Page 55 of Rebellious

Knox nodded. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, “but I had to.”

“It’s okay, sugar—”

“I need to see Bailey,” Mortician repeated, growing antsier by the minute. “Scold my ass later, but—” He reached for her, intending to pick her up and set her aside, then go to his wife.

Shaking her head, Roxanne laid her hand on his arm. “She’s in a bad way, Mortician. You...That motherfucker has my baby in a bad way.”

Her pain morphed into anger and flashed across her face. Mortician stiffened, not needing identification for the motherfucker in question. He already knew it was motherfucking Johnnie. Low down fuckhead.

Kendall’s face crossed Mort’s mind. He didn’t want to bring her pain when he’d spent years trying to shield her from it. But her man was off the fucking chain. He needed torturing. Maybe then he’d fucking behave.

“Baby, I know you upset and want Johnnie’s head on a fucking platter, but this isn’t about him,” Roxanne said quietly, holding her shit together by a thread.

Knox joined her, helping to block the door and pulling her into his arms.

“Let me see her, please,” Mortician begged, anger and worry warring within him. “I promise I’ll leave my fucking bullshit in this hallway. Please?”

Roxanne eyed him for a few seconds. Whatever she searched for, he passed because she nodded between him and Knox, and they stepped aside.

Entering the guestroom, Mort halted feet from the bed. The statement headboard made of black velvet inlaid with gleaming brass designs over a wooden frame, was dark and intimate. Mort tried to talk Bailey into similar décor for their master suite but she’d declined.

She lifted her head, her gorgeous eyes far from lucid, tears sliding down her cheeks. Sniffling, she raised a bandaged hand and swiped her cheeks. He wanted to know what happened. Then she focused on him and narrowed her eyes.

Those motherfuckers were so goddamn droopy, they turned into two slits that must’ve been harder than a motherfucker to see out of.

“Go away.” Drunk-blind or not, she still knew how to issue orders. Slurred, but loud and fucking clear. “I don’t ever want to see you again. I want a divorce.”

Pain rushed through Mort, but he ignored it. One, he was a hypocritical fuckhead. He’d planned to announce his intentions to file for a legal separation. She was cutting out a step.

They both knew something needed to be done.

“You’re a miserable, cheating, dirty fucking dog.”

“I’m a lot of things, but not a fucking cheat,” Mortician growled, anger curling around his hurt and betrayal.

“I don’t fucking believe you,” she snarled.

“Bailey, stop it!” Roxanne ordered, stepping next to him and giving him a quick hug. “You’re going to fucking regret talking to this boy—”

“Shut up, Mama!” Bailey‘s tears were probably the only thing that saved her from Roxanne’s wrath. She snatched her attention from her mama and pinned a hateful look on Mort. Somehow, accusation still filled her heavy-lidded eyes. “I know I’m not enough for you, Lucas.”

Why had he even come? He should’ve listened to Knox and stayed his ass away if she was going to repeat the same old fucked up accusations.

“I’ve never been enough for you or Daddy. You always had to supplement me with Meggie and Kendall. He always chose the club over me.”

So many emotions rose in him, Mort couldn’t settle on one, so he rushed forward to take his wife in his arms and comfort her, swear to her she was, and had always been, enough. He expected resistance. He didn’t expect her to slap the fuck out of him.

“Like Mama Bitch, like Baby Bitch,” Roxanne snapped.

Even though his mama-in-law was taking up for him, she was still calling his wife and daughter bitches. He glanced over his shoulder to sidle a glare at her. Bailey clocked his jaw and almost knocked him off the bed.

“Enough, Bailey!” Roxanne’s sharp tone startled Bailey and allowed Mort to catch Bailey’s hands. “Hitting crosses a fucking line.”

“Fuck you,” Bailey huffed in a cloud of alcohol, struggling against Mort’s hold. “You spanked me when I was a child, Mama!”

“I’m about to fucking beat you. A more miserable fucking bitch I’ve never met. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Like you are of me, Mama?” Bailey glared at Mort, teary eyed and wet cheeked. “Like you are of me, Lucas?” she echoed.