Page 90 of Restless
“Them?” Mort pointed from Boy to Derby to Dez. “Yeah, he’d fuck them up.You? He’d order me to fuck you up to prove where my loyalties lay.”
He hated to think about that dark time when just such a scenario had arisen.
“Then I’m good,” Digger boasted. “You’d let me go just like before.”
Mort slapped the side of Digger’s head. “Fuck you, motherfucker. I swore if you ever put me in that position again, Iwouldfucking kill you. The only fucking reason you lived is because Outlaw know how much you mean to me.”
“Really? You could’ve fooled me. He beat me half to fucking death.”
“He had to,” Boy said. “You went fucking AWOL.”
“The club was hit hard,” Derby reminded them. “And you were spotted amongst the enemies. Then, you took his boy. If he hadn’t have meted out a severe punishment, one of your brothers would’ve.”
“It also would’ve weakened Outlaw,” Mortician said.
“Like Meggie?” Digger asked in disgust. “We haven’t resolved the vulnerability of Dez’s club yet. He could search for another club’s help. The Gnomes, for instance.”
“Although I agree with you, Digger, Dez knows better.” Derby lifted a brow at Dez, satisfied when he nodded. “The Gnomes and the Dwellers have a peace agreement, but they still aren’t allies. If Dez turns to them, he’s fucked and so am I.”
“I wish it would resolve itself sooner rather than later,” Dez admitted. “Things are ramping up. I’ve lost two of my brothers.”
He picked up his cellphone and, a few moments later, handed it to Mort. A photo showed a deader-than-dead motherfucker with his feet in stocks, and his bullet-riddled head clamped in a pillory.
“Fuck, this some Medieval type shit,” Mort said, showing the photo to Digger, then giving it to Boy.
“Like the ghost of motherfucking Rack haunting us,” Digger said.
“Rack?” Dez queried.
“A Freebird,” Mort said quickly.
So far, Dez was loyal, but if he wasn’t helped soon, desperation might change that.
“I ran across Wally, Jr., recently,” Derby revealed.
Mort thought that motherfucker long-ago fucked-up. He hadn’t ever met him, though Rack mentioned his son from time-to-time. Until he didn’t. “No shit?”
“What he been up to?” Digger asked.
Derby shrugged. “Still a beady-eyed, slippery motherfucker. Couldn’t pin him down for shit. What part of his brain alcohol didn’t pickle, drugs fucking fried.”
Beautifulby Christina Aguilera peeled through the room. Red was calling.
Motherfucking Johnnie.
He wished Prez was around. He’d get motherfuckers in order.
Sighing, Mort answered the call, ignoring the disappointment that he hadn’t heard Bailey’s ringtone:Just The Way You Areby Bruno Mars.
“M-Mort?” Red hiccupped.
“What up, baby?”
A motherfucking lot.
“J-Johnnie…” She sniffled. “He…he…he still isn’t h-h-home.”
He was too busy lost in motherfuckery. After he found Johnnie in Meggie’s room, he’d hit up Stretch, ordering him to check the hospital cameras.
