Page 139 of Ruptured

“I know,” he told her softly.

She finished her beer, grabbed her car fob, and got to her feet.

“You wanted to meet with me,” Mort reminded her. “Sit down and tell me why.”

“First, answer my question,” Digger said, choosing that moment to open his fucking mouth and piss Mortician off again.

Kendall laid a hand on Mort’s shoulder. “This town has grown too fucking much for you assholes to lose such control. I have enough fucking problems with Christopher, who has zero impulse control. Maybe, it’s time to pack the fuck up and move to a little town in bumfuck nowhere.”

She was right. The police department was bigger with two precincts on each end of town. Most of them were still in the club’s pocket, but not everyone. That had been one of the projects the club intended to focus on after Christmas. Until Meggie got sick.

“Is whatever you two fought over classified as club business or can I, a mere woman, know what the fuck happened?”

Internally, Mort winced, but he refused to show his reaction. “That’s not fair, Red.”

“The fuck it isn’t. You motherfuckers stamp club business on shit and shut us the fuck out.”

“Fuck my question,” Digger said crossly. “What you want, Kendall? Me and Mort was having a private conversation. So say what you got to say and get to stepping, so we can finish our discussion.”

“It was a public execution, dumb ass, so fuck you,” Kendall replied. “And you’re infringing onmyfucking time with him since my meeting should’ve started twenty fucking minutes ago.”

“I was late!”

“Do you think I care? You have no respect for me, Meggie, or your wife. I have none for you, so we’re even.”

Hurt settled into Digger’s features and his shoulders slumped.

“You want the sweet Kendall, come fucking correctly at me, or shut the fuck up. I have no time for assholes. Other than Johnnie,” she added without remorse.

Because, for all her changes, Kendall was still remorseless in so many ways. She was a fighter, cutthroat when needed, but always beautiful and brave, and Mort admired her deeply.

“Why were you strangling Digger, Mortician?”

“If I tell you, it’ll be a conflict of interest,” he told her.

A moment of silence passed as Kendall studied him and Digger before her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Jesus Christ, he’s fucked over Meggie in some way,” she breathed.

Mort clenched his jaw.

And, on top of everything, Kendall had superior instincts, almost on par with Outlaw’s. Her brain was spinning. Finally, she secured a swath of hair behind her ear and sat next to Digger again. “This can only be about money.”

“Red, baby, I don’t want to put you in the middle of this. You and Prez just got straight. It’s something you always wanted. You can’t start taking sides and hiding shit from him.”

She lifted a brow. “You’re his best friend. Aren’t you about to hide shit from him?”

It would be the only way to save his brother’s life. Resting his elbows on the table, Mort covered his face. “How much and why?” she demanded.

Digger cleared his throat. “A half million dollars and to build Bunny a house, then have enough left over to furnish it.”

“It would take more than that, Digger,” Kendall said.

“It’s why I gambled,” he mumbled, eyeing Mortician. “To increase the money.”

“No, you fucking gambled because you’re a jealous fuckhead and a dumb bitch,” Kendall replied. “You’re jealous of Morticianbecause he has everyone’s respect and admiration, so get the fuck off your pity party and admit the fucking truth. It’s the same fucking reason you ended up with Sharper.”

“I love Mortician,” Digger said, pounding on the table.

“Love is a fucking feeble emotion under the weight of having no fucking self-worth so try again. You used Meggie’s trust in you to go into her office and take her checkbook?” she asked.