Page 37 of Restless
Uncle Johnnie ignored Rory. “Chances are high, he’ll get you killed first.”
“What—”
“Shut the fuck up. Go home, CJ, and don’t come back. Your association is endangering my children.”
“Are you crazy?” Rory said, still keeping a steadying hand on CJ’s shoulder. “I think Bash was there for Harley, fuckhead. CJ wasn’t even there when that motherfucker first appeared. It wasHarley. He kept looking at her, like the fucking dickface motherfucker he is.”
Horror washed over Uncle Johnnie’s face. “Kendall!” he snarled.
“She’s probably on the other side of the house, Dad. She can’t hear you.”
Rage twisting his features, Uncle Johnnie dug inside his suit jacket, producing his Glock, trembling so much he almost dropped the gun. He stared blindly around the room, until he focused on the mirror on the wall right beside where CJ and Rory stood.
The moment he lifted the gun, CJ shoved Rory to the floor and covered his body with his own. In the enclosed space, the gunshots were deafening. Glass and gilded wood flew in all directions. By the time the clip was empty, the wall was ruined, too.
Uncle Johnnie stared at the mess he’d created, breathing heavily, gun still clutched in his hand, now hanging at his side.
Aunt Kendall rushed in with Mattie hot on her heels. They stared at the man of the house, more unhinged than CJ had ever seen anyone. He staggered to his feet and helped Rory up. JJ halted in the doorway, tears running down his cheeks, holding a squirming and screaming Blade tightly.
“Kendall,” Uncle Johnnie croaked. “CJ needs help with Molly. She’s pregnant.”
“Oh, um—”
“Not by him.” That same frightening fury rose in Uncle Johnnie’s face again. He started for the door. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“Johnnie?” Aunt Kendall ran behind him, fear widening her eyes. She grabbed his wrist, the huge diamond in her wedding set gleaming in the light. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”
His nostrils flared and he leaned his forehead against hers, deflating. “I love you, Kendall,” he whispered. “So much.”
Aunt Kendall hugged him. “I know, Johnnie. I know. I love you, too.”
He kissed her as if he’d never see her again, then he walked to Mattie and hugged her with all the love a father should display, before rage gleamed in his eyes again.
He backed away, turned on his heel, and left without another word.
Chapter Six
“How is she?” Megan asked the moment Christopher passed the nurse on her way out, walked back into Megan’s room and sat in the chair next to her bed.
“Tiny,” Christopher said, nothing else coming to mind. He spent a lot of time in NICU, watching Jo and talking to her, wondering if she heard him. She was so small, he was afraid to hold her. During the rare times he gave in, he missed Megan’s guidance more than anything. His girl was so weak, it made her uninterested in Jo. Nine days ago, she’d been strong enough to see their girl for the first time. All she did was cry and apologize for her failure to keep Jo inside her longer. Finally, he stopped her from going since it seemed to be affecting her recovery. “But she’s getting stronger, baby.”
Smiling, Megan nodded. “How are you?”
A fucking wreck. “Don’t worry about me, Megan. I ain’t the one in the fuckin’ hospital bed.”
She cocked her head to the side, grogginess setting in.
Christopher reminded himself she still felt pain, so they administered strong meds to relieve her. She was stable again. Her blood pressure had been stable for the past week. She didn’t seem as swollen anymore and the fever from the infection she’d developed had broken. But seeing her eyes slip closed still sent panic through him. He couldn’t forget the moment she’d collapsed, and he thought he’d lost her.
Initially, he’d blamed Rebel for acting like a miserable little cunt and spewing filth at her ma. When Doc Will delivered the news that Jo wouldn’t survive and Megan might not either, Christopher’s hatred toward Rebel ran unchecked. Then, it died. As had his love.
He'd felt absolutely nothing for her; once she’d been his princess. And, so, he’d walked away, intending to go to his Megan and order her to fight to survive. He hadn’t given a fuck that Rebel was hysterical. Her pain vindicated his soul-crushing grief.
In tears, he’d stood in front of the elevator, awaiting its arrival, hearing Rebel’s sobs. As much as he wanted to, he hadn’t been able to turn his back on her. He’d gone back to her, his beautiful little princess who looked so much like her ma.
Seeing his boy trying to console his girl when he, too, was so devastated, almost broke Christopher. He’d wrapped both of them in his arms and cried with them. When CJ broke away and Rebel remained in Christopher’s embrace, he continued consoling her.
More importantly, he’d forgiven her.
