to all be done locally. Now, the assfuck wanted international delivery.
Shit just wasn’t adding up for Christopher.
As he explained his stance to his boys at their weekly dinner, this time at Zoann’s and Val’s house, he kept one eye on Megan as she laughed and giggled with the girls a few feet away. Her smiles made him happy. In the days since she’d gone to the cemetery to do whatever the fuck happened on All Saints Day, she’d been so sad. Considering she’d also had to deal with the knowledge of that hell house, Christopher understood.
A week had passed since his conversation with McCallister, and Riley had just delivered his report a few hours ago. It just re-fucking-enforced Christopher’s decision not to fuck with the motherfucker.
The last bit of business until the new year was Digger. After that, Christopher intended to be a holiday-happy motherfucker. Thrilled all the bullshit was behind him, he’d put a no-fucking-motherfuckers-up moratorium in place until January second. Once the clock struck midnight and brought in that day, all fucking bets were off.
“Yo, Digger,” he started. “I know you and Bunny lookin’ for a place of your own. Tryna find shit close to the club. But I was thinkin’. We got a fuckin’ parcel here on the grounds that we can fuckin’ sell you. It fuckin’ mean you gotta stay at the club and she gotta stay at my house a bit longer.” He shrugged. “Unless you wanna fuckin’ rent a place ‘til your fuckin’ house built and shit.”
“Prez, you serious?” Digger sounded as if he didn’t quite believe Christopher.
“I heard you and Bunny came into some fuckin’ money a couple fuckin’ days ago.” The stashed money from Megan’s house that Christopher already had a buyer for. He wanted to unload it so bad, he was selling it well below cost. “I thought maybe it was a prime fuckin’ time to offer some land to your ass.”
“How close this fool going to be to me, Prez?” Mort pretended disgust.
“Close, Mort,” Christopher responded, then grabbed his bottle and emptied it of rum. “Between your house and John Boy.”
“Bunny!”
Bunny looked in Digger’s direction and smiled. “Yeah, babe?”
“I think our hunt for a place might be over. Prez offering land here and we can build our own crib. If that’s okay.”
“Oh my God,” Bunny squealed, jumping to her feet and rushing to where they sat around the home bar.
Wood and stone surrounded them in the two story room. Although the staircase to the second floor sat at the front of the house, the hallway on that level could be glimpsed from where they sat in the den. The wooden banister curved through the area, ending near the wall with the stone fireplace.
“You want a log cabin like this?” Digger glanced around. “A mansion like Prez and John Boy? A modest two-story like Mort?”
Bunny tangled her fingers through his shoulder-length dreads. “I’d like a cottage.”
Digger frowned. “A cottage? Like in Little Red Riding Hood?”
“No, Mark. Like something from a Thomas Kincaid painting.”
He rolled his eyes and nodded to Christopher. “Hook me up, Prez.”
“I’ll hook you up when you pay the fuck up,” Christopher retorted. “After we sign off on the shit.”
“Bunny, make sure you’re on the title,” Kendall advised, craning her fucking neck in their direction. “If Digger decides to leave, you’ll have a place to stay.”
Christopher snorted while Mort shook his head.
“Why would you put such doom and gloom on their relationship?” Bailey asked. Her and Mort’s new boy was thirteen weeks old. She’d taken this semester off from school to focus on her family. As her brother-in-law, Digger was part of that family, so she’d feel protective of him.
“I’m just advising her, Bailey. I mean no harm. Most bikers are unpredictable. Even Meggie was smart enough to make Outlaw put the house in
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