Chapter Twenty-One

The next afternoon, Christopher walked into Johnnie’s room at the club. He wasn’t sure why the motherfucker summoned him when the text mentioned Kendall. More specifically, Johnnie needed help with Kendall.

When Christopher saw her a few nights ago and they’d made their deal, she looked fine. Well, as fine as she could be considering all she’d said. He’d actually felt a little sorry for her.

Now, as he glared at Johnnie who was sitting propped against pillows, still stiff, swollen, battered, and bruised, Christopher imagined pulling his piece and ending the motherfucker. He was the cause for a lot of the current misery. Johnnie was the reason Megan felt so betrayed.

The only logical person to have sent those clips of Christopher’s interactions with Torie was the motherfucker on the bed. The one who needed to be put down.

“I know you ain’t asked me to come here to fuckin’ stare at me, Johnnie.”

He glanced away studying something on the far wall. “I’m sorry.”

Christopher didn’t want apologies or excuses. As a matter of fact, he wanted nothing from Johnnie. He’d given him chance after chance, on too many occasions. The assfuck always betrayed him. He didn’t know the meaning of family, loyalty, or blood in, blood out.

Turning, he started for the door.

“Wait, please.”

“Fuck you.”

“I never should have sent the videos to her.”

That stopped Christopher in his tracks. Though he didn’t face Johnnie again, the words piqued his interest.

“I never should’ve recorded our private conversation and let her hear. If I could undo it, I would.”

“The fuck you would. Cuz after you let her hear what the fuck I said, you still sent the fuckin’ clips.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

Christopher spun and stalked back to Johnnie’s side, hating him. “Despite you thinkin’ I’m a fuckin’ dumb motherfucker, I already fuckin’ figured it was you. None of the girls would help you with that bullshit. Stretch and Val respect my marriage enough not to systematically fuck it up. So my guess? You got Ryan to do it.”

Johnnie winced, all the answer Christopher needed. He growled, his hand going to his .9mm, holstered at his side. As always, Megan intruded. He couldn’t co-sign her becoming a cold-blooded, blood thirsty bitch, and killing Johnnie would be exactly that. She was willing to sacrifice Johnnie because she wanted Torie dead.

Somewhere, over the course of the past weeks, his sweet angel had left the building. Christopher wanted her back. He wanted her to look at him with love, adoration, and trust. He wanted her to remind him he wasn’t a killer, but a man. Her man, with a heart and a soul and a conscience.

“I’m sorry,” Johnnie croaked again.

Dropping his hand to his side, Christopher backed away and scrubbed a hand over his chest. “Anything else, John Peter?”

“I didn’t mean to hit her.”

Bitter anger swirled in Christopher. “No, you only meant to slap the fuck out of Mattie. That shit supposed to make me feel fuckin’ better?”

“You never want to hear about your little girl fucking. Whether she’s twelve or twenty.”

Christopher glowered, refusing to commiserate.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Tell it to her, Johnnie,” Christopher relented, on Mattie’s behalf. She was so fucking lost. The one motherfucker who could ease her and help her through this was the one motherfucker adding to her problems.

“What do I say to her, Christopher?”

“Stop being fuckin’ Logan and be Johnnie,” Christopher spat.

Johnnie’s gaze flew to Christopher’s. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know who Johnnie is anymore.”

“You never fuckin’ did,” Christopher grouched. “You didn’t fuckin’ know if you was loyal to me or to him, so you fuckin’ straddled the line, always tryin’ to please both of us. You lost you. You was so fuckin’ good. It’s why you had a small piece of Megan’s heart for so fuckin’ long.” He thought of Kendall’s bittersweet words and heaved in a breath, spying a chair in the corner. Once he pulled it to the side of the bed, he sat and folded his arms. “You ain’t ever saw it. Cuz me gettin’ her blocked all the good in you.” He shook his head. “Sometimes, I wonder how deep your fuckin’ regret go.”

Sighing, Johnnie stared at the ceiling. “That I told you about her pregnancy?”

“Yeah, fuckhead,” Christopher barked, annoyed Johnnie knew exactly what he’d meant. “Never mind it was the right fuckin’ thing for all of us.”

“When you came back to Long Beach and found us in the playroom, her devastation at your desertion was just starting to ease. I regret your timing more than telling you she was carrying your baby.”

“She stopped fuckin’ callin’,” Christopher said after a moment. “I lived for that fuckin’ phone to ring, even though I thought I was protectin’ her by stayin’ away. But, fuck, she got under my skin the moment Rack brought her to the club.”

“Do you know when I first saw her?”

“When I was in a coma,” Christopher said with a shrug.

“When she was facing off with Rack,” Johnnie amended.

The second time. She’d deal with Rack another two times, once at the Halloween party and, a few weeks later, when he intended to kill her.

