One by one, Digger ruled them out for one reason or another.
“Let’s just go,” he said, hours later, his frustration clear, as he got to his feet.
“Digger, maybe, if we wait a little longer.”
“The fucking shifts are changing, Bunny. We’re going to start looking mighty fucking suspicious hanging around this motherfucker all day. Let’s go. Let’s move onto Plan B.”
They were wasting time arguing. The longer it took to go through with Digger’s plans, the worse it would be for Meggie’s son. In silence, she followed Digger outside.
As they walked to the car, Bunny caught sight of the boy they’d seen upon arrival. He’d moved toward the back of the restaurant, to dig in the dumpster.
“Do you have twenty dollars?”
Digger slammed the back door shut and he’d situated Little Man. “For what?”
She pointed to the boy chomping on whatever he’d found. “Him.”
Looking over his shoulder, Digger cursed, then headed for the boy. She expected him to hand money over, so it surprised her when the boy hastily gathered his belongings and followed behind Digger.
“Bunny, this is Diesel. Diesel, meet Bunny,” he introduced. “I think I found a way to solve our problems.”
Dear Outlaw
I got a lot to say but a letter no place to say it. I apologize for, fuck, everything. I know you don’t believe me, but I haven’t betrayed you. Not intentionally. I can’t let Bunny go right now. She asked me to tell you to spare Gabe. I went to him because I was trying to get away from Sharper, and Bunny was bad off. He was helping his sister, not me. I swear that’s all he was doing. Bunny would be heartbroken if he was killed for doing what any good brother would do. I don’t know how far into Oregon the brothers and Sharper is, so I left Little Man as close as possible. I hope this letter fall into the right hands when your kid is found, but I don’t know what the fuck else to do. I’m scared to call in case you can track a burner. Speaking of that, I guess I got to touch on some sensitive subjects. Here goes: I took your son to save him. Sharper thought I aimed and accidentally missed. He would’ve shot the kid where he stood if I hadn’t gotten him away. That’s the truth. You got him running scared. He’s desperate and shit cuz he know you have a hit out on him because of Meggie. He wants to break you and he knows your weaknesses. I did some real stupid shit, but we family, Outlaw. Always. Never knew it til I got jealous of Meggie, Kendall, and Bailey. I felt fucking left out, so I latched on to Peyton and got in trouble with Sharper. Last thing: tell Mort…tell Mort I miss him. Ride or die forever.
Digger
That was the best he could do for himself, Gabe, and Outlaw’s son. Bunny hadn’t agreed with the letter, but she didn’t agree with most of what he did. Nor did she understand he had to take this shot in the dark. While they were in Arizona, he’d contact Outlaw, now that he felt confident both Little Man and the letter would reach the man with the discovery of Diesel.
Just when Digger had run out of hope, Bunny had pointed out Diesel.
Digger hadn’t intended to involve him, but the moment he saw him, he knew he was what his father would deem a throwaway. A lost boy who’d either run away or been kicked out of his house for one reason or another.
Once Diesel agreed to keep watch over Little Man and then call Outlaw, he bought the boy a decent meal, some cheap clothes, and then found a motel to check into so Diesel could clean up and get a good night’s rest.
Little Man’s fever broke for a few hours and Bunny managed to coax him into eating soup. His cough was still really bad, but the kid had courage and tried to tough it out.
At mid-morning the next day, Digger found another restaurant, closer to the beach, while Bunny still slept. She’d had a rough night herself, but seeing her rest relieved him.
“Outlaw’s coming for you, okay, kid?” Digger promised, at the end of their meal, as they stood in the bathroom. If he’d brought Bunny, he doubted she would’ve stuck to the plan and left the kid. It was best that she was at the motel, asleep. “Just listen to Diesel until your old man arrive.”
“Okay, Dig,” he said hoarsely, his features tired and pulled down.
Digger handed Diesel the throwaway phone he’d purchased. “You fuck this up and you’re in trouble. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Diesel croaked.
“When I peel out, make the call.”
Diesel nodded.
Little Man sneezed. “MegAnn come too?”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t know if she’d made it or not.
“Bun-Bun?”
“Bunny’s fine, lil dude.”
