiss
Something that proved to be an exercise in futility. By the time the cars arrived to whisk everyone except Aunt Meggie and Rebel to the airport, Mattie was no closer to having Rebel see that something was wrong with Harley than before.
Sitting at his table in the club, Christopher sipped his beer. He wouldn’t keep thinking about his misery, because at this point, it felt carved into the fabric of his soul. Like each minute without Megan left tiny piercings until he was ripped open, bloody, and broken.
He had to find a way to get through to her. The next time she called, he’d ask to FaceTime her. Just so he could see her face and look into her eyes. See if she had any love left for him.
And if she didn’t? If she wanted him to let her go?
How could he? She wasn’t even giving him a chance to fight for her. He drained one bottle of beer and grabbed another one. Once he opened it, he gulped half the contents.
He’d said he would kidnap her and hold her hostage for a month if she ever tried to leave. That scenario, at this point, would do more harm than good. She’d tied his hands.
“Hey, Prez,” Mort said, walking into the main room from the hallway. He looked tired and haggard. “Want company?”
Christopher shrugged. “How’s motherfuckin’ Digger?”
“Awake. In pain.” Mort grabbed a beer, opened it and then sat. “I’m going to get the money for you first thing tomorrow.”
“End of day tomorrow is fine.”
Mort nodded. “Thank you, Prez,” he said quietly. “For not killing him.”
“Only cuz of you, Mort,” Christopher admitted and drained this bottle of beer, before grabbing another one. “Ain’t too sure if I still want him as SAA after we passed all this Bash bullshit. Johnnie definitely ain’t gonna stay VP.”
“I understand.”
“I want you as VP when the dust settles.” Christopher ran his hand along the condensation on the bottle, ignoring Mort’s shock. “If I’m still Prez. Or even wanna be. If Megan leave me…” He couldn’t face the heartache and pain the mere thought brought him. How could he survive actually losing her? “If I ain’t Prez no more, I want you to run. You’ll do the club proud.”
“Outlaw—”
“You don’t have to accept if you don’t want to.”
“I’m so fucking honored you have that much faith in me, but if you don’t stay Prez, I’m not running either. We’re more progressive than other clubs, but I’m not interested in the fucking pushback some of Johnnie’s faction would give me.”
Christopher opened the beer and took a deep swallow. “He ain’t going to be a problem for you, Mort.”
“Unless that motherfucker dead—”
Christopher met Mort’s gaze and lifted his brow.
“You plan to kill him?” As much bullshit as Johnnie handed Mortician, he still choked out the question. “What about Red? You going to kill her, too.”
“I’m going to kill him off-premises, then leave him somewhere so one of his motherfuckers can find him.”
Elbows on the table, Mort covered his face.
“I fucked up so fuckin’ bad with Megan, but Johnnie caused her just as much pain. I let that shit slide. Even when she fuckin’toldme to kill him.” Christopher laughed bitterly. “I ended up fuckin’ up motherfuckin’ Torie anyfuckinway.” A fact he couldn’t get over and still left him in shock. If he’d kill that cunt in the first fuckin’ place, he wouldn’t have broken his Megan’s heart.
Fucking up Torie aftereveryfuckinthingwas stuck in his craw because of how deeply he hurt and disappointed his wife.
Sighing, Mort rested his hands in front of him. “Suppose Meggie come back to you?”
“I feel like I can’t fuckin’ breathe, Mort. I need my woman. I want her. I keep imaginin’ her walkin’ in, sayin’ she forgive me. That’s all I fuckin’ want.”
“She comin’ back, Outlaw. But if you want Johnnie dead, you have to kill him before. Or you have to get her input. If he on her No-Kill List then—”
“Then I’ll find de Leon’s fuckin’ Fountain of Youth and bathe that motherfucker in it.”
Mort smiled.
