Page 244 of Remiss
“They wanted to kill Meggie, too.”
“She was never supposed to live.”
“She was pregnant, fuckhead,” Kendall yelled.
Bash snapped his brows together, raised his fingers and counted. “Fuck. With CJ?”
“Yes.”
“Well, goddamn. It’s a good thing that little cunt survived. Boys carry on the Caldwell name.” He frowned. “Though those three little psychos should be glued together and hung out to dry.”
“I take it you mean Ryder, Ransom, and Axel.”
“That’s their names? I heard they were called the Trembling Trio or some shit.”
She laughed. “It’s the Terrible Triplets.”
“Psychos,” he insisted.
“As opposed to you, Cee Cee, and Christopher?”
Bash puffed out his chest. “Caldwell genes. You know you’re a Caldwell?”
“I’m well aware.”
“Why don’t you have that name?”
“Johnnie was raised as a Donovan.”
“When he discovered the truth, he should’ve changed it to Caldwell.”
“Claiming one degenerate over another?”
“Caldwells are worlds above Donovans.EspeciallyLogan Donovan.”
“I can’t argue with you there.”
Through the window, she saw Johnnie staring in her direction. Val was leaning against the wall, drumming his fingers. Mortician sat on the sofa, tense and angry. As long as Bash was willing to talk, she’d ask questions but she’d get to the bottom of whatever the fuck Johnnie did to hurt him.
“Do you know a woman named Marion?” she asked, diving back into it.
“Nope, but I know a motherfucker named Marion. Well, I don’t know him personally. Big Joe knew him.”
“Why would they give someone the road name of Marion?”
“His road name is Jazzman.”
She jerked as if he’d shot her, and her eyes widened. “You’re fucking kidding? Father Wilkins is namedMarion?”
“Yep. Why? What role doesheplay in this twisted tale? I thought I was onto something, but his rectory burned down before I could search it.”
Fuck her. She didn’t want to get the priest killed. “I saw the name Marion on a sticky note in one of the files.” She could lie with a straight face. “I thought she was someone’s mother.”
“It’s possible there’s another Marion. As you said, we stick our cocks everywhere.” He gave her a boyish grin. “I wouldn’t mind sticking my cock in you. I bet your cunt tastes delicious. I’ll lick it raw, then come hard and deep in you. I’ve rarelywantedto pleasure a woman,” he breathed, “but I do with you.”
“Uh, th-thank you,” she said, completely disarmed once again. Psychopaths were notoriously charming.
If he’d veered just a little more toward the middle, he could’ve easily lived the type of lives Johnnie, Christopher, Mortician, and Val did. Certainly, their criminal activities left them morally bankrupt. Yet, even then, there were shades. Theirsouls weren’t completely blackened—dark gray. Tarnished. But not black.
