Page 70 of Relentles
“I heard it can be quite profitable.”
She nodded. “My son’s almost four. There are things I wanted to get him for Christmas.” She bowed her head. “I had just enough left over this paycheck for a decent holiday meal.”
Christopher winced. Standing, he dug in his cut and came up with the money he’d had for Megan to do her charity stuff. Wherever she saw Salvation Army collections, she wanted to stuff bills into the red bucket. They hadn’t been in the mood to shop.
He handed Torie the money. “From me and Megan.”
“She isn’t here.”
“She won’t care. She’d want you to have it. She’s my sweet angel.”
Torie’s expression turned dreamy. “That’s so sweet.”
“It’s true,” he said simply, then sat next to her again. It was late. He needed to leave.
Wide-eyed, Torie counted the money three times. “She’s a better woman than me. I would kick a bitch’s ass if my man gave her almost a grand in cash.”
“Megan knows she’s my heart and soul. No her. No me.”
“That’s deep.”
“Ain’t tryin’ to be. It’s just another fuckin’ truth.”
“Then why did I find you all alone, looking so lost?”
Because he was.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Megan’s my priority. Always. Forever. I put her first, even over myfuckinself. My kids. Anyfuckinbody.” Blowing out a heavy breath, he rested his head on the back of the sofa and stared at the drop ceiling. The sight reminded him of the shit show from earlier, so he straightened. “Except…”
“Except?”
“Jo. I’m still so fuckin’ worried about my woman, but Jo…”
“She’s a tiny baby, Christopher.”
He met Torie’s gaze. “Ain’t no bitch but Megan and my sisters call me Christopher.”
“I’m not a bitch, so I’m exempt.”
“No girl, woman, or motherfucker. Clearer for you?”
Her irritation annoyed him, so he stood.
She got to her feet, too. “I’m sorry. Don’t go. I’m enjoying our conversation. I thought you were, too.”
He was losing his fucking mind. First, he’d bared his soul to Johnnie. Now, he’d spent nearly an hour with Torie, time where they’d barely discussed Jo.
Megan was kind, but that lil’ bitch had a motherfucking temper. Her go-to punishment for Christmas was chaining up her Promised Land. He’d just started eating her pussy again. If he lost that privilege because he’d turned into a whiny bitch-baby, he’d be madder than a motherfucker.
“In her current frame of mind, Megan would take everything the wrong fuckin’ way. I ain’t even told her I left the fuckin’ club.”
“She keeps tabs on you?”
Barely hearing Torie, he rubbed his eyes, exhausted. “Fuck. I don’t know what the fuck I’d do…fuck!” He rubbed the backof his neck.” Ignore my ass. I’m still bein’ a whiny-sulky-feelin’-sorry-for-myself motherfucker.”
She giggled, and he smiled.
“I gotta get home.”