“Do you ever think about if she would’ve had somewhere else to go, things might have turned out differently?”

On more than one occasion, although he wouldn’t admit that to the shady motherfucker. Christopher narrowed his eyes. “Ain’t fallin’ for your bullshit, John Boy. You ain’t gettin’ in my fuckin’ head and havin’ me second-guess why we ended up together. Cuz when it come right down to it, she didn’t have to fuckin’ come back to me. I put her up in a motel—”

“She was pregnant.”

“You do know my fuckin’ wife, right? Megan always been a fighter. If she didn’t want to come back to me, she wouldn’t have. Baby or not. It was her who wanted us to get back together. Not because she ain’t had a place to stay. It was because she fuckin’ loved me.” Leaning forward, Christopher rested his elbows on his knees. “This ancient history.”

Present history was filled with bullshit. Such as the fact that Megan’s car had been at a fucking repair shop. How fucking coincidental that happened the night CJ took Jaleena out, then decided to sleep at Diesel’s condo.

CJ couldn’t stand Tabitha, so he’d never sleep under her roof. Second, they were two stupid motherfuckers if they believed he didn’t have a fucking tracker on Megan’s car.

He was waiting for one of those clueless assfucks to realize they hadn’t fooled one fucking bit. CJ especially. His boy needed to learn the fucking art of lies and deviousness. Something he couldn’t teach him if he wouldn’t take balls in hands, stand in front of Christopher like a fucking man, and confess.

CJ’s attempt at being underhanded impressed the fuck out of him. And he was so fucking proud that he’d gotten his first blowjob.

Megancouldn’t know. Another thing he had to cover up. But being the old lady of a biker and a ma of one were like night and fucking day. What she might admire in Christopher, she’d abhor in CJ.

“Based on CJ’s birthday, you got her pregnant not long after you became her lover.”

Johnnie’s words broke into Christopher’s thoughts.

He folded his arms and shrugged. “So?”

“Kendall thinks if I would’ve had a romantic relationship with Megan, it wouldn’t have lasted. She said you gave her room to grow up.”

“How old’s Megan, Johnnie?”

“Thirty-five.”

“How old was she when we met her?”

“Famously eighteen. Or infamously.”

“And us?”

“We were thirty-two. You were about three months from thirty-three?”

“So she just fuckin’ caught up to the age we were when we met her three fuckin’ years ago. Let that fuckin’ sink in. It took her fifteen goddamn years. You honestly fuckin’ think that the girl she was then is the woman she is now? That’s your whole motherfuckin’ problem. Megan not that eighteen-year-old, Johnnie. She changed. We changed. You and her wouldna fuckin’ lasted. You woulda treated her the way Logan treated Zoann and you. The way you treatin’ your girl. As a fuckin’ object that can’t ever change. That always gotta be shiny and new and pristine. That’s there to use as a weapon when needed but as decoration always. Megan a real flesh and blood woman with brains and feelings and emotions. And Mattie real, too. She not perfect cuz not a motherfucker alive is. But she yours. She just want to be your daughter whether she sad, mad, happy, or whatever. She don’t want your fuckin’ judgment and abuse. She want your understandin’.”

“I’m not abusive. I was emotionally abused by Logan—”

“Two things possible at the same fuckin’ time,” Christopher growled, so tired of trying to get Johnnie to understand. “You was abused but you became an abuser.”

“In spite of what you think, I’ve always admired you. I’ve always wanted to live up to your expectations.”

“Two things, Johnnie. You admire me but you envy me. Or resent me. Or both. You couldn’t fuckin’ see that I woulda still been standin’ at your side no matter which road you chose. If you wanted to live in the civilian world as CEO of a Fortune 500 company, I would’ve supported you. I admired you,” he reiterated. “Respected you. Valued your fuckin’ opinion.”

“You protected me, too.”

“It don’t matter no more. I don’t give a fuck. If you wiped out, I wouldn’t shed a fuckin’ tear. If I pulled my piece and shot the fuck outta you, you’d just be bug food to me. You finally found a way to fuck with my wife. And I ain’t ever fuckin’ forgivin’ that. I want to fuckin’ kill you, but I don’t want it on her terms. I want her to accept you gotta die, not call for your fuckin’ death.”

“Christopher, I’m so, so sorry. Please, I’m begging you to forgive me. To trust me.”

“You see a motherfuckin’ idiot standin’ here? I ain’t ever trustin’ you again.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“I wanna fuckin’ kill you.”

The clueless motherfucker stared at Christopher, hurt and devastated.

“I’m out.” Christopher stalked to the door. “Don’t fuckin’ call me afuckingain. Ain’t interested in this bullshit.”

“Wait!”

It annoyed Christopher that he just couldn’t walk the fuck out.

“What?”

“Kendall’s off her meds.”

Well, fuck.