Misrule

by Kelly, Kathryn C.

  “I going on the swing.”

  “I ain’t gonna be long,” Christopher promised, not protesting his son’s announcement because the swing was just up ahead, within a few feet of where they stood.

  “You got to push me, ‘Law.”

  “Okay,” he responded, distracted, opening each of Emily’s texts to see her in a new outfit, including a negligee that revealed more than it covered.

  You the fuck out your mind texting my ass?

  He couldn’t believe this bitch was sending him these types of photos. He gave her money to purchase outfits. He had never asked to see the motherfuckers on her. If Megan had been home this evening, they would’ve been in each other’s company and there was no fucking way Christopher could’ve explained this shit.

  Of course, he wished she was fucking home. She wouldn’t be out on a playdate with the old lady of one of his support club presidents and their kids. Alone. Without fucking escort. She would’ve been here and safe. For some fucking reason, she thought the drastic fucking action of taking their little motherfuckers with them would help her through her trauma. CJ hadn’t wanted to go—and neither had Christopher—so him and his boy stayed home for a playdate of their own.

  The phone beeped again.

  I want to make sure they meet with your approval.

  Her text response came within a few minutes, as if she expected his immediate response. It annoyed the fuck out of him that he’d fallen right the fuck into her trap.

  Ain’t gotta meet with my fucking approval, Emily. It gotta be what the fuck Johnnie like.

  You hired me to do a certain job and gave me the money to buy these clothes.

  Yeah, well, he couldn’t fucking dispute that.

  You’re my boss, Outlaw.

  As your fucking boss, I’m telling you don’t hit me up on my goddamn phone like you got a fucking right. If my woman had been with me, I wouldna been able to explain this shit.

  You either want me to steal Johnnie away from Kendall or you want to spare your wife’s feelings.

  Sparing Megan’s feelings meant allowing Kendall to live.

  “’LAW!” CJ yelled, impatience clear in his tone.

  Christopher glanced at his boy, who sat on the swing, his dangling legs not long enough to touch the ground. He suddenly felt lower than a motherfucker, dealing with this Emily bitch behind Megan’s back. No reason he’d give would be sufficient enough to appease her sense of betrayal if she ever discovered this.

  I’m a very good listener. Why don’t you come to my house and let me model the clothes for you in person, while I lend you my ear.

  Fuck you. Fuck no. Fuck off. My woman my best fucking friend. Don’t need you for a motherfucking thing.

  Really? You need me to help you with Kendall.

  Do I? Ain’t lied when I told your ass I got another fucking plan.

  He didn’t at the moment, but she didn’t need to know that. He’d motherfucking come up with one, though. Or, maybe, he did.

  Your fucking ass acting just like Kendall, trying to get dick from me.

  Me like Kendall? Never!

  Prove it to me. Act like you got some goddamn sense in your fucking head and understand I ain’t fucking over my woman. You ain’t sent me fucking pictures for my approval. You sent me those motherfuckers for my cock. Don’t give a fuck how the fuck you look. Don’t give a fuck what the fuck you is or ain’t wearing. You ain’t my Megan, so you ain’t even a blip on my fucking radar. What the fuck don’t you two bitches understand about that? I. LOVE. MY. FUCKING. WOMAN.

  Goddamn it, but he was sick of having to tell bitches that. Couldn’t they fucking respect the bounds of matrimony? It wasn’t only Kendall and Emily, either. Random bitches who came to the club; bitches he met when he had to go on runs; bitches he ran across when he was fucking out and about.

  Am I really acting like Kendall?

  You acting worse than her. YOU the one that supposed to have sense.

  From now on, I will respect your marriage vows and make sure you do, too.

  Christopher sighed.

  Babe, what the fuck you not understanding? It’s up to my ass to respect my fucking marriage vows. Nothing in this world more important to Megan, except my vows to her. If you fuck with that, I’m killing you.

  He supposed it was time to get a new burner. He couldn’t threaten a bitch and have it traced back to him. Now, he’d had to think of a fucking reason to tell Megan he was getting a new throwaway number. It was as if it was his legitimate number. Still, Megan would ask questions.

  I will behave. I promise.

