“Nope. Why?”
“When she left all those many years ago, she was pregnant.”
“I heard. Definitely Snake’s baby.”
“I found letters hinting that it might be someone else’s child.”
Christopher heard that, too. It was how Mortician saved Hopper from Logan by claiming she carried Johnnie’s child.
Whatever the case, Hopper had come from a strict home with a fuckhead for a father. She’d ended up in a dead-end life because she preferredanythingover living with her daddy.
Christopher didn’t know if Hopper or Randolph was dead or alive. He’d searched for her to reward her for helping Megan escape, although he still intended to beat the fuck out of Randolph. He was the motherfucker who’d put the idea to kidnap Megan in Mystic’s head.
Swallowing, Kendall handed him the folder. Opening it revealed a photo of a girl about twelve or thirteen with gray eyes and blonde hair. He staggered back and fell against the desk.
“I don’t know her name, but she’d be about twenty-two or twenty-three now. She looksjust like him, doesn’t she?”
Speechless, Christopher dragged his gaze away from the photo and studied Kendall. The pain in her eyes made him close the folder and set it aside.
“I read some of those horrific letters from that passel of psychos while I was waiting for you and Meggie.” She shuddered and dug in her pocket, coming up with a sticky note. “Rory thought it was a long-lost cousin. See?” She waved the yellow square in front of Christopher’s face. “He doesn’t read the letters. He just sorts everything.”
“Kendall, Johnnie more than a little fucked up and death wishy—” A much simpler assessment than required. Motherfucking Johnnie was on par with Diesel. “But,” he said, shoving thoughts of his son aside, “Johnnie love you and his kids. Even if this girl alive andishis that don’t take anything away from you.”
Her lips trembled and her nose reddened, but she nodded. His phone beeped. He yanked it from the top pocket of his cut. It was an alert from one of his tracking apps. When he looked, he saw Johnnie heading toward theDonovan farm?
He straightened. “What the fuck?”
Kendall leaned over and peeped at his screen. “What’s the matter?”
Turning his back to her, he decided to check in on all the motherfuckers he was tracking. All of Megan’s were still stationary.Howfuckinever…
Mortician was on the move in the same direction as Johnnie.
What the motherfuck?
In his gut, he knew it had to do with Megan. Johnnie guiding Easton DeLuca into the club house rose in Christopher’s head. It must also have to do with DeLuca.
Anger, jealousy, and betrayal converged, andhe growled, then shoved his phone back in his pocket. “You found any fuckin’ evidence my Megan in danger?”
“No.”
“Bash ain’t pulled his claim that Megan own the club and the grounds out his ass. He got that shit from some fuckin’ where. What about evidence that Cee Cee has a stake in the club, and by extension, Bash?”
“Nothing.”
“Bash might be a stupid motherfucker whopretendhe fuckin’ scared of me, but he ain’t fronted the Scorpions for so many fuckin’ years without a fuckin’ brain. I feel like we vulnerable to that motherfucker.”
“Does that mean you’re declaring war?”
He thought of Megan again. Maybe, in another man’s arms. She’d never lied so blatantly to him and with a straight fucking face. Usually, she fidgeted.Stuttered. Couldn’t meet his eye.
So distracted with thoughts ofherwould get him killed. Besides, what the fuck was he alone supposed to do? Mort, Stretch, Val, and Digger would stand with him. But Mr. Bomb Expert Ghost? Mr. Blood Frenzy John Boy? He wouldn’t have them.
Cash supplied explosives and helped Stretch with monitoring the area and police scanners and interfering with camera signals. Val drove the van. Mort and Digger waited in the wings for cleanup and Johnnie served as Christopher’s backup.
Did he fuckup motherfuckers on his own? Scoop them up? Fuck, yeah. He’d once been the fucking enforcer. But when he was dealing with an entire fucking club? It was a club wide effort. Members fucked up any motherfuckers they ran across. Christopher andhisboys took care of the rest.
Even if he put the club on lockdown, he risked a mutiny because motherfucking Johnnie and Cash would complain the fucking loudest.
