Wildness crept into CJ and he started past Uncle Mort, intending to storm the rectory and beat the fuck out of Rule.
“Sit down, CJ,” Uncle Mort said in a voice that brooked no argument.
“Why?” CJ snarled, furious, devastated, and resentful. “It isn’tyourmother and little sister in the hospital because of a fucking madman.”
“You talking like I don’t know about motherfucking madmen. You know how many crazy motherfuckers fucked with my family? Rule far from that.”
“I beg to differ.”
“You can drop to your fucking knees and beg, CJ. Still don’t change the fucking facts. Take a fucking seat and cool off. I get you angry and scared and just fucking tired. It still won’t make it right if you kill your brother who need fucking help.”
“According toyou, Uncle Mort,” CJ said in frustration.
“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Sit the fuck down.”
Growling, CJ stalked to his chair and dropped back into it. “You’re just delaying the inevitable.”
“You really want to kill a kid obviously not in his right fucking mind ‘cause you feel guilty and like you failed Meggie and Rebel?”
CJ glowered at Uncle Mort, who folded his arms and lifted his brow in warning. Not only was CJ skirting disrespect of a family member, but also a club officer. He lowered his gaze.
“If you hadn’t gone to the club, especially if it was because you had to stay to protect Meggie and Reb, it would’ve createdmore bullshit all around. Rule would’ve waited for another opportunity and, perhaps, Meggiewouldn’thave been there. Rule might’ve succeeded in killing Rebel.”
CJ flinched at those words. Mom and Rebel were alive, so he wasn’t sure why he felt so overwhelmed and distraught. The sounds of Mom’s machines seeped into his brain again. For nearly twenty-four hours, they were his lifeline, the difference between sanity and relief and insanity and collapse.
“We all know if Rule had been in his right mind, he wouldn’t have hurt Meggie or Rebel,” Uncle Mort reiterated, always the voice of reason and a solid presence in Dad’s absence. “Why don’t you take a walk? Bishop in the waiting room, along with Grant, Ryan, and Rory. Talking to them a minute might clear your mind.”
“I don’t have anything to say, Uncle Mort. No one can see Rebel yet—”
“No one can see Meggie yet, either. It’s just us. Outlaw not leaving Rebel side except to come in here. He said once he talks to the doctor, he’ll feel better. I hope that motherfucker know to talkgentlyto your old man.”
Glancing up at Uncle Mort, CJ couldn’t help his smile at the grumble. “Dad can get a little emotional when he’s upset, but maybe you should see if Aunt Jordan can give Rebel’s doctor a head’s up? Take care in describing Rebel’s condition.”
Snickering, Uncle Mort nodded. “We don’t want the physician or Rule fucked up.”
CJ’s humor fled. “Speak for yourself.”
“I’m speaking for you, kid. And Prez. If Rule was always like this, then I’d help you to put him out of his fucking misery. He need our support right now.”
“Does he? Supporting him means turning our backs on Mom and Rebel.”
“I’m not going to keep harping on what Rule need, kid,” Uncle Mort said sadly, his eyes speaking volumes.
To CJ, it seemed as if he had so much more to say but held back out of respect. “Say what’s on your mind, Uncle.”
“It isn’t my place,” Uncle Mort replied, confirming CJ’s suspicions.
“You’re my uncle. It is your place. I see it in your face that you have more to say.”
“Supporting Meggie is more than eliminating threats, CJ. It’s more than going to a party or not going to one. It’s about respecting her and adhering to agreements.”
CJ didn’t pretend not to know what Uncle Mort meant. “I was young when I promised to graduate.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you so fucking old now. Just a geriatric motherfucker.”
CJ held back his glare. He’d already pushed his luck with Uncle Mort. “Circumstances change. Mom has to understand that. It doesn’t mean I don’t respect her and want to protect her. Even Dad backed off about school.” He wouldn’t tell Uncle Mort how his father also suggested CJ not join the club. He was afraid Uncle Mort might agree. “My dad is the greatest man alive andhedidn’t finish school. Eventually, Mom will understand.”
Walking around to the other side of the bed, Uncle Mort dropped into the rocking chair. The spacious room could’ve held two beds, but CJ wasn’t complaining. If he’d needed a place to sleep, they would’ve brought one in for him, although if it came to that, he’d curl up on the window seat. He didn’t want the commotion to disturb Mom.
