Page 30 of Ruptured

While CJ empathized, he still didn’t like Diesel’s words. “She didn’t die, Diesel. Her accident doesn’t change what you need to do for me to deem you worthy of her.”

“I resent that.”

“Resent it. Fume over it. Choke on it. I don’t give a fuck. Stop with your fucking pity party and man the fuck up, asshole. You almost lost her? Well, so did I. I want whatever she wants, except an asshole too stubborn and fucking arrogant to realize he isn’t only unworthy of himself but he sure the fuck isn’t good enough for my little sister, so fuck you.”

Hurt flickered over Diesel’s eyes before they hardened; he turned and stalked off.

“Fuck!” CJ hadn’t meant to go off on his brother. “Diesel, wait,” he called, though he didn’t leave Bishop’s side. “I’m sorry for my delivery.”

“But not the words, huh, little brother?” Diesel called. He was already near the nurse’s station, almost to the double exit doors. “They tell me how you really feel about me.”

“I love you, Diesel, but no I’m not apologizing for the message. Take Reb out of the equation. You need to explore the words to help yourself. You’re a good big brother, a good son, but a shitty boyfriend and husband. Even if I don’t like it, it’s your business. You want Rebel? It’s my business now, motherfucker.”

Diesel transferred his glare from CJ to Bishop. “Don’t get any fucking ideas. The only reason CJ can talk to me like he does is because he’s my little brother and I love him.” He left.

“Is Dad paying you extra to watch Reb’s room?”

Bishop lifted his eyebrows, but CJ wouldn’t address any of what transpired between him and Diesel. He’d just gotten Mom onboard–kind of–with the possibility of Diesel and Rebel, and now that fuckhead was changing shit. It was complicated enough with Bishop adding his two cents.

CJ mimicked Bishop and lifted his brow.

“No,” Bishop relented, seeing CJ wouldn’t budge. “This is part of club duties.”

“Babies are expensive.”

“Yeah, bro. Lola isn’t breastfeeding, so formula and diapers alone is ridiculous.”

“Mom likes to give some of the club girls who end up pregnant a bunch of shit. I don’t think she knows about Lola and I want Mom and Reb back home.” He rocked on his heels. “I don’t carry cash like Dad and Diesel, but if you send me the links to some shit the baby needs, I’ll buy it as a belated gift.”

“Thanks, but no.”

“We’re friends,” CJ argued. “It isn’t charity. It’s a gift from your friend’s family. Formula and diapers are essentials.”

“Are clothes?”

“Clothes?” CJ echoed. “Fuck, dude, clothes are a given. What are you talking about?”

“Nothing, bro. Forget I said that.” Bishop sighed. “Lola would kick my ass if she discovered I turned down formula and diapers, so I’ll send you the links.”

“Bet.”

Hours later, CJ still hadn’t seen Rebel, and half the morning was already over. Not long after CJ left Bishop, he’d gotten two links, so he’d ordered the diapers and formula, happy he could help.

“CJ?”

At Gypsy’s call, he glanced up and realized he’d stepped off the elevator at some point and stood in the hallway.

He looked up. Immediately, the ivory mounds of her twin peaks greeted him. She wore a bustier top with long-sleeves and a low neckline, one deep breath from exposing her nipples. Her tight leather pants not only revealed her lush figure to maximum effect, but exposed she wore no panties. She had a camel toe.

When he saw her at the mall in December, her hair was flyaway and frizzy. Today, the top half was scraped back. The bottom half cradled her neck in silky curls.

“You make an old woman blush, boy,” she said with a little giggle.

CJ smiled. “I didn’t mean to stare. Sorry.”

“If only.” She wagged a finger at him. “My tits are right in your face, there for viewing pleasure. We both know you aren’t sorry.”

He wasn’t touching that one, even if she was right. “I was on my way to the cafeteria. Would you like to join me?”