Page 50 of Remorseless

“Nope. Never had somebody to teach me. What the fuck that gotta do withyou? Your ma been tryin’ toteach you and your brothers.”

CJ leaned forward and rested his arms on the table.

“What’s up, kid?” A knot had formed on Digger’s hard fucking head. Other than that, motherfucker showed no indication Megan tried to fucking crown him. “You hungry, too?”

“I am, but I know how to cook,” CJ said morosely. “Mom, Lolly, and Aunt Bunny taught me. I was really looking forward to Mom’s food.” He shrugged. “I suppose I can prepare myself a meal.”

Axel scowled. “That’s against the bro code, C. You give us men a bad look. You got to call Mom and Reb and make them come and cook.”

“Little bro right, kid.” Digger nodded from Axel to CJ. “It’s not our place as men to cook.”

“Fuckin’ assfuck.” Christopher forgot his hunger and glowered at Digger. “What the fuck you mean we need to call Megan back so she could cook?”

“I didn’t say that, Outlaw,” Digger said faintly. “Meggie free to do as she please. But shedidtext the brothers and lured us here with the promise of a meal.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mortician ordered, always trying to protect Digger. “This shit not our fucking business.”

Elbows on table, Ryder pressed his cheeks between his hands and hung his head. “Uncle Digger’s right, Uncle Mort. Mom’s supposed to cook for us. She’s a mom, a wife, and an old lady. That’s her job.”

The agreement rising around the table and amongst the club members who overheard horrified Christopher. Only CJ and Mort seemed to agree with him. Pained expressions crossed their faces, though Digger fist bumped Ryder.

“Your ma more than that, Ryder,” Christopher managed.

His stomach growled again, and his annoyance surged despite his best efforts. Shecouldhave cooked.He was starving and only Roxanne outcooked Megan. Besides, shehadvolunteered tonight’s meal for the brothers, then got pissed and backed out. In front of that motherfucker, no less.

Christopher snatched his phone from the top pocket of his cut.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Johnnie drained his beer bottle and set it aside. “You’ll only infuriate her further.”

“Who the fuck asked you?” Christopher grouched, throwing his phone aside.

It didn’t escape him that he’d thawed toward Johnnie in the last few days. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because the motherfucker hadn’t taken any unexpected road trips. Or, maybe, because he trusted Kendall to help sort out Bash. She’d tell Christopher if Johnnie went off the rails again.

Or, fuckingmaybe, it was because he didn’t really have a fucking reason. Johnnie would be a stupid motherfucker now and forever more. Christopher either had to kill him or stopthreateningto kill him and just overlook his assholery.

Without a reaction from Megan, threats weren’t fun.

“I met with Derby and Dez today,” he said, changing the subject, hoping Megan cooled off enough to come and feed everyone.

“How’d that go?” Mort grabbed the last beer from the bucket Potter brought out. “We any closer to telling them to fuck off or patching them over?”

Christopher beckoned Potter for another setup. “The Devils on their last fuckin’ leg. Remind me to email the updated reports. Their finances fuckin’ wrecked. Members resignin’. Even their clubhouse fucked up. Pipes fuckin’ froze and burst.”

Digger lifted his brow. “They still claimingthey in danger?”

“Something not fuckin’ addin’ up,” Christopher admitted. “They don’t even have good fuckin’ killers. They don’t have a drug pipeline.”

“They have girls,” CJ said. “Maybe, they’re the key. If the strippers are profitable, would that make the club a target to bigger clubs?”

Folding his arms across his chest, Johnnie offered CJ a cold smile. CJ lifted a brow, grabbing a beer the minute Potter set the overflowing bucket on the table.

Diesel snatched another beer, too. “It could be that, CJ, but only if they make their bitches sell pussy.”

Megan hadn’t even noticed Diesel’s bruised cheek. The sour thought further annoyed Christopher.

“I don’t think their bitches high-quality enough to earn the type of money to put the Devils on any radar,” Digger said.

“Not like Dweller girls,” Diesel agreed, sipping beer.