2
Little Toy Bikers and a Woman on the Run
Chapter 123 Inhaler
This was a fucking disaster. The ashes of Jax Teller's almost ex-wife had just been flushed down the toilet because he'd entrusted them to Wacky Wilda, her citywide nickname.
How the hell could he have been that stupid? There was a reason her nickname was Wacky. Drinking wasn't the worst of her problems. She was crazy.
Son of a bitch. Now, he was going to get the shit beat out of him by Jax—maybe worse. Wendy may have been an almost ex-wife, but Jax wouldn't be OK with her ashes being flushed down the toilet.
Skeeter reached for his inhaler in his back pocket. He'd been diagnosed with adult onset asthma three years after he started burning bodies. He couldn't quit his job; he loved it. For the first time in his life, he fit somewhere. He belonged.
He shook his inhaler and took the first puff into his lungs. He waited a minute and took another puff. He always thought of it as a miracle when he went from being unable to get air into his lungs to being able to breathe again in the space of seconds.
He had one basic decision: tell Jax the truth about Wendy's ashes or lie. He could look at it differently. Did he want to get a beat down by Jax or not? Suddenly, his decision got a lot easier. He'd just take some ashes from some of the other remains to refill Wendy's bag. He was the only one who would ever know.
He would tell Jax that he had given Wilda the ashes from someone who had been sitting on the shelf for more than a year. She was so drunk she never noticed the name on the box wasn't Wendy's. When she sobered up, she would regret her actions if she remembered them. It was the best solution for everyone.
There was a tremendous boom. Skeeter flung open the door and walked as fast as he could to see what happened. Wilda's beat up Mercury Marquis had jumped the sidewalk and crashed into a fire hydrant that was now shooting water into the air like a geyser.
She was trying to runaway, her face bloody from hitting the windshield in her pre-airbag car. She stumbled and staggered her way down the sidewalk until she lurched into a bush, fell and then crawled inside the bush to hide leaving her knees, ankles and feet sticking out.
Skeeter shook his head snickering. Wilda had just been bitch slapped by Karma.