Page 223 of Restless
“I don’t know why I called Sharper. Maybe for help or for revenge. Reverend Banks promised if I ever needed him, he was a phone call away the day I spoke to him when he congratulated me on Meggie’s birth.”
“Joe doesn’t like Sharper.”
“As if I care!FuckJoe,” she spat. “FuckMeggie. I hate them both. I want them to die! He left me, and so will she. She should’ve been a boy. If she had, Joe would love me. I hate her. She’s ruined my life. I want Joe to suffer. I want to make him suffer. He made me love him, then he wouldn’t do what I asked. I hate him!”
The next morning, Dinah crawled to Meggie’s room and found her baby girl in bed with the covers up to her throat. Sobbing, she pulled the blankets down and felt for Meggie’s pulse. It was there, but weak thanks to all the Tylenol. If Meggie pulled through, Dinah wouldn’t ever be mean to her again.
In the meantime, she dragged her naked, bruised, abused body to her own bedroom and struggled into the shower. Joe had merelyaskedfor oral sex. Logan and Sharper took that and so much more from her.
They stole a piece of her sanity. She’d never be the same again. For that alone, Joe would pay more than she’d ever meant him to when she’d called Sharper last week.
Part Four – Of Mice and Motherfuckers
Chapter Thirty-Four
Roseburg was the timber capital of the world in southern Oregon’s Umpqua River Valley. It was the county seat of Douglas and its most populous town.
Christopher didn’t make a habit of visiting, though he’d passed through on his way to other places. Now, it would serve as an out-of-the way meeting point. Mort had yet to talk to Brooks because of personal issues.
Once, Christopher would’ve ordered him to shove the shit aside and focus on club business.
Once.
Before he’d gotten used to his life with his wife and kids. Megan had been out of the hospital for two weeks, though he took her every day to see Jo. The day after the dinner with the Davises, Rule confessed to what happened on Turn Creek Bridge.
Christopher decided to do damage control to save Rule and Ryan’s miserable fucking lives and seized the first available opportunity to take care of business. The moment she reminded him of her appointment two days later, Christopher began making plans. Instead of accompanying her, which infuriated him even more, he arranged for Bunny to drive her and seized the moment to get a bead on the situation. He would find a way to make both those lil’ motherfuckers pay.
“Come on, Outlaw,” Derby called.
Christopher had been waiting on his idling bike in the parking lot of a bar with a closed sign on it. He had to force away his worry and fear for Megan and focus.
“You sure you want to do this?”
“Fuck, yeah.” Christopher lit a smoke, killed the engine, then dismounted. “I wouldna have suggested it if I wasn’t fucking sure.”
The sound of motorcycles drew closer. Derby sighed. “Dez and the other Devil officers are already inside.”
Puffing on his cigarette, Christopher glanced around. “Where the fuck they parked?”
“Around back. Their emblems are painted on their bikes. They don’t want to leave anything to chance.”
Christopher glared at Derby but didn’t bother responding since five bikes turned into the parking lot. He nodded to Derby, indicating their plan was now in effect, and turned, heading into the one-story brick and concrete building.
Inside, an oversized bar, tables and chairs crowded the little place. A stage dominated the front with a door on each side, where signs indicated the men’s and women’s bathrooms.
Dez and his four club brothers took up all the stools in front of the bar. Four naked girls sat at a table near the stage, while two more stood behind the bar, talking to the Scorched Devil members.
Dez glanced over his shoulder and met Christopher’s gaze, losing his smile, and jumping to his feet.
Christopher wasn’t sure how much Derby had filled Dez in, but he didn’t have time to go into detail. He walked to the bar, searching for an ashtray. Not seeing one, he squeezed the cherry to extinguish his cigarette and stuck it in his cut.
“Not all you motherfuckers might go home,” he said. “I’m gonna try to get all us out alive. Follow my fuckin’ cues.”
Dez paled. “Outlaw—”
The door opened, and Derby led Bash in, along with four motherfuckers Christopher didn’t know. Fuck, he didn’t know motherfucking Bash. He knewofhim, but it wasn’t the same fucking thing.
Bash’s spurs amused Christopher. Seeing his bandaged head didn’t. A leather duster hid the evidence of a shoulder injury.
