Page 271 of Ruptured
She wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“Who beat him? Mort or Diesel?”
She cleared her throat. “Rebel.”
Christopher’s eyes flared in surprise.
“Digger gave himself away because he’s an idiot.”
“You know how bad that motherfucker was beat, Megan?”
“I was right there. I watched her do it. Only Diesel could yank her off him. Bishop and Kaia tried.”
Christopher didn’t like the sound of that. “Diesel not stronger than those two motherfuckers. Rebel just more pliant withthatmotherfucker.”
“I didn’t think of that,” Megan admitted, sighing. “I’m glad knives weren’t within reach. She might’ve stabbed him. If Diesel hadn’t been there, she might’ve kicked Digger in the head and knocked him senseless. Or killed him. I don’t want that for her.”
“I don’t either,” Christopher grouched. “Besides, that’s Mort’s job.”
“That’s a negative, Christopher. This is hard enough on Mortician. If Digger has to die, Diesel will do the job.”
“Fuck, you want that motherfucker gruesomely fucked up.”
“Frankly, I don’t care, but Mortician does. He loves Digger. I’ve thought long and hard about this while I was with Rebel.” She told him about all the words that had flown about. “Mortician has protected Digger since they were small children. It’s as natural as breathing. It’s his handicap, but we can’t penalize him and cast him into a life of pain, guilt, and grief.”
“Something gotta happen and it sure the fuck ain’t rewardin’ that motherfucker’s bad behavior.”
“Mortician offered me a million dollars and I refused it. It wasn’t his debt to pay.”
Just in time, Christopher remembered the hell he’d lived the past few days for screaming at Megan like a mean dickhead. “That’s the money Mortician will use to build Bunny’s house.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Christopher drew in deep breaths, trying to calm himself. It didn’t work. “Lemme get this motherfuckin’ straight,” he snarled. “Digger stole the motherfuckin’ money? He been actin’ like a mean assfuck to you?”
She opened her mouth.
“Worse than my motherfuckin’ assandon the regular,” he added. “You turned Mort’s money down, let Digger off the fuckin’ hook, then told Mort I was footin’ the fuckin’ bill forwhat the fuck ever?”
“That about sums it up,” she mumbled.
“You outta your motherfuckin’ mind. That motherfucker gotta get fuckin’ stomped at the fuckin’ least.”
She grabbed his hand. “Come on. Let’s undress and talk about it in bed.”
He pretended watching her shimmy out of the nightie didn’t turn him the fuck on. The wicked little bitch put a little extra sexiness to her movements, even with a fucked up hand and ankle. She winked at him, turned, and sashayed to her side of the bed. The tips of her golden hair flirted with her pretty ass cheeks.
Christopher’s breath hitched. Glaring at her innocent look, he flung his clothes aside, annoyed to motherfucking hell. He slid into bed, placed his hands behind his head, and glowered at the ceiling.
She nudged her head against him. He immediately relented. Maybe, if he’d been sleeping next to her these past days, hecould’ve held out five or ten minutes longer. But this was one of his favorite games she played. Softening him up and seducing him into compliance with sweet words and good loving.
“Digger needs to leave me alone,” she said, rubbing her finger down the center of Christopher’s chest.
She paused at his navel and began circling it, sending goosebumps along his spine and pleasure spiraling inside him.
“You and Mortician can figure something out together.”
She slid her hand lower, skimming his aching cock and fondling his balls.
“And don’t tell Mort that money was yours. Please?”
