Page 6 of Ruptured

“I thought we had this talk, kid,” Uncle Mort started.

“What talk?”

“That you not Outlaw, youyou. Don’t live your life to mirror his, CJ. Nobody want that for you, least of all him. You shouldn’t want that for yourself. Great men only become great based ontheiractions. Learn from Prez. Follow in his footsteps but beyou.”

“I want to be the best club member and the best Prez, Uncle Mort. Like Dad.”

“For a long time, Outlaw only had the club. That’s not you and it’s never been you. You close to your brothers and sister. You got a momma with the strength to adapt to every situation thrown her way. The club not your way to acceptance. Fuck, you don’t even have to join the club if you don’t want to.”

Those words panicked CJ. If Uncle Mort expressed that to Dad, then Dad might decide he was right to think CJ shouldn’t be a part of the club.

“But I want to join. I’ve lived my life waiting for the day I can patch in. Harley and I used to talk about it all the time…”

A pained expression crossed Uncle Mort’s face and CJ’s voice trailed off. Now more than ever, he missed her. She should’ve been with him during his vigil, keeping him company and helping him through this.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bring her up.”

“I miss her too,” Uncle Mort said, the sadness on his face mirrored in his words. “Fuck, I almost wish I didn’t fucking warn you away from her. You fucking better for her than that motherfucker she with.”

“Which one?” CJ asked before he stopped himself, then winced.

Uncle Mort leaned back in the rocker and closed his eyes. “Either of those fuckheads,” he growled. “Ryan or Nardo.”

“I think Nardo got with her to get back at me and I believe to the depths of my soul that Ryan is the reason for Molly’s disappearance.”

“As much as I want to tell you, you not responsible for every goddamn harm that come a motherfucker way, I can’t disagree with you, although my take is Harley got with Nardo as revenge.But you closer to the situation and you know that little crusty motherfucker better than me.”

“Crusty, Uncle Mort?”

“You get the fucking point.” Opening his eyes, Uncle Mort sat up again. “Can’t start thinking of him as dead for at least another year.”

According to Uncle Mort. CJ saw it differently. He mightnotwait until that motherfucker turned eighteen. He wasn’t eighteen, so different rules applied. There’d been so many changes in the span of a few short months, which included how completely Aunt Bailey turned against him. True, it was because of Harley, but motherfucking Nardo had a lot to do with it, too. “For what it’s worth, I would’ve stood at Harley’s side and claimed her baby as my own.”

Pride and appreciation gleamed in Uncle Mort’s eyes. “You a good kid, CJ, and turning into a fine man. Bailey didn’t have the right to encourage Harley to pass off that motherfucker baby as yours.”

“She didn’t. I’m glad Harley isn’t pregnant, but I still wish they approached the situation differently. I’m so pissed with Harley. I’m jealous and hurt and furious. She’s mine…ours,” he amended. Harley would never be his again—if she ever had been. “We take care of our own.”

Leaning forward, Uncle Mort rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “I thought I was doing right by her and you. Maybe, if I’d shut the fuck up, you and her—”

CJ shook his head. “It isn’t your fault. I was there when Rebel lost her mind, and it wasn’t because of anything Mom or Dad did.”

“I know.” Uncle Mort readjusted his position again as if he couldn’t keep still under the weight of overwhelming thoughts. CJ knew that feeling all too well. “I just want to tell you howfucking sorry I am for what they wanted to do. I just… that still hurts me. You like a son to me and for Bailey—”

“But I’m not your son, Uncle,” CJ said quietly. “I mean no disrespect by that. I couldn’t ask for a better father figure. When Dad isn’t around—or even when he is—I know I always have you. I just mean Aunt Bailey was looking out for Harley. Don’t ruin your marriage because you think she betrayed me.”

Uncle Mort smiled. “You sound more like your momma every day.”

CJ glanced at his mother again. They’d made her become so cold and distant. Suddenly, he missed Dad’s sweet angel, too. Always ready with a smile. A hug. A shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen. Mom kept her opinions to herself in the interest of family harmony. He didn’t want these new versions of his parents. He didn’t like to think of his mother as unfeeling and his father as weak. Before long, everyone would feel that way and then what?

“Dad would give similar advice.”

“Don’t underestimate Meggie, kid,” Uncle Mort scolded. “Make no mistake, your momma a bad little motherfucker. Meggie throw fucking shade with the best of us. You think Reb fight?” Smiling, he nodded to Mom. “Your sister throwing down don’t just come from Outlaw. Meggie duked it out more than once in her day.”

“No, Uncle Mort. Mom’s sweet and kind. She’s fought recently because her back’s against the wall. Not because she has a violent streak.”

“You as bad as Prez, turning that woman into a fucking statue.”

“That isn’t true! I got on Dad’s assa few days agobecause of how much he takes Mom for granted, but there’s a reason why he relies on her to keep him calm.”