  He fucking doubted that, but what the fuck was he supposed to do? It was Kendall who had found this bitch, then told Johnnie, who opened his big fucking mouth and gave Christopher the idea. If she was still that fucking stuck on what the fuck Emily Riser did to her that she had to go searching for her, then Kendall would come unhinged if his plan worked. She was vulnerable to Emily.

  “DAD!”

  CJ’s yell startled Christopher.

  “I been calling you,” his boy said, a frown creasing his brow. “Why you using your phone so much for not MegAnn?”

  Fuuuuuccccckkkkk. CJ would run and tell Megan if Christopher didn’t do something.

  Shoving the phone away, he walked to where his son stood by the swing. CJ tipped his head back to glare at Christopher. In return, Christopher folded his arms.

  “This business, boy. Business you ain’t able to tell your Ma about.” He hated Kendall a little more for the position he found himself in. He’d told his son to never hide anything from Megan. He sighed, then got down on one knee, settled his hands on his son’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I know you ain’t understandin’ why I’m askin’ you to hide somethin’ from your Ma when my ass been tellin’ you your entire fuckin’ life to never lie to her. But this…this…your Ma wouldn’t like it.”

  CJ studied him. “’Law get in trouble with MegAnn?”

  To say the fucking least. Christopher nodded. “This…just keep your fuckin’ mouth shut. You ain’t able to ever fuckin’ tell her I was on the fuckin’ phone to-fuckin-day.”

  “Can we play video games longer in the treehouse?”

  “Wait a fuckin’ minute. You fuckin’ bribin’ my fuckin’ ass, tellin’ me if we play video games for fuckin’ longer you keepin’ your mouth shut?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What the fuck?” Christopher growled. “You ain’t even six yet and you gettin’ the drop on me?”

  Not answering, CJ blinked at him.

  “Fuck, fine.” He dropped his hands from his son’s shoulders, then glowered at him. “But if you end up tellin’ your Ma anyway, Ima spank you and take your fuckin’ video games away for a goddamn week.”

  Water filled CJ’s eyes and his lower lip trembled. “’Law mean.”

  No, what ‘Law was, was fucked. “I ain’t bein’ mean, son. You ain’t blackmailin’ a motherfucker then goin’ back on your goddamn word. That shit get you fucked up quick. And if you ain’t grounded for it, then you beat the fuck up and put in a body cast, then motherfuckers ain’t ever trustin’ you a-fuckin-gain.”

  “’Kay.”

  Standing, Christopher dusted off his jeans, while CJ grabbed his hand and guided him to the extravagant fucking treehouse Megan had built for the children. It was split level—a mini mansion twenty-five feet from the forest floor and sitting amidst huge trees. He was glad he’d thought to have a delineated property line. Instead of open woods that would invade Val and Bitsy’s land, Christopher had fenced in acreage for each house. And, luckily, said acreage had huge fucking trees to hold huge fucking treehouses with a spiral staircase that CJ was currently bouncing up. Not wanting to frighten his boy from just being a little kid, he stayed close behind. If the little motherfucker fell back, Christopher would catch him.

  CJ ran to the door and opened it. “Want to play hide and seek, ‘Law?” he asked, stepping in and skidding to a halt. He gasped as Christopher walk
ed in and froze. “Dee! What you doing to Lyndsey?”

  What was he doing to Lyndsey? What the fuck was he doing to Lyndsey? The question pounded through Christopher’s head as he took in the scene.

  He was fucking her that’s what the fuck he was doing.

  “CJ, go away,” Diesel ordered, then moved away from his girlfriend, allowing her swollen pussy to be shown to the world. “Uncle Chris!”

  It dawned on Christopher to grab CJ and cover his eyes, while, he, too, turned the fuck around.

  “I hope the fuck you on birth control, Lyndsey, cuz from what the fuck I saw Diesel ain’t covered his cock.”

  “Condoms are annoying,” Diesel said.

  “Your fuckin’ cock fallin’ the fuck off gonna be annoyin’ too.”

  “Mr. Caldwell, please don’t tell my parents,” Lyndsey said.

  Christopher rolled his eyes. “Is your pussy covered, cuz I sure the fuck ain’t interested in seein’ it again?”

  She sniffled. “Y-yes, sir.”

  “’Law, it smell funny in here and it’s hot.”

  “It smell like musky dick and fucked pussy.”

