Page 226 of Restless
Unable to bring himself to kiss Adette’s lips, he skimmed her chin, then looked at Bash. If Christopher didn’t know better, the motherfucker looked angry. Perhaps, he was onto Christopher’s game.
He held out his hand. Sadie took it, and he pulled her to his side. He glanced at her from head to toe. Seeing her shaved pussy, he asked what was allegedly inquired of most redheads. “Your pussy hair red, too, babe?”
The other motherfuckers snickered.
Sadie stood between him and Bash, so Christopher couldn’t see his expression. But, then, the uneasiness left her eyes and she glanced over her shoulder.
“A slut with a juicy ass,” Bash said. “My cock can’t take it.”
“Get up, babe,” Christopher whispered to Adette. “Grin and rub my back. When I tell you to go, don’t ask questions. Derby’ll get your money to you.”
A smile plastered on her face, Adette slid off his lap, then shimmied behind him and began skimming her fingers over his nape.
“Sadie, come here,” Christopher ordered, wanting to move Adette away when she draped her arms around his neck.
Once Sadie reached his side, he pulled her onto his lap, following the same procedure he had with Adette. To him, his actions with Adette and Sadie were a process to reach an end goal. Bash’s reaction to Sadie was completely different from the one he’d had toward Adette, proving to Christopher Bash was fucking clueless. His response had been because of Adette.
That was all he needed to know.
He’d extract Derby from this powder keg. “Derby, escort these two bitches to the motel and rent them a room. I know you got to hit the road, brother. I’ll call you when I get home.”
Glancing away, Derby sniffed and thought for a moment. “Adette, you and Sadie Uber to the place at the edge of town,” he said finally. “We’ll catch up to you in a couple of hours.”
Adette bent and brushed her lips over Christopher’s. He restrained his recoil, then forced himself to watch her leave.
“We need more beers, Derby,” he said.
He’d promised Rule he wouldn’t beat his ass for stabbing Bash after the little motherfucker confessed at CJ’s urging. But Christopher felt like clamping a strait jacket on him and locking him in a rubber room.
And Ryan?
Though he hadn’t gone to Val or confronted Ryan yet, he wanted to kill that little assfuck. Except it would break his sister’s heart.
However, even though he worried about Megan and wanted to remain at her side until she was completely better, she was out of the hospital and truly on the mend, allowing Christopher to breathe easier andthink.
According to Rule, he’d gone to the mall, then decided he wanted to walk to the bridge. When he got there, he happened upon Ryan and Bash. Shit turned ugly and Bash began strangling Ryan, so Rule was forced to stab Bash in the shoulder.
Christopher had listened in silence to his son’s confession, not pointing out all the fucking inconsistencies in Rule’s story.
Breaking it down, he’d thought about the flawed technicalities—Rule preferred his own fucking company to a mall. He definitely wouldn’t have gone just for shits and giggles. And what about the weapon? A knife? Perhaps, Christopher hadn’t realized how fucking far Rule took his religious beliefs, but hedidknow his son didn’t carry a weapon. How many times had he seen Rule check his pockets before hanging up his jackets or coats? Countless. He’d never carried a blade.
If he was going to a place where he anticipated bad shit? Then, he could see Rule selecting a blade from the gun room, where Christopher had a small cabinet of knives. Megan and their children knew the door code on the off chance the house was ever breached and they needed to defend themselves.
Finally, he’d thought about the procedurals. Camera footage had been erased and the tracking signals intercepted. That shit had Matilda, or Rebel, written all over it. Unfortunately, the overwhelming flaw in the monitoring had yet to be addressed. If those two could so easily hack their tracers, other motherfuckers could, too.
Combined, the evidence fired Christopher’s suspicions. What fucking reason did Bash have to contact Ryan? He’d thought maybe it had to do with Molly. He understood a man’s need to protect his girl.
Ryan was neither a mannorprotective, so that shit didn’t fly.
Besides, Rule discussed Bash with an odd mixture of familiarity and distaste. As if he knew, or knew of, the motherfucker.
Whatever else Christopherdidn’tknow, he was fucking certain: 1. Ryan already knew Bash; 2. Rule had known of Ryan’s with meeting Bash in advance; 3. Bash was fucking with the kids for a reason; 4. Christopher bet it had something to do with him; 5. Bash would’ve struck if it was club related; he would’ve targeted Bitsy or Val if his beef was with them; 6. Johnnie and Brooks mentioned Megan, Kendall, and Mattie; 7. Lying motherfuckers surrounded him; 8. Bash was trying to get to Megan; 9. Bash, Johnnie, Brooks, and now Cleaner, had a fucking date with the meatshack; 10. He was counting the days to Ryan’s 18thbirthday, still eighteen months away, but what-the-fuck-ever.
Once the beers were replenished, Christopher made another show of good faith. His anger toward Rule and Ryan inched a little higher.
“Why don’t Cleaner go see to the wound?” he suggested casually. “It was a .22, but the motherfucker still got a foreign object in him.”
After the initial moaning, he’d shut the fuck up. His eyes, however, burned with hatred.