“Her tired.”
Smiling, he ruffled Little Man’s hair. “Yeah, she is.” Pulling out his wallet, he counted the money he had left from what he’d borrowed from Gabe. Not much. Counting off five twenties and handing them to Diesel, he said, “Outlaw will give you more.”
Maybe, he’d even take pity on the kid and take him in, but Digger didn’t want to give Diesel false hope and mention that.
He headed to the door, where he paused. Diesel and Little Man stood side-by-side. Digger swore he saw more fear in Diesel’s eyes than he did in Outlaw’s son’s. He was so young, he didn’t know all that could go wrong.
“Bye, Dig!” he said, running to him and hugging his legs before stepping back and grinning.
“Bye, kid.” He offered Diesel a two-fingered salute. “You got this,” he said with reassurance.
He wasn’t sure, but he thought Diesel straightened just a little bit.
Sometimes, an encouraging word made all the difference in the world. He hoped that was the case this time around.
Megan’s eyes were clear and alert, although her doctor warned she’d remain in the hospital a while longer. Four days after she opened her eyes, Christopher knew the time approached when he had to explain to his girl that their son was missing. He hadn’t brought CJ to see her or called him on the phone, despite her repeated requests to talk to him. He’d hoped before he told her the truth, he would’ve gotten CJ back, but that hadn’t fucking happened. Bunny’s brother didn’t value his life enough to give Christopher CJ’s whereabouts.
Gabe lay in the meat shake, beaten and tortured but still alive. Christopher didn’t believe him when he said Digger had only come and asked for money and transportation. He felt it in his gut that he knew exactly where they were.
His patience had worn down, so he was grounding the motherfucker tonight.
“I’m feeling much better, Christopher,” Megan persisted. “Please bring CJ to see me.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned away from the window, glanced at her, peeped at the floor then up to her again. “Ain’t doin’ that, baby.”
She cocked her head to the side and studied him. His time fucking up, he had to confess to her. If only he know how. Apparently, he didn’t need to. Before he said a fucking word, tears rushed to her eyes.
“Where are they?” she whispered. “They’re dead?”
“No, fuck, baby! I swear they ain’t…” He closed his eyes, not sure about CJ. Drawing a deep breath, he focused on her again. “Rebel and Rule fine. Roxy, Zoann, and Fee watching over them.”
“CJ?” she croaked.
She’d fucking hate him once he’d dropped his news. The fucking idea that he’d fucked up one time too many torturing him, he started off with his decision. “Remember, I said I’m leavin’ the club. Turnin’ in my patch, baby. As soon as this shit behind us.”
“Christopher, where’s CJ?”
Fuck. She didn’t fucking want to hear what the fuck he fucking planned to do.
Yes, Megan pussified him, and right now he wanted to run the fuck away with his tail between his legs rather than tell her their son was… “Gone, Megan. Don’t fuckin’ know where. Digger fuckin’ took him, and Bunny.”
Horror twisted her face and she squeaked. Fucking squeaked like a frightened little mouse before her tears overflowed from her eyes and she c
overed her mouth, her blood pressure spiking.
He’d promised her he’d never turn away from her when they went through a crisis, but he almost walked away then, unable to bear watching as Megan went from grief to disgust toward him.
“You have no idea where he is?” she asked around her sniffles.
“After I got some fuckin’ order at the club, I came here, baby. Yeah, I’m a shit father, but I fuckin’ couldn’t fuckin’ think past any-fuckin-thing but bein’ at your side.”
“He could be dead,” she cried, and Christopher flinched, hating her sobs.
A nurse walked in. Not Lea today, but an older bitch who looked like she never smiled. “Everything okay in here?”
“What the fuck it look like to your fuckin ass?” Christopher yelled, startling the woman.
“If you’re upsetting my patient, and you are, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she shot back when she recovered.
“The fuck you will—”
“What’s going on in here?” Johnnie walked in and paused, followed by Mort, Ghost, and Val. By now, Megan had usually fallen asleep because of pain medicine, so they’d been discussing plans for Sharper in her room. Christopher still couldn’t be away from Megan for too long. Just like Mort with Bailey. While Bailey stayed in the hospital and, for now, her kid seemed fine, Mort wanted to be as close to her as possible.
