“Much more,” Stretch answered, finding about as much humor in Val’s questions as Christopher. “Fee was pretty upset when she saw him. She cried most of the night.”
“You know anything about the argument her and Puff had?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Stretch nodded. “She was defending Cash. It pissed off both Zoann and Meggie.”
At the mention of Megan’s name, Christopher forgot his pain and his ears perked.
“Hopefully, she’s calmed down by now,” Stretch said morosely.
“She seemed fucking fine when I saw her,” Christopher grouched, still madder than a motherfucker.
“Not Zoann, Outlaw.Meggie. She threatened to have Diesel take care of Cash.”
Christopher’s eyes widened.
“Yeah, because Fee didn’t know when to shut the fuck up,” Val said.
“She was defending Cash and Outlaw, Val,” Stretch gritted. “That is Outlaw’s sister.”
“Ophelia went at Megan for me?” Christopher asked.
“She did,” Stretch confirmed.
“What Megan did?”
“What does Meggie always do?” Val’s grin widened. “Stood up for herself and you.”
“And threatened to sic Diesel on motherfuckin’ Cash?”
“Yeah, Outlaw.”
“See?” Val chortled. “Your woman still love you.”
“I just wish she’d come home.”
Stretch shifted. “You won’t let her kill Cash, will you?”
“Sheain’t killin’ that motherfucker.”
“I’m still so angry with Cash, but I love him. I don’t want him to die.”
“Diesel still a fuckin’ club member. Ima tell the motherfucker not to fuck up Cash even if Megan ask. For now. Hear me? He still breathin’ cuz of her. I don’t think she want me to fuck up family. Put that bug in Fee’s ear before she get that motherfucker fucked up.”
“I’ll try.”
Christopher narrowed his eyes.
“I-I mean I will.”
“I thought Mort was joking when he said I needed to come outside,” Derby announced, walking up to them.
Mort and Dez followed close behind. The president of the Scorched Devils had lost a lot of weight. The last time Christopher saw him, he’d been a jovial, healthy looking motherfucker.
“Outlaw,” Dez greeted quietly.
Christopher didn’t have time to educate a fuckhead on the dangers of club life. From the beginning, he’d suspected Dez and company were playing at the outlaw lifestyle. They liked the fucking aesthetics and wanted to dabble with dangerous shit. That was why Christopher hadn’t wanted to absorb the Devils into his fucking organization. They didn’t have what it took.
Not even to be a Burning Hound, and Derby’s club wasn’t nearly as hardcore as the Dwellers. Neither were they fucking playacting like the Scorched Devils, which was the reason Bash hit them. He knew they were vulnerable fuckheads. Now, theywere as much Christopher’s problem as they were Derby’s since Christopher insisted Derby patch them over.
