Page 162 of Rebellious

“If it’s because of Bailey, I’m sorry. Tell me where she’s at. I’ll go and talk to her myself. Or I can call her—”

“Stay the fuck away from my wife,” Mort growled, the first real emotion Christopher had seen from him that day. “As for Red, I can’t tell her what the fuck to do about her marriage. I don’t have that fucking right.”

“She listens to you more than she listens to me most of the time,” Johnnie said, skirting fuckheadedness again. “If you have any ideas on how to get her to stay, tell me. It’s the least you can do.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Mort jumped up and stormed to Johnnie.

He stood and narrowed his eyes, flexing his hands, preparing to punch or draw his gun and shoot.

Mort didn’t care. He thrust his face into Johnnie’s. “You fucking drove her to this, and now you whining like a bitch.”

Johnnie took a step back, his anger rising and mixing with his panic. “Back the fuck up. If you aren’t going to help me, leave me the fuck alone, fuckhead. Don’t think you know my wife. I love her. You just fucking pity her.”

Rage flickered across Mort’s face, the only precursor to his punch to Johnnie’s gut. It shocked the fuck out of everyone, but the second blow got everyone out of their stupor. Christopher, Val, and Diesel rushed to Mortician and pulled him away, before the enforcer fucked up anymore. Laying hands on the VP warranted a punishment.

“What the fuck was that about, Mortician?” Christopher asked, shoving him toward his chair.

Glaring at Johnnie, Mort jerked away.

“Sit the fuck down, assfuck,” Christopher commanded, needing to get shit under control before it further spiraled.

Anger blazed in Johnnie’s eyes. “I’ll ignore your violence in the interest of my marriage. Kendall would side with you.”

“’Cause Kendall got sense,” Mort snapped.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you!” Christopher ordered, addressing Johnnie to give Mortician a chance to cool off. “Mort right, motherfucker. You drove Kendall to where she at today. You asked me to talk to her when she stopped takin’ her meds, but that’s where your concern stopped. You wasn’t happy I let her call me by my name after complainin’ for almost seventeen goddamn years that she couldn’t. You wasn’t happy I named her as lead attorney when all she ever wanted was three things: her children happy, stickin’ her nose in club business, and your fuckin’ love and approval.”

Johnnie swallowed and bowed his head. “Maybe Mortician had every right to pummel me on her behalf.”

“You want—”

Christopher’s glower shut Mort the fuck up and he clenched his jaw.

“I was, am, jealous of her relationship with you, Christopher,” Johnnie admitted. “It feels as if I can’t measure up.”

“Cuz you the only motherfucker engaged in a fuckin’ contest, John Peter. I ain’t givin’ a good fuck. I’m happy with my wife, my kids, and my life. Megan a fuckin’ handful. You think Ima go after another girl, especially another motherfucker woman? My brother? My club brother, too?” Christopher added before he stopped himself.

Mortician glanced away.

“I’m sorry,” Johnnie repeated pitifully, stuck on those fucking words and not noticing Mort’s undercurrent of guilt. “I’m so sorry for everything. Help me. I love Kendall so much. How can I get her to stay? What do I need to do?”

With the situation under control, Diesel returned to his seat and gnashed his teeth together. Christopher suspected what the fuck he’d say since the answer was so fucking obvious.

“Uncle Christopher is right. She shouldn’t be away from her family. Tell Kendall if she stays, you’ll build yourself a house on club grounds and allow her to live in your current home. Tell her she is too fragile to live away from us but you want a fair chance to win her back.”

Christopher eyed Mortician to see his reaction. Normally, he was the voice of reason about Kendall and Megan, but he still didn’t say one motherfucking thing. Instead, he looked ready to pummel Johnnie again.

Johnnie blinked. “I always told her I’d take the kids if she left,” he said finally, a stupid motherfucker to the fucking bone. The shit Diesel suggested was so fucking easy to come up with, Axel would’ve figured it out immediately. “Her mental state would work against her. Wouldn’t it? She thinks she doesn’t need me.”

Diesel glowered at him. “She might not need you, but she needs us. Think about what she needs, forget your fucking threats, and you might win your wife back.”

“Thank you.” Johnnie sounded sincere, but a motherfucker always revealed his true colors when he thought he had the upper hand. “I owe you.”

Val stood. “I got to get home to Puff.”

Christopher snapped his brows together, picking up on an odd note in Val’s voice. “She and the baby okay?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Val nodded.