“I’m calling security!” the nurse-bitch blared.
“It’s okay, Sally,” Megan called pitifully.
“He has to leave.”
“Bitch, you fuckin’ say that to my ass one more fuckin’ time and I’m fuckin’ tossin’ you the fuck out that fuckin’ window.”
He didn’t need her fucking bullshit with Megan so upset. If she wanted to leave him, he’d live with it. At least she was alive, but this cunt picked the wrong fucking time to push around the fucking authority she thought she had. He and Megan were at a critical point.
“Fine, Mrs. Caldwell,” Sally said, although Christopher wasn’t sure to what. She turned on her heel and stomped out.
“She know Little Man gone, Prez?” Mort whispered.
Clenching his jaw, Christopher nodded.
“Christopher?” she called in a tired sounding voice.
He turned to her. “Yeah, baby?”
“You’ve never made it a secret that you put me before anyone.”
“Fuck, I know and I fuckin’ know my ass supposed to fuckin’ prove that shit fuckin’ wrong when our kids in danger. But, fuck. Sharper still on the fuckin’ loose and he fuckin’ want you dead before he fuck my ass up. I been doin’ my business fuckin’ here, instead of tearin’ this fuckin’ town up, lookin’ for CJ.” He wasn’t about to mention using Gabe to torture information from. Even if the shit had worked and he’d told the fucking truth, she didn’t have to know. “I’m gonna find our boy, settle this shit, and then we ridin’ out, Megan. I swear.”
She swiped at her cheeks. “You can’t quit your club,” she said softly, shocking the fuck out of him. Blinking back her tears, she gave him a sad smile. “You can be so stupid sometimes and I’m so mad at you for not looking for our son—”
“Megan—”
“But I know you, so I don’t blame you for not looking for him.” She frowned. “If that makes sense. I love you. Whether you find him or not, I’ll still love you.” Her voice cracked through the words and her chin wobbled, but he saw the sincerity in her gaze. “And you love your club. You are the club.” Biting her lip, she looked guiltily at the others, then lowered her lashes. “I know a lot of damage has been done amongst the brothers.”
She didn’t know the half of it.
“You ain’t gonna love on me if I patch out?”
Rolling her eyes, she sniffed. “I’ll love you in any way you are, but what would you do if you leave the club?”
“Fuck, I ain’t thought about that. But I got a lotta fuckin’ contacts. I’ll do something with my fuckin’ ass.”
Hurt now clouded the lucidity in her eyes.
“I ain’t doin’ my boys right, Megan. Puttin’ you first and shit. Fuck, yeah, I love the club. Life come up with different shit for you to fuckin’ do, baby. That’s what the fuck this be. Me lookin’ out for my fuckin’ wife and…and children.” He hung his head. He hadn’t looked for his children.
“Okay, Christopher,” Megan said quietly, sounding as defeated as he felt before she gasped and straightened. Thoughtfulness crossed her face and she did her head-cocking study of him. “That’s it right there.”
“What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout, baby? What the fuck it?”
“Christopher. You’re being Christopher. My husband and my children’s father. Where’s Outlaw? Christopher does the mushy. Outlaw does the mayhem.”
“You ain’t makin’ no fuckin’ sense,” he grumbled, annoyed that she called any part of him mushy.
“Yes, Christopher,” Johnnie said slowly, studying her with the admiration that Christopher hated to see in his eyes toward Megan. “I think she is.”
Mortician shifted. “Yeah, Meggie girl got a point, Prez. For real.”
“I ain’t a stupid motherfucker, but what the fuck I’m missin’ here?” he asked Megan since she came up with her analyzing bullshit.
“The entire point, moron,” Megan snapped at him.
Yeah, she was one pissed lil motherfucker, but she didn’t hate him.
“It means Christopher the ‘family man’ needs to go sit down somewhere. Maybe, next to your wife.”
