Page 154 of Remiss
Jana resembled Johnnie because she, like him, favored Logan. Again,Christopher’sgrandfather, too.And, everything Bash had told Johnnie the day he met Easton, everything he’d learned previously, he’d never heard of Jana or saw evidence that Hopper gave birth to a great-grandchild of Logan’s.
Staring at the ceiling, Johnnie couldn’t ignore his hollowness. Neither Kendall nor Mattie had much to say. Not ‘I’m sorry for leaving and worrying you’ or ‘I missed you’ or anything. Yet, she’d had more than enough to say to Mortician. Johnnie heard her on the phone with him when they got back home. Giggling and whispering.
Fucking fuckhead. He needed something on his fucking mind other than Johnnie’s wife. What about his own? He needed to figure out how to get back in Bailey’s good graces instead of flirting with Kendall.
Motherfucker.
Huh.
Johnnie had it in his power to put something else on Mortician’s mind, so he’d stop filling Kendall’s head with nonsense.
That fucker wanted to fuck with Kendall against Johnnie’s express orders? Then turnabout was fair play.
Smiling, Johnnie turned and snatched his cell phone from the small table next to the bed. He didn’t call Bailey often so he had to pull her number from his contacts.
“Hello,” Bailey answered on the second ring.
“Hi Bailey. This is Johnnie, Kendall’s husband,” he added in case she didn’t recognize his voice. “Do you have a minute? I have something very important to discuss with you.”
If Christopher had known Roxy’s intentions, he sure the fuck wouldn’t have gone to her fucking house. His goddamn ass was still burning as he arrived at Derby’s clubhouse with Val, Mortician, and Stretch, for a scheduled meeting to discuss the future of the Scorched Devils.
He shouldn’t have fucking left his house once Diesel helped him to his room. Walking down those stairs again had been a fucking nightmare. For the first time since Megan hiredBishop and Kaia, he was happy they were there. Without their assistance, he might not have reached the ground level. They hadn’t held him up during their walk through the forest to the clubhouse, but they’d stayed at his side whenever he paused because his ass and legs were on fire.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growled, dismounting as fast as possible to overcome that burst of sharp, fiery pain that streaked from his shoulder blades to his ankles. The dull ache was better, so fucking much better. Bearable, too. He minced forward, groaning.
A cold shower might’ve helped. Salve for his ass. Something soothing. She’d beaten the fuck out of him.
He slid forward another fraction and moaned.
Val rushed to his side and put an arm around Christopher.
“Get the fuck away from me,” he growled, shrugging Val’s hold away, then slapping his fucking hand for good measure. “You ain’t got to hold me up.”
“I wasn’t about to hold you up, Outlaw. I was going to drag you inside. At the rate you walking, you won’t get to the meeting until fucking Halloween.”
Christopher glared at Val. “Next time, I’m gonna tell Roxanne to beat the fuck out of you with that broom.”
“The motherfucker broke,” Val argued.
Mortician tossed the cigarette he’d been smoking. “Why don’t I go inside and ask Derby to come out here, Prez?”
“Go ahead, Mort,” Christopher said, the bench near the front door of the clubhouse the most precious thing he’d ever seen.
“At least let us help you to the seat,” Stretch said.
“Fuck fine.”
Cursing every step of the motherfucking way, Christopher dropped onto the wooden bench and howled like a wolf seeing a full moon for the first time.
“Guess you wish Roxanne beat Outlaw’s ass before he fucked up your man, huh?” Val said, lighting his own cigarette.
Christopher scowled, but Stretch nodded, his lips drawn.
“How’s the motherfucker doing, by the way?” Val asked. “Forgot to inquire.”
“He’s awake. In a lot of pain.”
Val grinned. “More than Outlaw?” he asked, entirely too fucking amused.
