Page 152 of Ruptured
“Goddamn it, CJ!” Diesel glared at CJ, drawn from his tasks. “Take your fucking balls in hand and do what the fuck you’re told to do. Personally, I’d bar Rory from the fucking club. If he’s willing to take a beatdown that means he’ll see not being allowed to visit the club as the greater punishment.”
CJ stiffened. “Fuck you! Why did he want me to punch Rory for somethingUncle Johnniedid?”
Diesel snorted and threw aside a wad of bloodstained napkins dripping with a cleaning product. “You’re fucking kidding, aren’t you, little brother? Uncle Christopher thinks Johnnie’s a traitor and sees anyone who helps him as one.”
When Rory gasped as if that just dawned on him, CJ and Ryan led him to the other side of the room and whispered to him.
“Kendall?”
Biting down on her lip to hold in a sob, Kendall sniffled. “Yes, Val?”
“Remember the last time you asked all us motherfuckers to meet you because you had something to say?”
She nodded. Johnnie got shot that time, too.
“Maybe, it’s time you fucking stopped inviting us motherfuckers to the club ‘cause you have some big fucking announcement,” Digger grouched.
The first bit of good advice he’d had in a while. Undoubtedly, a third such encounter would be Johnnie’s final.
Before he allowed Kendall to endanger herself, Christopher would campaign for war against the Scorpions and their affiliates one last time to his members. He’d fucking scrambled to include as many chapters as possible, even if it was only the presidents.
The Scorpions hid behind dozens of shadow clubs across the country, so Christopher didn’t need only the support of the mother chapter and, in this case, national headquarters, but the entire organization. A war meant everyone’s lives were on theline.
Two and a half hours after calling emergency church, Stretch and Val wheeled in four monitors to bring in the clubs viaZoom. It was turning out to be a long fucking night with fucking up Johnnie and storming to his office to calm down because ofCJ.
Once he shoved aside his annoyance, Christopher ordered Mortician to administer extra drugs to Johnnie. Without his fucking influence, Christopher might get enough votes to go to war.
Or, fuck it, move on his own because he was sick to death of motherfucking Bash.
Though Christopher hadn’t seen Hopper in years, he still owed her for helping Megan. No fucking way would he allow Bash to get to her.OrKendall, who was fucking hellbent on meeting with that motherfucker. Fuck, but she was still such a busy fucking bitch. He supposed he was feeding into that, but she made a good ally.
Once the meeting was called to order, Christopher didn’t waste time on pleasantries.
“So, you want war?” Cash asked slowly once Christopher presented the facts as if the motherfucker didn’t understand.
Christopher ground his teeth together. He should’ve fucking drugged Cash, too. Or punched the fuck out of him and knocked him the fuck out.
“We already lost three of our members to them, Outlaw,” Chip said from one of the little monitors on the screen, though every motherfucker heard him loud and clear. “We go to outright war, and we’re risking all of us.”
“Losin’ three fuckin’ members already three too fuckin’ many.” Christopher knew Johnnie had killed two of them because he was a dumb motherfucker. It had been on Bash’s orders to save Rory and Ryan’s lives, butstill. “Losin’onefuckin’ member a reason for war.”
“We have a lot to lose,” Frank insisted, another chapter president, this one from Bossier City, Louisiana. “More than I’m willing to risk. Johnnie and I talked a few days ago. He made a compelling case to sue for peace.”
“Even the possibility of an alliance,” someone added.
“Ain’t no fuckin’ alliance with that motherfucker,” Christopher snapped. “Especially with things as they stand.”
“Johnnie told me how hard war would be,” Frank added.
“This not going to be easy,” Christopher admitted, wishing he’d shot Johnnie’s fucking tongue away so he couldn’t use it to undermine the club. “But we startin’ to look like weak cunts. Bash runnin’ fuckin’ circles around us. Instead of playin’ fuckin’ cat-and-mouse, lets just fuck them up and get it the fuck over with.”
“How do we even know which clubs are aligned with them, Outlaw?” Digger grumbled.
Mortician glowered at his brother. If Christopher didn’t know better, he’d think there was an issue between them.
“I’m with Prez,” Mort said before Christopher figured out what the fuck was up. “I’m fucking sick and tired of motherfucking Bash and the Scorpions. They been fucking with a smaller club, trying to smoke us out.”
“Why not take out the smaller club?” Slipper asked around a belch.