  A sob escaped Lyndsey. Christopher drew in a deep breath. He was failing this fucking test, but Diesel had shocked the fuck out of him. Yeah, he knew the motherfucker was fucking. He just didn’t fucking know the motherfucker was fucking in something that a kid could walk in on at any time. He probably needed to be more…more gentle, especially toward Lyndsey.

  “Go upstairs, CJ,” Christopher instructed. “Ima be up in a few fuckin’ minutes.”

  “The video game down here.”

  “I know, son. Just go the fuck upstairs. I gotta talk to Diesel and Lyndsey.”

  “Cuz her ‘gina was out?”

  Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? And he knew just where the fuck CJ got gina from. “Yeah, boy, and it shouldna been out in here.”

  “Why was it out and what was Dee doin’ to it?”

  Gritting his teeth, Christopher thought quick. “We gonna talk later, CJ. Go up-fuckin-stairs.”

  “’Kay.”

  CJ’s motorcycle boots pounded on the wooden stairs, then stopped near the top. Crouching slightly, Christopher saw the top of the boots, resting on a stair. His boy had sat his little ass down to eavesdrop.

  He turned. Lyndsey sat on the edge of the couch. The same place Diesel had been fucking her on. The only difference was she was dressed and tears were streaming down her face.

  “I guess it’s time for a lecture,” Diesel said with resentment.

  “What the fuck you think my ass gonna say?”

  Diesel shrugged. “How I shouldn’t have brought her to CJ’s treehouse and how this belongs to him.”

  “This not just for him.” He was the one who used it most, however.

  “Okay, it belongs to your children.”

  The underlying anger was clear in his voice, but Christopher heard vulnerability, too, the kind that came upon a motherfucker when he felt as if he didn’t have nobody else in the entire fucking world.

  Taking his time to light a smoke and take a few puffs, he offered one to Diesel.

  “You’re allowed to smoke?” Lyndsey asked in awe.

  Standing taller and nodding, Diesel grabbed one from Christopher’s pack and lit it.

  “This treehouse belong to the children,” Christopher started. “Meanin’ lil’ kids. Motherfuckers who ain’t got the fuckin’ right to see you in some bitch and have they innocence stolen the fuck away.”

  “You’ve said it belongs to your kids, Uncle Chris.”

  Christopher drew on his cigarette again, then released the smoke. “My fuckin’ ass lied about that?”

  Diesel glowered at him.

  “Look, motherfucker, Ima wipe that fuckin’ look off your face. You in this treehouse, fuckin’ your sixteen-year-old girlfriend, throwin’ fuckin’ digs at my ass, and tellin’ me I gotta watch what the fuck I say cuz your fuckin’ ass on your goddamn shoulders. Lemme ex-fuckin-plain somethin’ to you, Diesel. You one of my kids, but I fuckin’ thought you was fuckin’ smart e-fuckin-nuff to know I see you as a fuckin’ man and give your ass that fuckin’ respect. Ain’t nothin’ like findin’ your own footin’ and knowin’ you got a motherfucker there to guide you when you need him, not cuz he wanna make you do what the fuck he think best. You almost eighteen-years-old. Megan still think you ain’t knowin’ what a pussy smell like; ain’t knowin’ how it feel to be in a pussy or get your cock sucked. Left up to her, you’d be sittin’ the fuck around in the fuckin’ playroom with the fuckin’ kids cuz that what she see you as. Her kid. From here on fuckin’ out, if you want me to say the kids to include you, Ima treatcha like a fuckin’ kid. As a matter of fuckin’ fact, Ima let Megan set your curfew, pack your fuckin’ lunch, deny you cigarettes and alcohol and Aunt Mary. And Ima tell Megan you and Lyndsey been fuckin’.” He glared at Lyndsey. “She gonna call your fuckin’ parents.”

  Diesel hung his head.

  “Lyndsey, you still a kid. Don’t let no motherfucker get in your pussy, fill you with a kid, and ruin your fuckin’ life. You got time for fuckin’.”

  “I love Diesel, Mr. Caldwell.”

  Lifting his head, Diesel frowned.

  “Be a kid while the fuck you can,” Christopher told her, wanting to knock the fuck out of Diesel and his wayward cock. “Bein’ a grown-up hard as fuck.”

  She wasn’t convinced.

  “You ain’t able to come over un-fuckin-less we home. You ain’t able to go in Diesel room or anywhere, unless CJ with you.”

