Page 267 of Remiss
CJ didn’t respond.
“She knows you and Ryan. One of you can sit in the back with her, while the other drives.”
“You’ll let Ryan drive your Benz?”
“I’d prefer it to be you, but I’ll let the two of you decide. This isn’t a situation to nitpick. It’s all hands on deck. If she’s there and alive, she’ll need us to be at our optimum.”
“You’re right.”
“I’m always right, motherfucker,” Diesel said, grinning.
CJ laughed despite his turmoil. “In your fucking dreams, fuckhead.”
Diesel clapped him on the back and headed to his bike.
A few minutes later, CJ sat behind the wheel of the Benz, impatient for the signal to open the gate, so they could start off. He ignored Ryan in the passenger seat, his lip busted and caked with dried blood and his jaw swollen. Neither bothered CJ in the least. His fucking head should’ve been broken.
The vibrations from all the bikes rocked the ground. It was an amazing feeling and even better, when they finally startedmoving. The earth shaking, the roar of the motorcycles as they turned onto the street music to CJ’s ears. The line of bikes was much more than Dad’s go-tos in these situations.
“I begged Johnnie,” Ryan finally croaked. “To get her back. He refused to help me.”
CJ didn’t want the sadness in Ryan’s voice to touch him, but it did. Fuck it all, Ryan had suffered in Molly’s absence, too. Her disappearance softened him, brought him closer to Uncle Val and Aunt Zoann. Closer to his brother and his cousins.
“Did you send her away?” CJ demanded.
“CJ—”
“It’s a yes or no fucking question.”
“No,” Ryan whispered.
“Then why the fuck would you go to Uncle Johnnie for help?”
“Because—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped. “Him knowing Bash is a bullshit excuse. You knew that motherfucker, too, Ryan. Theonlygoddamn reason you needed Uncle Johnnie’s help was ifyourfucking ass told Tom Harris where she was and Bash asked you if you were out of your motherfucking mind to flip the fucking script, so fuck you.”
“CJ, I swear I wouldn’t do that to her.”
CJ gripped the steering wheel, so angry he barely saw the road in front of him. The sound of the bikes grounded him in reality. “I know you wouldn’t, but, motherfucker, you would do it to me.”
“I wouldn’t!”
“Not anymore. But a few weeks ago? She was expendable as long as you hurt me.”
“She was my girlfriend. A kind girl. She…she lost my baby. Her mom. I wouldn’t have hurt her like that.”
Why did he have to empathize with Ryan? The fuckhead brought most of his misery on himself. Unfortunately, just like with Rory, CJ understood and believed Ryan. Besides, he liked the friendship they were forging, so he relented and said, “Uncle Johnnie likes having shit over on people. Makes a little man feel big,” he muttered.
Ryan’s smile crinkled his eyes, although he winced. “Why the fuck you still call that asshole ‘uncle’?”
“Habit.”
“Manners, cuck.”
CJ snickered. “You could take a course and sharpen yours, motherfucker.”
Ryan flipped him off, then heaved in a breath. “We’ve got to save DeLuca, CJ. He helped us when our own uncle wouldn’t.”
