Rebel asked to stay home from school tomorrow to help Meggie prepare for the first get-together in weeks. She agreed but finagled another promise from her daughter that she’d take school more seriously and earn her diploma. It didn’t matter what the boys did.Rebelhad to secure her own future.
Later, Meggie would tell Rebel not to get her hopes up of ever being involved in the club in any way. Any time Christopher was having such a hard time understanding why Rebel needed birth control and not batting an eye at the thought of CJ’s sexual activity, he’d never allow Rebel entry into his male-dominated world.
Luckily, Meggie had time to get the right words together. She didn’t plan on bursting Rebel’s bubble with cold reality until after her eighteenth birthday.
Finished with their tea and conversation, Meggie put their mugs and plates in the dish washer. Rebel had homework, so she went to her room, leaving Meggie alone to consider her own advice.
Her anger at Nyx and her annoyance toward Christopher disintegrated. She felt much calmer. He and the boys would be hungry. The afternoon drained her, so she wouldn’t cook anything elaborate.
Crap. She’d left her groceries on the counter in the big kitchen.
Sighing, she returned to her seat at the island, rubbed her eyes, and folded her arms in front of her. Hopefully, one of the brothers would have the wherewithal to save all the meat. She just couldn’t deal with any of them again tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the next day.
A fundamental shift had taken place. She could surmise at the reason all she wanted to and she could be dead right about the cause. If something wasn’tdone, she foresaw years of misery ahead for herself.
Other than telling Christopher, theonlyother person who could help her was Mortician. He was much more reasonable, too. It was a double-edged sword, however. If the brothers and the club girls thought her too weak to fight her own battles, they’d hit her with continuous insults andassaultswhen she was there alone.
She sucked in a breath, soul weary. Shehadto get herself together, so Christopher would stop talking about adoptions and sweet angels and everything that distracted him from his club.
The level of disrespect she experienced today hinted at a deeper issue. Disregard forChristopher’sauthority.
Meggie pursed her lips. Whether Johnnie helped along this new attitude by word or deed, he was definitely responsible for undermining her husband.
“Moron,” she mumbled.
She tipped her head back, her eyes wet, her strength almost depleted. Tomorrow, she’d feel better. She, Bunny, and Reb would spend the day cooking and tidying up.
Tonight, she’d sulk. She’d let the brothers starve. Let Nyx and her friends cook for those wretches.
Fuck them.
A chuckle escaped her at the curse.
“You’re losing it, girl,” she said, straightening in the seat and rubbing her eyes again, surprised to feel her damp cheeks.
Despite her best efforts, the treatment from the guys hurt her. Her walk home with Rebel and their conversation eased her. Meggie was so proud of the young lady her daughter was becoming. She still had a lot of growing up to do, but it would come in time.
Meggie prayed Rebel wouldn’tneedthe effects of birth control. No matter the reason—misguided desire for a boy she fell head-over-heels foror, even more chillingly, because of a violent encounter out of her control.
Rebel hadn’t mentioned Kaia in days and Meggie’s concern that Rebel still had feelings for Diesel seemed to be the product of a mother’s worst-case scenario.
Rebel needed Meggie.Christopherneeded Meggie. She might not be an authority figure to her sons any longer, but they needed her, too. She’d give herself a few hours to mourn the affection she thought she had with Digger and the friendship she believed she had with the guys. Then, she’d carry on.
She brushed at her cheeks again, then stood, went to the refrigerator and opened it. Finding nothing defrosted made her scowl. Slamming the door shut, she opened the freezer side. Ribeyes were always a hit. However, they were a pain to cook on her own. Christopher and CJ wanted well-done. Diesel and Axel demanded medium rare. Rule’s preference depended on the day, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal withhismood. Ransom wouldn’t eat his ribeye if it didn’t have a cool red center and Ryder screamed bloody murder if his steak didn’t have awarmred center.
Then, baked potatoes were a requirement. Oven-prepared not microwaved. She couldn’t cook them in advance because none of the boys liked reheated baked potatoes.
Sweet corn was the prerequisite vegetable, salted, peppered, and buttered. They protested salads, but home baked rolls were a must.
Just thinking of all the prep, cooking, serving, and cleaning exhausted her. She slammed the door shut.
Breakfast for dinner coming up. She just couldn’t deal with anything else. She opened three cans of biscuits, steeling herself for the coming complaints. Her boys preferred all homemade baked goods.
They were lucky Meggie had a mother who demanded she cook, clean, do her studies, and take care of her. She’d had to learn early in life how to be a homemaker, a student, and a caregiver.
Dinah trained Meggie to live to look after her.
The smidgeon of resentment irritated Meggie and she shoved it away. Dinah did the best she could with the resources she had. She would always respect her mother’s determination to make a better life for them and for teaching Meggie how to multitask.
