“Do you want to join us, potato?” she asked CJ.
He looked from Ryan to Rory, Devon and Grant, as thrown by what had happened as him.
“Sure, Mom.” He didn’t move, though.
Uncle Val squeezed his shoulder, smiled at him, and brushed by, heading to the table.
“You in my seat, Reb.”
“They have four dead men at my table, Uncle Val.”
Axel followed Uncle Mort in, looked around the room, and sighed. “My men want to know how much longer do we got to stand out there, Dad?”
“You shouldn’t see this, Ax,” Dad said.
“I want to blow motherfuckers up, Dad. You think I don’t know how dead fuckheads look. It’s all part of my education from the dark web.” He scowled at Thumper’s holey body, walked to him, and kicked him, then walked to Dad and held up his fist. “Good job! That motherfucker was so mean to Mom.”
What?
“Yeah, boy, I fuckin’ heard,” Dad said, bumping Axel’s little fist.
“Don’t get it twisted, okay? I’m not Ran. I don’t give a fuck who you got to kill. Diesel doesn’t and neither do you.” He turned to CJ and smiled. “And neither does my other big brother. He beat Thumper’s ass and won. He’s real cool.”
“He is,” Mom said with a proud smile. She blew CJ a kiss, and suddenly, his world felt a little less dark and lonely.
“Welcome home, Mom,” CJ responded, smiling broadly.
The blonde at the bar was fucking hot, a newcomer to Bash’s clubhouse that had Easton’s balls throbbing the moment he walked downstairs to get food for him and Molly. She was slightly better, but not much, dying a slow death rather than the quick one Bash had intended if Easton kept his cock to himself.
The memory of that gross abuse killed his desire for the unknown blonde and he swept his gaze over the crowded room,finding Bash at his table. For the first time in days, Tio was there, still bandaged and wearing various casts.
Diesel would’ve done Easton a great fucking service if he’d killed that motherfucker.
“Easton!” Randolph called, also at Bash’s table, along with Cleaner, Wally, Jr., and his hulkish sons. “Come and sit with us.”
He wished the motherfucker hadn’t called attention to him. He preferred his room, stewing in guilt and self-hatred in silence.
“Come on, boy.” Bash waved him over, as usual ignoring or not seeing Cleaner and Tio’s hatred. “Now, Easton.”
Forced to obey, Easton pretended he didn’t have a care in the world and sauntered to the table, heading to the chair next to Randolph.
Bash picked up his phone and looked at the screen. “Cleaner, move. Easton needs a seat.”
Easton bit back a cough. Under other circumstances, Cleaner’s shock would’ve pleased the fuck out of him, but Bash was gambling with Easton’s fucking neck. Bash wasn’t always around, which was when Cleaner was at his fucking worse.
By the look in his eyes, Easton’s painful and gruesome death was imminent. Fuck it. After he’d been forced to fuck Molly, he probably didn’t even deserve to live. His mother would be as ashamed of him as he was of himself.
“Sit down, Easton,” Bash gritted. “I’m not telling you again, motherfucker.”
Cleaner started toward the chair Easton would’ve sat in. Not trusting that psycho, Easton went in the fucking opposite direction.
Bash drew his brows together, his pale green gaze shifting between Cleaner and Easton, until Easton sat the fuck down.
“You got a problem, boy?” Bash asked, pinning Easton with a look.
“Not at all, Bash,” Easton said politely.
“Cleaner?”
