Page 197 of Ruptured

“We can all breathe easier now that Meggie and Reb coming home,” Mort said happily.

“Before you know it, Rule’ll be back too,” Val said.

Christopher nodded, ignoring the unease stirring in his gut. He hadn’t heard from Wilcunt or Freya about Rule. His boy had been in California for almost four days now. He’d given them a pass for the first two days, figuring Rule and Freya needed to settle in.

Since early, Christopher had been calling the fat little motherfucker. Once Christopher got Megan and Rebel comfortable, he’d ride to the rectory.

“Here.” Christopher held out the bouquet to Digger. “I need a cigarette. You drop those expensive motherfuckers and I’m gonna karate chop you.”

“You don’t even know martial arts, Outlaw,” Digger grumbled, but accepted the bouquet with care. “That mean your threat baseless.”

Christopher lit his smoke before he answered. “How about if you fuck up my woman bouquet, I’m gonna shoot the fuck out of you? Fuckin’ good efuckinuff for you, assfuck?”

“Perfect,” Digger said weakly, ignoring the disapproval on Mortician’s face.

A whirring sound emanated from Stretch’s cut.

Val frowned.

“Why the fuck the fire alarm goin’ off?” Christopher demanded, tossing his cigarette since it seemed as ifmorebullshit was about to kick off.

Stretch took out his phone and looked at what the fuck ever. His bulging eyes and gaping mouth told Christopher it was even worse than he fucking imagined.

Stretch held up his phone and revealed a raging inferno. “The rectory’s on fire.”

Wilcunt’s ringtone cut through the shocked silence.

Christopher sagged in relief, which both shocked and annoyed him. No fucking way would he admit to the priest he’d felt a moment of grief while fearing the worst.

“What the fuck happened?” Christopher didn’t have time for pleasantries, especially now.“Lemme get Megan and Rebel home, and I’ll head your way to assess the damages. And why the fuck I ain’t got a fuckin’ update on my boy?”

“That’s who I’m calling about, Outlaw.” The priest sounded tired and defeated. “I don’t care that the rectory burned.”

What the fuck was wrong with that statement? Christopher narrowed his eyes. “Motherfucker ain’tburned. It’s fuckin’burnin’. Don’t fuckin’ tell me you fuckin’ set your goddamn house on fire for insurance, you crooked lil’ fuckhead.”

“Outlaw! I left just after 1AM this morning to head to Los Angeles.”

What the fuck was he missing?

“Why?” Christopher grouched.

“There’s been a development regarding Rule,” the priest responded woefully.

Christopher tensed. “What fuckin’ development. Where my boy?”

“He…the place he was brought to…Freya found him in a bad way.”

Horrible images rose in Christopher’s mind. A botched hanging. Slit wrists from an obscure object. “Is he…is he alive?” he whispered, sick to his fucking stomach.

“He’s alive, Outlaw. He jumped out of the window. Freya found him tied up.” A little sob escaped the priest. “He broke his leg and has a concussion.”

“Freya left my kid? I’m payin’ that cunt to keep her fuckin’ eyes on him at all fuckin’ times—”

“You willnotdisparage her,” the priest said heatedly. “She bears no blame in this. You’re the guilty party, so you’re lashing out. If you would’ve helped your son sooner, he wouldn’t have risked death by jumping out of the window.”

Wilcunt disconnected.

“What happened, Outlaw?” Val asked. “Is Rule okay?”