Page 14 of Remiss

“Listento me, motherfucker.Listenfor once in your fucking life. Daddy paid bounties on motherfucker after motherfucker foryears. When he was killed, the American Scorpions didn’t cease to exist. When some of our brothers died,Iwas still alive. Daddy had a massive fortune. The club rivalled the Dwellers. I was Cee Cee’s heir. Outlaw wreaked havoc in every area of my club.”

“You’re wealthy,” Johnnie said flatly. “So, I’m right.”

“I’m lucid now. I’m sobernow.”

Johnnie shook his head.

“I’m a motherfucking addict, dumb fuck. How the fuck do addicts get their fixes?”

“With hits from the drug of their choice.”

“How, Johnnie? How? What the fuck’s needed to get a fucking hit?”

“Suppliers.”

“Do those motherfuckersgiveyou their merchandise?”

“Of course not. You have to pay.”

“What do you use to pay?”

“Credit cards?”

Bash slapped his face.

“OW!” Johnnie said, grabbing his jaw, too stunned to retaliate.

“You’re fucking lucky I’m in a good fucking mood, otherwise I’d shoot you for being a dumb motherfucker. Do the Dwellers take motherfucking credit cards for drug deals?”

“Are you insane?” Dropping his hand and ignoring his stinging cheek, Johnnie glared at the stupid motherfucker. “It’s mainly cash transactions. We can’t leave a paper trail.”

Folding his arms, Bash lifted a brow and looked at Johnnie with meaning.

“Not credit cards then,” Johnnie said resentfully. “On credit? Is that why you’re so desperate for money?”

“Ding-ding-ding. I needmoney.”

“For what?” Johnnie asked, truly perplexed. “If you need money to get a fix and you don’t have any, you get drugs on credit. If not, you go without. Which, in my wisdom, is the way to stop being an addict.”

“Johnnie, Iaman addict,” Bash said slowly as if Johnnie didn’t have a fucking brain. “I need an infusion of cash. Megan is standing in my fucking way. I want to fuck her, kill her, and get what’s owed to me. Isthatfucking clear enough for you?”

“Refer to my previous statement about Megan. And I don’t fucking understand how you get hits now if you claim you need money.”

Bash shoved him. “I’m not getting motherfucking hits,” he roared. “I don’t have fucking money!”

“You don’t need money for drugs, asshole, especially if you have an established relationship with the supplier.”

“I’m fucking done. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. When I get my fucking hands on Meggie, you better fucking run because you’ll never be able to explain why you knew and didn’t open your stupid mouth.”

“I don’t believe—”

Bash swept him with a cold look, turned, and stalked away with Easton trailing behind him. A few minutes later, the roar of motorcycles filled the silence.

Johnnie realized they’d conducted the entire meeting in the hallway and had never closed the door.

March 15th

When the year began, Rule Caldwell hadn’t imagined such a nightmarish turn for his life. After his mother collapsed, his entire world shifted. He adapted the best way he could, finding solace in the Bible, hope in the self-lashing and animal sacrifices, and friendship in the voices. As life grew more hectic, the voices were a constant that kept him company. They stayed with himwhen Rebel turned her back on him, when Mom devoted herself to Dad and her favorite children, and when his cousins and siblings looked down on him. But those voices led him to a monstrous act, a sin that guaranteed damnation and cast him out from his family, filling him with regret. And now, when he was bound to a wheelchair after his failed escape attempt at their urging, the voices had deserted him.