Page 200 of Ruptured
“I miss him.”
“I know. I do, too.”
Meggie took a step toward the bed, so she could hug Rebel. Comfort her in some kind of way.
“I’m tired,” Rebel said, still not facing her. “I want to rest.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll check on you a little later. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Hurting for her daughter and wishing she could take her pain away, Meggie gripped the banister and slowly ascended the stairs to the third floor. CJ’s door was closed. She raised her hand to knock.
Lowering her hand, Meggie backed away from CJ’s door and continued to her bedroom. Immediately, she knew Christopher wasn’t there. She didn’t feel his presence. Suspecting his location, she limped to the back staircase, which had been added years after the original build, because the house was endless and the main staircase now seemed so far away.
On the second floor, she headed to Rule’s room, hating the oppressive silence. Bunny insisted on taking Gunner.
Axel, Ransom, and Ryder were home, but the house still felt empty and overwhelmingly lonely. Rule wasn’t there. When someone left under the best circumstances, there was an adjustment.
She pushed open Rule’s half-open door and found Christopher nursing a bottle of rum, sitting on their son’s bed, his back against the headboard. Meggie crawled on the other side of the bed and leaned her head against his shoulder. He didn’t hug her back. He’d walked into her hospital room furious, and swept her with a look of accusation. But she was home. They could properly hash out their—her—failure of Rule and comfort each other.
“You were right, Christopher.”
He snorted. Sipped his drink.
“What do you want me to say?”
“What the fuck can you say, Megan? What canIsay?”
“That you listened to me and I miscalculated. I didn’t think Rule was so—”
“You was too fucking busy worryin’ about who CJ might be fuckin’ and gettin’ Rebel on birth control.” He moved away from her and got to his feet. “It almost cost you and her your fuckin’ lives.”
“I’m so, so sorry, Christopher.”
“You failed him, Megan.”
“I didn’t mean to. I—”
“You fuckin’ what? You here all the fuckin’ time. You saw signs more than me.Youthe one who told me. What the fuck you did? Allowed him to have more fuckin’ bibles.”
“He wants to be a priest. I thought I was supporting him.”
“How many fuckin’ bibles one fuckin’ kid need?”
“He bought his own with his allowance. I didn’t want to discourage him.”
Christopher threw his bottle against the wall, spattering liquor and glass. Covering her head, Meggie screamed. Dragging her up, he shook her, then dropped her back on the mattress.
“He ain’t fit to be a motherfuckin’ priest,” he roared. “He take the worst fuckin’ passages and twist them the fuck around.” He started pacing, pointing at her, accusation burning in his gaze. “You ain’t give a fuck, huh, baby? He was a motherfuckin’ burden to you, so you ignored him.”
“That isn’t true!”
He snatched one of Rule’s bibles from his desk and flung it. “At least be fuckin’ honest. You was fuckin’ determined to wait. You said it would be easier on Rule and the kids. No, it was easier onyou.”
“You could’ve overruled me,” she cried. “You’re his father. You had authority.”
“I fuckin’ left it up toyou.”
