She shook her head, much like Christopher had. “Where’s my potato?” she demanded.
Digger bowed his head. “At the club.”
“I have a medical kit,” she said. “What do I need to bring? How bad are his injuries?”
“He OD’d.” A sob escaped Digger. “He wasn’t breathing when I left.”
If Megan hadn’t collapsed in a screaming fit, Christopher might have. Instead, he ran to her and pulled her into his arms, trying and failing to soothe her.
Her screams drew Rebel, Rule, and the Triplets. Christopher couldn’t see to the kids because Megan was hysterical. He finally sat her on the bed and crouched in front of her because they needed to dress and get to the club.
“Megan—”
“My baby,” she cried, falling into Christopher’s arms and sobbing.
“Jo?” Rebel asked.
“I know you upset, Meggie, but you need to pull yourself together, so Prez can get to the fucking club,” Digger said through his own tears. “Nobody forced CJ to usewhatever.” His voice cracked. “The kid did it to himself.”
“WHAT?” Rebel screeched.
“What’s wrong with CJ?” Axel cried, panicked.
“CJ?” Ransom echoed.
Megan, however, stiffened, shoved Christopher aside and jumped to her feet. She stalked to Digger and thumped his chest. “CJ doesn’t use hard drugs,” she snarled. “If he took it, there’s another reason for it. And if you ever blame my son again, not only will I see you barred from the club, I’ll make sure you never see Mortician for the rest of your miserable life.” She turned to the kids, missing the horror on Digger’s face. “Reb, get Gunner. Boys, get clothes on. Be ready in five minutes.”
She threw out orders, tears streaking her face, her voice and body trembling. Christopher wondered if she knew what the fuck she was saying.
Rebel started to sob, while the boys silently cried. Digger continued standing there, still shell-shocked by Megan’s threat.
She continued talking, but the rest of her words barely penetrated Christopher’s brain. His checks were wet. If he lost his boy…
No! Fuck no!
He swiped at his tears, but not before the kids saw how upset he was. The horror on Rebel’s face. The way she stared at him, silently begging that he fix this. Yet, Megan was still moving, talking,sobbing.
“Megan,” he said hoarsely.
She halted and stared at him, her eyes so filled with pain it almost killed him. “My potato, Christopher.”
He hurried to her and drew her into his arms, allowing her to cling to him and sob, her pain drawn from the depths of her soul.
“You and our babies are my life,” she wept. “I don’t care about anything else as long as you, CJ, Rebel, Rule, Diesel, Axel, Ranson, Gunner, Ryder, and Jo are safe.”
Whoever supplied the drugs to CJ was dead. Taking his boy from him was a death sentence in and of itself, but to devastate his Megan…
To watch her stumble out of his embrace and make it to their kids and draw them to her…
Because despiteherpain, she was always his wife and their ma. She pulled herself together for him,them.
Christopher went to his family, to Megan, and wrapped his arms around them, drawing them close.
“We have to get to the hospital,” he reminded them.
Megan nodded as the boys pulled away.
“C’mon, Ax,” Ransom said, sniffling. “We need to dress.”
