Page 135 of Remiss

That look turned into a death stare, but he finally stood and stalked to Celia. She started to slide the bag off her shoulder, but Christopher shook his head.

“Don’t make it easy on him.”

Christopher met CJ’s gaze, lifting a brow at his boy’s rage, pleased that his guard was so far down he was showingsomepushback. Motherfuckers shuffled, looked at the feet, glanced away. CJ was ready to take another swing at Christopher, especially when he tried to take Celia’s bag but she clutched it against her.

“I have a lot of personal shit in there, boy,” she yelled. “You can’t have it!”

CJ tried to grab it again, but Celia shoved him and he lost his grip.

Frustration replaced his resentment.

Ryan, Rory, and Grant bowed their heads. Mort, Val, Stretch, and Diesel looked on with concern. Some of the other brothers laughed.

“You’renotgetting my fucking purse, you little asshole,” Celia blared, throwing Christopher a hesitant glance. “Sit down somewhere and leave me the fuck alone.”

“I wish I could,” CJ said flatly, finally opening his fucking mouth. “But you walked the fuck in here with that big ass purse, Aunt Celia. You’re lucky Dad didn’t shoot the fuck out of you. Now, you either give me that fucking purse or I’m taking that motherfucker.”

Exchanging his gun for a cigarette, Christopher allowed smoke to pour from his nostrils, then said, “that’s your aunt, boy. Respect her.”

“Are we really fucking doing this, Dad?” CJ demanded.

Christopher pretended to think, then shrugged and nodded. “Yeah.”

Glaring at Christopher and snatching Celia’s arm, he marched her to the bar and prodded her onto the stool. “Can you bring us beers, Potter?”

The motherfucker looked to Christopher, who nodded.

“Uh, o-okay, CJ.”

“Let’s toast,” CJ said, once Potter handed them their beers.

The moment Celia relaxed and reached for her beer, CJ snatched that fucking purse, ignored her outraged curse, and stomped to a table, shoving Narci aside.

“Apologize to me or else, CJ,” he said.

“Fuck you. I have to check this fucking purse, Narci, and you were in my way.”

Narci opened his mouth, but Christopher cleared his throat and shut that motherfucker up.

“You know you making shit worse, Outlaw?” Val whispered.

Christopher pretended not to hear, watching as CJ pulled out two bottles of tequila, keys, a wallet, and a makeup kit. Without direction, he picked up the liquor and looked closely at the seals, impressing Christopher. Afterwards, he returned everything except the bottles to her purse. Once he gave Celia her purse back, he asked Potter for a glass, then poured a small bit of tequila from one of the bottles.

“Drink,” CJ told Celia.

Lifting her chin and folding her arms, she shook her head. “I don’t like tequila.”

CJ hesitated. “You can’t give them to Outlaw then.”

“I’m not taking them back.”

Another falter before he sighed. “I don’t want to make you sick, so if you won’t take them back, I’m pouring the liquor out.”

“Those two bottles cost nearly a grand. If you pour them out, I want my fucking money back.”

“Who told you to bring Outlaw a gift?”

“No one! He’s my brother. I don’t need permission—”