Misfit(190)

“Family is important to most of us,” Tracoli’s partner mused, then turned to the door. “Give me a minute.”

“Take a fuckin’ eternity,” Christopher called, hating Tracoli even more when the motherfucker balled up the sandwich wrapper.

“What can you tell me about the bombing of Sharper Banks’s church? Word on the street was you had beef with him.” He leaned forward. “We couldn’t pin that one on the Scorpions, you know? They bombed the Torps’ clubhouse, but were nowhere near the church. Yet, you’re affiliated with all of the above. McCall has expertise in explosives. It’s a pastime of his, isn’t it?”

Instead of wasting his breath and answering again, Christopher folded his arms. His stomach growled.

Tracoli offered a bullshit wince.

“Caldwell, there’s someone here who’d like to see you,” Detective Fuckhead announced, walking back into the room. He stepped aside. “Your wife.”

Megan stood three feet away, her eyes swollen and puffy from crying, her nose red.

“Get her out of here,” he demanded, glancing away from her devastation. He would kill Tracoli and fuckhead if it was the last motherfucking thing he did.

“She wants to talk to you,” Tracoli announced, ushering his smirking partner out of the room and closing the door.

Fuck. Not only didn’t he want Megan to see him as he was, if she started fucking questioning him…with the cameras on…Fuck!

“Christopher?”

Her sweet little voice sent chills through him. Though he wasn’t looking directly at her, in his peripheral vision, he saw her slide into the seat Tracoli had been in, caught the glimmer of her wedding set.

“Please, look at me.”

A muscle ticking in his jaw, he glowered at her, wanting to draw her into his arms when more tears rushed to her eyes. If she let something slip, he’d be fucking locked up for the rest of their lives. He’d never hold her in his arms again. “Leave, Megan.”

Fuck, but he hated himself for the hard tone. He’d make this up to her.

She reached her hands out to him, and it took everything in him not to grab her fingers. But they’d never went over what she’d need to do if he was arrested.

“I love you,” she said on a small sob.

He couldn’t respond. They were watching. It was already clear they wanted to use her against him. Now, her words were giving them the fodder they needed to hound her. They’d pressure her to give him up to “save” him.

“Talk to me,” she demanded. “Don’t shut me out.”

“I ain’t got nothin’ to say to you.”

Her lower lip trembled and more tears slid down her cheeks. “I’m your wife. I love you.”

Fuck, but she needed to shut the fuck up. What the fuck could he do? Then, it came to him, and his breath came out in his pants. Fear curled inside of him, but he needed to get her out of there. He couldn’t even send her a signal. They wanted his ass bad, and would use any small gesture against him.

“A piece of paper ain’t meanin’ shit, ba…” Not baby. Not here and now. “Meg…” Fuck. He knew what he had to say. Breathing in deeply, he leveled a hard stare on her. “Bitch,” he finally snarled. “A piece of paper ain’t meanin’ shit, so stop pretendin’ otherwise. They woulda done better bringin’ that cunt…” He searched his mind for a name. Kiera and Ellen were out. It was easy enough to find out they’d bit it. Same with Daphne and April. “Bobbie Rose.”

Megan’s eyes flared wide in surprise.

“What did you say to me, Christopher?”

He reminded himself not to flinch. He had to keep up his cold, don’t-give-a-fuck pretense, even though they’d just been through this shit with Daphne. “They shoulda brought Bobbie Rose to me. It woulda been better than lookin’ at you.”

That Bob bitch wasn’t still part of their group of girls, but it was the only name he remembered from the day the bitches had sucked off Mutt and Jeff.

“What the fuck you know about me?” he forged on, determined to protect Megan, but fucking shaking on the inside. “Leave, Megan, and don’t fuckin’ come back.”

His hunger, his thirst, his fatigue flew away. No fucking threat of being fucked up in general pop, no charges they’d dream up against him, came close to the terror inside him at losing Megan.

She jumped to her feet and stumbled back, staring at him as if she’d never seen him. Only Megan had the power to bring him to his knees. The disgust in her eyes as she considered him actually brought tears to his eyes, but he cleared his throat and blinked them away.