Page 228 of Relentles
“I didn’t mean to get him killed.” Rebel sounded shell-shocked.
“What the fuck you meant then?” Christopher snapped and glared at his niece’s back. “What about you, Matilda?”
“I’m sorry,” she wailed. “I’m so sorry!”
“You can’t fuckin’ undo it,” Christopher barked. “Those two didn’t have good in them for fuckin’ with you and supplyin’ your goddamn drugs.”
She lifted her head and seemed to stop breathing. “Daddy will kill me. Momma would fall to pieces. She’d think she failed.”
“I gotta tell Johnnie, Mattie,” he said grimly. It annoyed him that her behavior required a conversation with that motherfucker.
“No! Uncle Christopher, please—”
“You his kid, baby. He has to know.”
“He’ll be so disappointed in me. He won’t k-kill me, but he’ll never forgive me or think of me as special.”
“You made a mistake, Matilda. I’ma make Johnnie see that.”
“I only smoke pot. I don’t do any other drugs.Please.”
Christopher sighed. He wished he could spare her because Johnnie was a superficial motherfucker. He’d give Mattie hell. “Take Mattie home, Reb. I gotta shower. Let your ma know.” She’d understand the meaning.
Rebel lifted tortured blue eyes to him. “You’d really kill Diesel and Bishop if they messed with me?”
He couldn’t kill Diesel. Motherfucker was on Megan’s no kill list, but Rebel didn’t know that and neither did Diesel.
“Yeah, Reb. I’d shoot the fuck outta them.”
Maybe, now, she’d fucking behave and take him seriously.
She stumbled to her feet. Neither girl looked fit to make it to the house.
“Wait for CJ outside, you two,” he instructed.
In true girl dramatics, they hugged each other tightly, then linked their arms and staggered out.
“The two Byrd motherfuckers back at school?”
“No, Outlaw,” CJ said. He’d picked up on Diesel’s cues. “I’ve been waiting for them.”
“They ain’t no fuckin’ Byrds. They’re Barts,” he said flatly.
“How—”
“Follow me.” At the Free Bird wall, he pointed to Rack. “Them motherfuckers resemble a fuckin’ pig with black hair and beady fuckin’ eyes?”
“Goddamn,” CJ said, all the verification Christopher needed.
“This was the motherfucker that wrestled me in the meatshack with Holmes. He wanted fuckin’ Snake as president after Big Joe died.”
Christopher punched Rack’s photo, wishing it was the size of a thumbnail, rather than the four by six now there. It was long ago downgraded from the eight by ten. He kept it on the dark side of the wall. None of the kids would’ve paid attention to see that dirty fuckhead.
“This the motherfucker who shot Ma and who put Megan on his fuckin’ torture table when you was inside her.”
He ripped the photo off the wall. Fuck respect and consideration to any remaining members that was alive in Rack’s time. Tearing the picture didn’t satisfy him. He wanted that motherfucker alive again to fucking stomp.
“We gotta get those two back to Ridge Moore,” Christopher said.