“Them drugs fuckin’ with your brain or some shit. You my wife and—”
“No, Outlaw, I’m not your wife,” she fired back. “I’m your old lady who needs her man to find their son.” She closed her eyes and hung her head. “Dead or alive. I just want him back. When his family is threatened, Christopher can’t do that. Outlaw can. Outlaw loves his woman and he loves his club. He’d let nothing come between him and either one of them. He’d say, ‘ain’t nothin’ but a thing,’ and find whoever hurt the club and whoever made me cry over CJ and make them pay. If you walk away, you’re letting them win. If you’d been talking about leaving before, I’d support you. But this is just a knee-jerk reaction to me. Life happens, Outlaw. Know why? Because it ain’t nothing but a thing.”
During the course of chewing his ass out, she’d sat up. Now, she’d plopped back down, exhausted, and winced. “It hurts,” she said, rubbing near where her bandages were.
“You through reamin’ my fuckin’ ass out, baby?”
Nodding, she closed her eyes. “I love you,” she murmured, wiping away the silent little tears falling again.
“I love the fuck outta you,” he responded, impressed by and admiring her strength as well as humbled by her devotion to him.
His phone rang. Digging it out his cut, he glanced at the unfamiliar number. “What the fuck you want?” he greeted.
“Mr. Outlaw?” a boy’s trembling voice asked, sounding at the fucked up stage, where the sound was starting to fucking change.
“I ain’t no fuckin’ Mister Outlaw, motherfucker. Stop playin’ on the fuckin’ phone. I ain’t got time for this shit.”
“Wait. No, wait!” he responded, pissing Christopher off.
“Want ‘Law, ash fuck,” he heard just before he would’ve hung up.
He dropped into the seat, glad it was near him, otherwise he’d would’ve fallen the fuck on his ass. Relief and disbelief battled inside of him. From the sound of it, the boy had CJ. “No fuckin’ wait,” he snarled, impatient to talk to his son. “Put my fuckin kid on, assfuck.”
“Yes, sir.”
A moment later, a sneeze and a sniffle greeted him.
“CJ?” Christopher asked on a swallow.
“Ohmigod!” Megan screeched.
“Want MegAnn, ‘Law,” he cried and he sounded as if he had a very bad cold. “Her falled.”
“Your ma right here,” he said, reeling in shock, the moment as surreal as the day CJ had been taken.
“Let me tal
k to him, Christopher,” Megan demanded.
“Hold a minute, boy. She wanna talk to you,” he said gruffly, turning to Megan and putting on the speakerphone.
“CJ?” Megan asked, hope and fear in her eyes.
“MEG-ANN!” CJ yelled.
“Hey, buddy,” she answered, laughing through her tears.
“Want home, Mommie,” he said, forgetting all about calling Megan by her name. “I got donut for you.”
She laughed and then coughed. It was contagious because CJ joined her. “Bet I know where?” she said hoarsely.
“Where?”
“Your pocket.”
He screeched with joy.
“Where the fuck you be?” Christopher called.
“At eatin,” he responded. “Dig say potty. He took Bun-Bun.”
At eatin? Where the fuck was that? He wasn’t going to think about Digger leaving his boy at the moment. That shit would come later.
“Put that fuckin’ kid on the phone, CJ,” Christopher ordered.
“Mister Outlaw?”
“Where the fuck you at?”
“At Port of Call Restaurant in Brookings.”
Christopher snapped his brows together, sure he’d misheard. “You in fuckin’ Oregon?” he asked with surprise. They weren’t far from Oregon. Unfortunately, Brookings happened to be on the other side of the state, right near the California border. About seven hours away.
“Yes, sir, Mister—”
“Boy, you call me that one fuckin’ more time and I’m beatin’ the fuck outta you.”
“So that’s where he gets it from,” he grumbled and from the muffled sound, he’d moved the phone away.
He glanced at his watch. Just after 11:00 AM. “I need your keys, John Boy,” he said, already taking his motorcycle key from his pocket and handing it over to Johnnie. “Yo, kid. Got any fuckin’ place you can bring my boy? It’s gonna take me a minute to get there.”
He didn’t need two children hanging the fuck around a restaurant for someone to bring in the badges.
“We can go to the skating park. He’s been having fever on and off, so—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Christopher ordered, seeing the worry creeping into Megan’s eyes. “He fine, baby.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 250