Page 57 of Ruptured

“So it’s exactly the same, stupid.” Axel huffed. “Even if I do get in trouble, Diesel is on retainer as my personal attorney.”

CJ bit back a chuckle, amusement and surprise mingling with his faint annoyance. “Since when do you pay Diesel to represent you?”

His green eyes widened. “I got to pay him?”

As intelligent as Axel was, it was easy to forget he was still a little kid, and unlike CJ, he didn’t have a mountain of expectations placed on his shoulders.

“That’s how he’s on retainer. You pay him a monthly fee for his services whenever you need him,” CJ explained.

“He didn’t tell me all that.” Axel thought for a moment. “You think he’ll accept five dollars a month? I think a dollar is too low.”

“You need to talk to him. If that’s the most you can afford.”

“I’m already ten,” he said indignantly. “Almost eleven. I get to have the same allowance as Ryder and Ransom. You think if I tell Mom I’ve donated all my money to a charity, she’ll give me more?”

CJ cocked a brow. “Have you donated any money?”

“That’s not the point. I need more money if Diesel is going to charge me five dollars a month and put me in the poorhouse.”

Laughing, CJ shook his head. “I had the same allowance as you do when I was your age, Ax, and I wasn’t in the poorhouse.”

“Because you didn’t spend your money correctly. Me, Ran, and Ry need money for our inventions and experiments.”

CJ didn’t like the sound of that. His amusement evaporated, and he suppressed a shudder, remembering the results of their previous shenanigans. First and foremost, PoopGate, a day that would live in infamy in the Caldwell household.

“What are you planning to buy now that’s so expensive?” CJ questioned, praying the answer wasn’t as nefarious as he imagined.

Stupid thing to do, because lately, none of his prayers were being answered.

“For right now, supplies for a bomb,” Axel announced, shocking CJ so much, that he stumbled. “And thanks to Uncle Cash being a stupid motherfucker, I also found my perfect test subject.”

Words failed CJ. He might’ve laughed if the seriousness of Axel’s face didn’t clue CJ in on the truth.

Fuck, preventing the explosion of their uncle became one more item on CJ’s ever growing to-do list.

How fucking lovely.

Alone in his office, Christopher swigged from his bottle of tequila. The clubhouse was nearly deserted, adding to the darkness inside of him. Most of the brothers were at the hospital out of concern, loyalty, or duty, leaving only a skeleton crew to hold things down.

After leaving the rectory, Christopher had intended to drive himself and CJ directly back to the hospital. However, he figured his boy needed a moment to decompress following their visitwith Rule. They’d eaten without incident. It had been peaceful. The boys watched videos, laughing at some, enraptured by others.

Christopher’s fear and worry lifted. He hadn’t dwelled on Rebel’s collapsed lung and Megan’s many injuries. Only Rule needing him matter. Christopher hated his boy’s action; he didn’t hate his kid. But he was so fucking upset with Megan, something he didn’t want and he was trying like a motherfucker to control it. It was so fucking irrational. His fear fed his anger and his anger fed his fear. He’d thought once Megan healed from Jo’s birth, got her surgery, and Jo finally came home, he could get his club back on track.

Fuck him, that wasn’t the case. One situation after the other cropped up. When he expected things to go up, motherfuckers went sideways; east, they went west. Each time an issue was settled, another arose.

Case in point: Rule. The moment he realized Christopher intended to commit him, his cooperation ended. It had been so fucking hard watching his son scream and beg, seeing the pain and tears in CJ’s eyes. Christopher almost called the whole thing off and allowed Rule to stay. Except that wouldn’t do a motherfucker any good, especially his kid. Next time, Rule might succeed in killing Rebel or Megan, and then what?

Christopher would be…fuck her! Nostrils flaring, he drank again. Annoying little pain-in-the-ass motherfucker. She’dmadehim love her and she couldn’t even do what needed doing to protect herself from a psycho cunt. It was why Kendall almost fucked Megan up so many times. She’d used the same MO with motherfucking Rule.

Growling, Christopher remembered him and Megan talking about committing Rule when she’d first gotten out of the hospital. What the fuck happened to interrupt that plan? Since so much shit had been flung, he couldn’t fucking remember. Notthat it mattered, cuz when they talked about it afuckingain, she said they’d get him help in the fucking summer.

How could she put herfuckinself in danger like that? She was so busy ordering motherfuckers and bitches deaths? She needed to come up from her walk in hell and return to fucking reality.

Whether he understood Rule’s psychoness, did Meganreallythink Christopher wouldn’t have riddled his boy’s body with fucking bullets if he’d killed her?Her, not Rebel.

Megan.

His entire fucking world. Who’d lost her motherfucking mind. What the fuck was wrong with her? How the fuck wouldshelike it if he suddenly sat the fuck down and not do a fucking thing untilshecame back to him? He wouldn’t be Outlaw or Christopher. He’d just bethere.