Page 163 of Rebellious

Mort clapped Val’s back and held out his hand. “In case I didn’t say it before: Congratulations, brother.”

“She so fucking excited,” Val said, accepting Mort’s hand. “But…fuck…It’s a fucking baby. The kind that keep you up all fucking night. And, fuck, Puff high risk because of her age. Suppose something happen to her?”

“Chester strong,” Mortician said. “As long as she follow her doctor advice, she’ll be fine.”

“The idea of another baby didn’t bother me until she actually said the words. Since Harley moved in, she started longing for a daughter. I hope that’s what this kid is so she won’t be disappointed. But, fuck, a girl. My nieces give me fucking gray hair. What the fuck my own daughter going to do to me?”

“Give you fucking white hair,” Christopher said. “But she okay, yeah?”

“She got bad morning sickness and cry for everything. Other than that, she’s fine.”

“The boys know?” Christopher asked.

Val shook his head. “Puff want to wait. I’m just following her lead.” He bid everyone goodnight and headed out.

Shoving his chair back, Diesel stood and thumped Easton’s shoulder. “Come on, fuckhead. It’s time for me to inspect your room.”

Easton looked at Christopher. “Does Roxanne beat everyone’s ass with her baton or just family?”

“She beat anyfuckinbody she want to,” Christopher answered.

Grabbing his collar, Diesel snatched him to his feet. “That means, motherfucker, you better be on your best behavior.”

Even after everyone else cleared away and it was only him and Christopher left at the table, Mort didn’t move. He didn’t talk either, so Christopher ordered a setup of vodka and tequila, and lit a cigarette. Once the liquor arrived, he snatched his tequila and drank from the bottle.

“Looked at the security footage,” he started.

“For?”

Christopher sucked on his cigarette, released the smoke, then drank again. “To make sure no motherfucker fucked with Kendall. I wanted to see if she was at the clubhouse and left with anyone. If she was naked when she left the clubhouse.” Silence. “When I picked her up, she smelled like your fuckin’ cologne.”

Heavy fucking silence.

“It don’t take a fuckin’ genius to realize Bailey sent you home, Mortician. Probably not in the nicest fuckin’ way.”

“It still don’t excuse what the fuck I did. It would be one thing if I wanted to leave Bailey. I don’t. I want my marriage to work.”

“Well, you can’t want that motherfucker to work alone. She gotta want it, too. Between Bailey and motherfuckin’ Johnnie always accusin’ you and Kendall of cheatin’—”

“Still not a fucking excuse, Prez.”

“But they planted that seed in your head. If they would’ve shut the fuck up and backed the fuck off—”

“Would you say that if Meggie fucked another motherfucker? Would she say it if you fucked another woman? You didn’t sleep with Torie and your marriage almost fell apart. We both know the right thing to do is to divorce my wife. Yeah, I thought about it before now. Things are just so fucking bleak and my heart is just broken, Prez. But I don’t deserve Bailey no more. I cheated on her. I cheated on my fucking wife.”

“Mortician—”

“Nothing you can say because you’d do the same. You wouldn’t want to stay with Meggie knowing you betrayed her.”

That was a possibility, though the probability was low. The guilt would eat him alive. Not to mention the fear that Megan would find out. But how could he ever survive without her?

“You know how I know you didn’t fuck Torie? With one hundred percent certainty no matter what the rumors was?”

Christopher lifted a brow.

“You didn’t file for divorce.”

“No guarantee I would have.”