Meggie shifted from foot-to-foot. “For the tuxedos,” she mumbled.
“Come fuckin’ again.”
Yeah, come fucking again? “Aww, Meggie girl, you shitting me,” Mort complained.
“I ain’t gettin’ into no fuckin’ monkey suit, Megan. No. Fuck no. Hell no.”
“But—”
“No. Case fuckin’ closed. Only bitch I wore that shit for was you. I especially ain’t wearin’ a fuckin’ monkey suit for Kendall.”
“Please, Christopher. She wants a traditional wedding.”
“Don’t give a fuck. Understand? So shut the fuck up.”
Through with begging, Meggie narrowed her eyes. “Really, Christopher?”
“Yeah, really. Fuck all you doin’ changin’ my mind.”
Meggie drew herself up. “I see,” she said with a sniff, then turned to Johnnie. “Please deposit the money into my account. I’ll get started paying for everything tomorrow. I’m heading home, Christopher. I’ll see you there.”
“Meggie girl pissed,” Mort said after she stalked out, throwing death glares to Prez. He bypassed the glass and swallowed his vodka straight from the bottle.
“Can you talk to her about this money?” Johnnie asked when Outlaw didn’t respond to Mort.
“Nope. Take it from me, weddins expensive as fuck.”
“Maybe, when Roxanne heal up, I can marry Bailey in a church ceremony. Do like a big celebration,” Mort said, thinking aloud, the momentary diversion of Meggie interacting with Outlaw and John Boy gone.
“Don’t put yourself through this shit if you don’t need to,” Johnnie grumbled.
“You don’t need to, motherfucker,” Mort responded.
“I do. She told Megan the type of wedding she wanted at Bunny’s wedding. Once I heard what Kendall wanted, I couldn’t not do it. I love her too much.”
Mort couldn’t say a fucking thing. If Bailey wanted the stars, he’d find a way to get them for her, so he leaned back and drank from his bottle. “I feel you, brother.”
That shit said it all.
Dropping her towel, Zoann glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror, wondering how Matthew would like her bald pussy. She didn’t know why she’d decided now was the time to shave off her pubic hair that made him call her Puff.
She studied herself, focused on the grooves and indentations of the scars Cee Cee had left behind. Maybe, she did know. Maybe, it boiled down to simply being time to stop hiding behind…hair. That wasn’t to say this would be her brand new style. Nine times out of ten, she’d return to her neat bush.
But Kendall exposing her rape to Fee brought it back to Zoann, too. She’d moved on with her life, except with this. This was the last hurdle she faced. At one time, the sight of her damaged skin would’ve sent her into a tailspin. Not now. Never again.
She had her children to raise and the love of a good man. She also had a business to run and a cousin-in-law to keep in line.
Smiling, she picked up the phone and saw that she’d missed a call from Christie. He’d sent her a text instead.
Everything in place
Her reflective mood changed to excitement. Thank you for your help, she texted back. Val needs this.
At least she believed he did. Later, she’d strip for her and ask his opinion of her new look. Right now, she had a date at a graveyard.
Val walked through the wrought iron gate, wondering why the fuck Puff sent him a text message, telling him to meet her at the cemetery, of all fucking places. Not the best fucking place for a date, or whatever the fuck she’d label this.
In the distance, he saw the black granite rising from a grassy knoll. Recently added flowers and a bench kept Boss’ grave company. Although Meggie’s old man didn’t rest in the grave, K-P, Arrow, and Mort’s son, Tyler were, as was Kendall’s little sister, Carolyn. Outlaw’s second son, Patrick, was interred with his grandmothers, Patricia and Dinah. Outlaw’s sisters and nieces were in surrounding graves and…A lone figure kneeled in front of the grave where Patricia, Dinah, and Patrick were.
Puff.
Val wondered how often she visited. As far as he knew, she hadn’t returned since her sisters and nieces had been buried last year. Which made her request to have him come there even more odd.
Detecting his presence, she looked in his direction. The wind lifted her chestnut colored hair, her beauty sucker-punching Val as always. Every time he looked at her, he felt like the luckiest motherfucker on earth. Always had and always would. She’d been through hell, but never stopped loving him.
Deep within her, she’d retained a certain innocence and an innate belief in him.