Page 256 of Ruptured

“I understand.”

“If you’re asking me to cry, don’t. Please.”

“Meggie—”

“I’ve cried, Mortician. I’ve cried for my sons. For my daughters. I’ve cried because Christopher is an idiot and I’ve cried because your brother doesn’t think I’m worth anything. Especially not respect. It hurts.”

“You hurt. I know. I swear I do.” He was hurt too. Over Digger, Harley, and Bailey. But this wasn’t about him. “Other than stepping back and letting you fight your own battles, Prez still over-the-fucking-top with you. No matter what he say, he’s afraid to lose you.”

“So he pushes me away.”

“Meggie,listen to me, baby. You his everything. How you think he feeling knowing one of hissonsalmost took you fromhim? The entire situation fucking with him, but that? That’s about to drive him insane.”

Meggie frowned. “He wants me to gain a hundred fifty pounds and have surgery to lengthen my legs.”

He couldn’t stop the laughter exploding from him.

Giggles finally erupted from Meggie, and she laughed so hard, she began to cry. Mort wrapped his arms around her and she leaned against his chest, sobbing.

“It isn’t enough that you’re all touchy-feely withmywife, you have to put your hands all over Christopher’s wife.” Johnnie’s crisp voice swept over Mortician as he walked in from the mudroom. “Guess you need some female tenderness, sinceyourwoman no longer wants you.”

Meggie hadn’t seen Johnnie since his hospital visit a couple days before her release. Win for her. Unfortunately, he’d walked in today amid another of her low points.The jerk wasn’t happy without spouting hate and negativity. But she wouldn’t allow Mortician to lower himself to Johnnie’s standards.

The moment Mortician released her and jumped to his feet,Meggie stood and inserted herself between them.

Before she ordered Johnnie to leave, Christopher’s voice came from the other door. “Either of you motherfuckers throw a punch and hit Megan, youbothgettin’ shot,” he said, producing his .9mm and aiming it at Johnnie.

“To what do I owe the displeasure of your presence, Johnnie?” she demanded, folding her arms.

Christopher narrowed his eyes. “You been cryin’, baby?”

“I’ll explain later,” she said, ignoring the hope in his voice. “Right now, I want to know why you’re here, Johnnie.”

“I was invited. I’m still a member of the family and of the club.”

“I was at the club and asked him to come, Meggie,” Digger said, breezing in from the mudroom as if he owned the place. As if he hadn’t betrayed her, Christopher, Bunny, and Mortician.

Out of her peripheral vision, Meggie saw him grab the cookie jaw.

“Where my butter cookies?”

In hell where he belonged. “I didn’t order more,” she said.

“You said you needed to talk to me and you don’t got my cookies?”

“What the fuck you need to talk to this motherfucker for, baby?” Christopher asked, shoving his gun in his cut.

Meggie gritted her teeth. To savehislife on behalf of Bunny and Mortician, she should’ve specified the need for secrecy, though Digger wouldn’t appreciate her efforts. “It’s about an idea I had for…for…”

Crap.

Christopher walked around the island, glanced at Kaia, frowned at Bishop’s chef hat, then came to Meggie. He stopped inches from her and she drank in his solid presence. She hadn’t been so close to him in days.

He tipped her chin up and studied her face. “Why you cryin’?”

For so many reasons.

One of Jo’s lungs was congested. The doctor assured Meggie her baby was receiving the best possible care. She was afraid to tell Christopher, afraid he’d blame her for that, too. Or make good on his threat to give Jo away.