Page 7

CHAPTER SIX

T he next morning, a bleary-eyed Johnny Gun stumbled his way into the kitchen. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee guided his steps unerringly forward. He was exhausted. Throughout the night, ideas and outcomes kept popping up, and he might have slept a couple of hours, if that much.

He found the coffee maker’s carafe almost full, and his relief and delight were supreme. Furthermore, the same kind angel who’d made the coffee had set mugs, cream, and a dispenser full of fake and real sugar for self-service on the counter. He poured the dark, aromatic liquid into his mug, inhaled deeply, and, as the scent seeped into his brain with the promise of a quick shot of caffeine, he sat on the nearest chair to sip and let it happen.

Several minutes went by, and no one came. The kitchen remained empty, so he basked in the peace and silence, his preferred form of waking up. He wasn’t a night owl or a morning person; rather, he floated between the two worlds.

Once he finished the first mug and caffeine got his neurons firing again, he poured a second serving and walked through the hallway to the clubhouse’s front room. If his luck held, there would be no one there, and he could give himself a morning of peace and settle down. He didn’t expect to hear from Stew right away, maybe tonight. As soon as the Knight texted, Johnny G would have to go into action and choose a safe location for Isolde. This meant Barron had to be brought up to date.

Taking a spot on the comfy sofa, he put his mug down on the metal chest, propped a foot on top, and made the call.

“Hey, the man lives.” His friend’s snark was in full swing.

“Good morning to you too, asshole.”

Barron laughed. “How’s your future father-in-law? Has he figured out you’re in love with his baby girl?”

“Fuck, man. You’re on a roll this morning. Did Yoanni yell at you?”

“Leave her out of this. It’s me busting your balls. Now seriously, what’s the situation? Blade asked for an update, and I had zero information to give him. He’s worried.”

“With good reason.”

“Huh?”

“There’s snitch in the clubhouse,” he whispered.

“A what? I can’t hear you.”

“Fucking try,” he growled. “I can’t speak any louder.”

“Hold on.”

A long pause followed.

“Okay,” Barron said. “I’m in the bedroom. Yoanni had the TV on.”

“The MC has a snitch.” Johnny G repeated. His voice a bit louder.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope.”

“How do you know? ”

“Viper introduced me to Stew. He rides with the Knights. He’s the one who gave Shifter the heads-up about the chatter. Last night, he told us the Spawn have a rat feeding info to the Wolves.”

“Shit. Blade and Deacon have to know.”

Johnny G sighed. “Maybe bring Blade up to speed, but not Deacon. His daughter’s involved, so he’ll make a stink. We can’t allow that. Since we don’t have the proof we need to accuse the snitch, he’ll bolt or, worse, crawl underground to wait for his next chance.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m sneaking Isolde out of the clubhouse.”

“You are? Where?”

“I haven’t decided yet. When I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Dude, what the fuck? You’re a stranger up there.

“My new friend Stew is searching for several safe spots. The ideal place would be a secluded lodge in the woods. Good for a vacation, something like—” He jerked. The sound of heavy steel-toed boots on the floor silenced him. “Hold on.” Johnny G glanced sideways at the corridor’s entryway. Gomez and Trent watched him. Trent frowned, and Gomez squinted.

“Gotta go,” he said. “I have unwanted listeners. I’ll text you later.”

“Do that,” Barron added. “Watch your six, dude.”

“I will.” He ended the call and spoke to the men. “What’s up, guys?” Johnny G kept his tone cool. He wouldn’t admit their abrupt arrival had startled him.

“Leaving us so soon?” Moving closer to him, Gomez gave him a peculiar smile. “Are you bored up here?”

Johnny G dropped his foot and sat upright. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“We heard the bit about a secluded vacation spot.” Gomez turned to Trent. “Didn’t we, brother? ”

“Sure did.” Trent smirked, taking a pack of smokes out of his cut’s front pocket. He put a cigarette between his lips, lit it, and took a long drag. “Deacon swore you guys were defensive experts.” Smoke blew out of his lips as he spoke.

“Dude!” Johnny G waved his hand. “Fucking disgusting habit. Go blow your cancer smoke somewhere else.”

“Oh, dear. Aren’t we touchy.” Trent chuckled, but he squashed the lit end into the chest’s ashtray.

“Yeah, well.” Gomez frowned at Trent. “He’s right. I’ve told you before, cigarettes are gonna kill you.”

“Both of you, fuck off.” With an exaggerated huff, Trent walked toward the bar.

Johnny returned his attention to Gomez. A good offense was usually the best defense. He fired his first shot. “So you listened in to my conversation. Is that a regular thing for you?”

Gomez had the decency to glance away. “It wasn’t on purpose. Your voice carried, and we heard you talk about vacation spots.”

“And you assumed I’m going somewhere. What if I am? Ain’t any of your fucking business what I do.”

“I’m sorry, man.” A subdued Gomez sat across from him. “You’re right. We’re all very uptight with this Wolf thing. I heard vacation and jumped to the wrong conclusions.”

With Gomez brought down a peg, Johnny could put this going-away idea to rest. For the time being, anyway. In a day or so, when he took Isolde away, the whole thing would explode again.

“This can’t be easy.” Johnny paused to take a sip of his coffee. “We’re in the same MC, technically brothers, but you don’t know us. It’s hard to trust the safety of your clubhouse to strangers. Except for Deacon, none of you have spent time in the mother house, and we’re just as guilty of the reverse. Actually, I’m the only one who’s been here before. A few hours aren’t enough to build trust. ”

“I see our charming ways brought you back.” Gomez smirked. “No, for real. Why did you come back?”

“Blade told us about the threats to Deacon and asked for volunteers to defend our brothers in the north.”