  “Uncle Chris, that’s not fair. He’ll tell on me.”

  “Shut the fuck up. You about to graduate and you goin’ away to college and—”

  “You said you’d changed your mind about going away?” Lyndsey interrupted, her face crumpling as she looked at Diesel.

  Diesel shifted. “I just haven’t told Uncle Chris, yet,” he mumbled.

  Christopher snorted. He had to teach his fucking girl not to fall for a motherfucker’s bullshit, especially a good looking assfuck like Diesel that had girls falling at his fucking feet.

  “Lyndsey, get the fuck outta here,” Christopher ordered, stepping aside since he still stood in the doorway.

  “I picked her up,” Diesel announced.

  “Go wait in the fuckin’ family room. Ima take you fuckin’ home my-fuckin-self.”

  “Why can’t I take her?”

  “Cuz that’s exactly what the fuck you’ll do. Take her, and not just to her fuckin’ house.”

  “’Law, I tired waitin’,” CJ called.

  “I know, boy. We got a new fuckin’ plan, though. We gotta bring Lyndsey home.”

  “Then we coming back to play video games?”

  “Yeah, boy.”

  “’Kay.”

  Christopher looked at Diesel. “Where the cock covers I gave you?”

  Diesel shrugged again, his go-to gesture to show his insolence. “Somewhere.”

  “You ain’t got a motherfuckin’ dime to take care of a fuckin’ kid.”

  “You fucked at my age.”

  “I did,” Christopher agreed. “But I was also earnin’ my fuckin’ money. I was usin’ condoms, too.”

  “I want to earn money, but you won’t let me become a probate.”

  “Not now.”

  “If I’m your son, you should be happy I want to follow in your footsteps.”

  “If I’m your old man, you should be fuckin’ happy I want you to have better than my fuckin’ ass,” Christopher countered. “Ain’t tellin’ you no different than Ima tell CJ or any of my fuckin’ sons or nephews.”

  Diesel fell silent, then glanced away. “You’re really telling Aunt Meggie?”

  “Diesel, look, boy. It’s fuckin’ okay to be fuckin’ angry,” Christopher responded, unsure if he would tell her or not. “Pissed the fuck off at the world. You been through a lot. Both your Ma and your old man ducked out on you and left you homeless. My ass would
be madder than a motherfucker, too. But we ain’t leavin’ you. You for me and Megan. You ours. You ain’t goin’ through this shit alone, no matter what the fuck I call this fuckin’ treehouse.”

  A tear slid down Diesel’s cheek. “You might decide to throw me away.”

  “So you tryna throw our asses away first, huh?”

  Another tear. A third shrug. A sniffle.

  “I ain’t tellin’ Megan, but I was fuckin’ serious about how you interactin’ with Lyndsey. You ain’t wantin’ nothin’ but to fuck her. Mean-fuckin-while, she lookin’ at you like you a fuckin’ god.”

  “She’s so pretty.”

  “She is,” Christopher agreed. “She also a good fuckin’ girl that think you her fuckin’ soulmate.”

  Diesel groaned. “Girls are so stupid.”

  “No, girls smart. Us motherfuckers the ones that’s stupid. We see a pretty bitch and we just see our fuckin’ cocks in them. We ain’t carin’ that they got feelins and shit cuz the motherfucker between our legs ain’t carin’.”

  “Are you going to tell Lyndsey?”

  “About you just wantin’ to fuck her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nope. It’s up to your ass to do the right fuckin’ thing. All the fuck I can do is guide you to the right fuckin’ path. Whether you take the motherfucker up to you.”

  His main phone dinged. When he pulled it out, he saw a text from Megan.

  The kids are enjoying themselves. We’re going to stay at Gypsy’s a little while longer. I love you.

  This fucking evening just got better and fucking better. He might have to bribe his boy with cash because, after he dropped Lyndsey off, he was heading over to Derby and Gypsy’s place, so his woman would have an escort home. He might not be able to do anything about some of this bullshit, but it was becoming more and more obvious drastic actions called for drastic fucking measures.

  Chapter Seventeen

  One week later…

  Although he’d watched Kendall leave her house, ten minutes ago, Knox still carefully opened her entrance door, using Outlaw’s spare keys. The ones Kendall knew nothing about.