Page 92 of Ruptured

Shoving Johnnie away, Bash turned and went for Tabitha again, but Celia grabbed his fist mid-swing. Growlingagain, he stomped to the counter and swiped every fucking thing off—coffee pot, mugs, spices, cannisters, utensils, and a variety of other things. Donuts, eggs, hot coffee, cold evaporated milk, a pitcher of lemonade, a glass of water, apples and oranges flew in all directions. Banging, clanging, shattering, spattering, and clattering.

Bash screamed, kicked the wall, pounded the cabinets with his fists, and then punched the side of his head. Sweat leaked from Johnnie. He’d never seen that level of insanity.

“You know what the fuck else is well-known, you stupid cunt?” He snatched a knife and lobbed it in their general direction, so fast no one had a chance to react. Luckily, it didn’t pierce flesh and instead pierced the wall near Cleaner. “Diesel.Dieselis known far and fucking wide.Dieselis a worse psycho than those three little psychos who pushed me in the fucking water.Diesel, Diesel, Diesel.” He kicked a cabinet door and then yanked another one off the hinges. “Any fuckhead…a fucking newborn would know to study your fucking opponent before you confront them.” He ripped another door away, his eyes wild. “I’ve spent years of my fucking life to get what’s mine and that fucking nut butter almost fucked it up in one fucking night.”

He screamed again before those pale green eyes found Johnnie again.

Raising his hands, Johnnie stumbled back.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“I-I don’t know,” Johnnie croaked, on the verge of sobbing. “Wh-who? Diesel or Tío?”

Celia blinked at him and frowned.

Bash screamed again. “Tío,” he snarled, almost foaming at the fucking mouth. “Fuckingfindhim. Drag his broke ass to me so I can stomp the fuck out of him.”

Snatching the handkerchief from his pocket, Johnnie mopped his sweaty brow, afraid to take his gaze from Bash. “Why me?”

Bash started toward Johnnie, his boots crunching on all the mess strewn over the floor. “Why you? You stupid motherfucker!” he yelled.

Jumping to her feet, Celia blocked Bash from getting any closer to Johnnie.

“Move, Celia.”

“No,” she said stubbornly, so unafraid of the insane motherfucker she turned her back on him and faced Johnnie. “You really don’t know why you?”

Unintelligible mumbles escaped Bash. Johnnie was beginning to wonder if Bash might be high.

“I’ll give you two scenarios, Johnnie,” Celia said, drawing herself up. “Maybe, it’s because you’re a fucking traitor. If you betray your own brother, you’d betray your nephew and deliver him to Bash. We all know if he tells you to jump, you ask how fucking high.”

“That isn’t true!” Johnnie protested.

“Watch your fucking tone toward my little sister,” Bash spat.

“The second reason he might’ve asked you to deliver Tío,” Celia continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “is because you can get to him without raising suspicion. If Bash tries, Outlaw might run across him and kill him.”

Johnnie had been too shocked at Bash’s behavior to consider that possibility. “Right.”

“Can I make a suggestion?” Easton asked, yawning as if he didn’t have a care in the word. As if he hadn’t been lusting after Megan just hours ago.

Goddamn.

Johnnie had brought Easton to the hospital under false pretenses and allowed him in on club secrets as a prospect he sponsored. The motherfucker had gone onto Megan’s private wing. To her and Rebel’s room. To the room where the boys were, not far from the stairwell accessible only to club members. And, now, Easton sat with Bash, so close enough to that madman he barely flinched at his behavior.

The enormity of what he was doing nearly sent Johnnie to his knees. Not for the first time, the thought of escaping crossed his mind. If he couldn’t get Bash back into line and control of this situation, running might be his only option.

As soon as possible, he’d create a contingency plan. Create an offshore bank account, using an alias. Check for places he might run to where Christopher would never think to find him. Stockpile Kendall’s meds because no fucking way he’d leave her behind. Whether she chose to flee with him did matter. He’d give her the option of going with him willingly to clear his conscience.

If she resisted…

“I think there’s a simple solution if you’ll hear me out.”

Easton words broke through Johnnie’s paranoia.

“No one asked for your input,” Cleaner said, his dislike of Easton undisguised.

“I want to hear it.” Celia patted Tabitha’s shoulder and nodded to Easton. “What’s the suggestion?”