“And you offered.” Gomez gawked. “Just like that? Hard to believe.”

“It’s what we do for each other.” Johnny G nodded. “Lack of faith is your problem. But it’s understandable. You’re fairly new to the MC lifestyle, aren’t you?”

“I came as a prospect two years ago.”

“Two years? I don’t get it. Has Deacon explained what it means to be part of a crew?”

Gomez crossed one ankle over his knee. “He might’ve mentioned it. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

Johnny frowned. The guy was setting him up. But if Gomez thought Johnny would step into the trap and openly criticize Deacon, the Dalton president and a Devils’ Spawn original… He was wasting his time. Johnny knew how to skip around the danger zone and respond with generalities.

“The Devils’ Spawn aren’t a bunch of scattered chapters,” he said. “We’re now a recognized organization throughout the region. Our brotherhood extends to the Florida Keys. The patch on your cut proves you swore allegiance to the MC, same as the rest of us. We’re more than a bunch of bikers who love to ride. We’re bonded to each other. In times of need, we offer our help, and we’ll go to war to protect our brothers in the MC. It’s our code. That’s why I’m here, and so are my Garden City brothers.”

“Wow. Beautiful speech.” Already into one of many beers, Trent slapped the bottom of his bottle against the bar counter. “Brought tears to my eyes.” He gave an exaggerated, hitched sob.

“Ignore him,” Gomez muttered. “He’s a sarcastic asshole but he means well.”

Johnny G studied the colorful man sloshing beer all over the place. Trent’s physical decor made for an interesting display: nautical themes covered both forearms, and he wore two gold hoops in one ear and a wide gauge in the other. In addition, a star, an anchor, and a thin tribal rope tatted around his neck shifted up and down as he guzzled his beer. Johnny wondered if this was meant to distract a casual observer from the darkness lurking within the man. He wasn’t fooled. Ever since he’d entered Deacon’s clubhouse, Johnny G had dialed his senses to full alert. To him, the darkness was plain as day, but he didn’t have enough time to fully assess the foundation, its meaning, or if Trent aimed it at anyone in particular. So he kept his assessment private.

Trent finished drinking. With a toothy grin, he tossed the bottle into a bin and went for another.

“I guess it’s five o’clock somewhere,” Johnny G commented before he finished his coffee.

“Always,” Gomez agreed.

“Good morning.” Sydney’s pleasant voice broke into their conversation.

But her announcement didn’t trigger the stampede in Johnny’s heart, the sudden exhale, or the storm of chills running amok in his system. The young woman standing behind her, with downcast emerald eyes he knew so well, had set him off.

Anger at his dumb and obvious reaction pulsed through his veins in time with his heartbeat. What was the matter with him? He was in Isolde’s environment. It would be logical he’d bump into her without notice, and he should be ready for the encounter. If he continued to react this way to her, everyone, including Deacon, would catch on to his emotions. They couldn’t afford such a stupid mistake.

Sydney continued speaking. “Guys, come to the kitchen. Isolde and I will fix you up for breakfast.” She smiled. “Johnny, you’re new here. We close during lunch, but will reopen for dinner. ”

Mug in hand, Johnny G stood. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not a breakfast person. Can I give you this?” He held up the mug, avoiding eye contact with Isolde.

“Of course.” Sydney took it with a nod.

“I’ll see you all later,” he said and left the room. Despite the temptation to steal a glance at his love, he didn’t. Johnny G didn’t care if the people in the room thought he was rude. Until he put the details of his plan together, he had to stay away from Isolde. He couldn’t allow drooling glances on his part to ruin the escape.

Twirling his long mustache between his fingers, Gomez watched Johnny Gun’s hurried exit. After all his blah, blah, blah about bonding and loyalty to the club, he’d left as if Sydney and Isolde carried the plague. Okay, so Sydney and Isolde weren’t MC members, but still…

Sydney appeared just as confused as Gomez. Her pretty blue eyes had followed his escape. Isolde didn’t. Not once did she look at the man. Her lack of interest seemed too cool, as if she’d expected him to behave this way. Wasn’t it strange? A prickly sensation traveled from the back of his neck to his shoulders.

“What about you, Gomez?” Sydney’s direct question startled him out of his thoughts. Evidently, Johnny Gun was no longer a concern for her.

“Don’t you want to eat?” she pressed him.

He pointed over his shoulder to Trent. The guy was half stretched over the counter, a third beer in the works. “Trent’s a mess. He needs food more than me. ”

Sydney moved past Gomez toward Trent. Isolde didn’t move. She reminded him of a beautiful marble statue, and he got the prickly shivers again. What…was that feeling all about ?

“You’re a mess, Trent. I want you in the kitchen, now.” Behind him, Sydney’s tone was clear. She wasn’t accepting a refusal.

“Mm-hmm,” Trent slurred.

“I’ll bring him.” Gomez spoke quickly, hoping to hold Sydney’s anger down. It was well-known in the MC she had zero tolerance for drunks. “Why don’t you and Isolde go on ahead? We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Sydney frowned. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yup. Give us ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes, and I close the kitchen. You and your buddy will have to ride into town for food.” Sydney rushed past him. “Let’s go.” She held the silent Isolde’s arm and kept on going into the hallway.

Slowly, Gomez stood and turned toward the bar. He’d expected to see the pitiful scene of his drunk friend, on his third, or was it his fourth beer, stumbling about and slobbering all over himself. But Trent stood erect and seemingly in full possession of his wits. A wicked light danced in his sharp gaze.

“Did you put on a fucking show for her?” Gomez accused. “Why? I don’t get you, man. What are you doing?”

Trent breathed in and dropped his shoulders. “Not so much for Sydney as it was for our friend from the south.”

“Go on.”

“Sometimes you’re too slow, dude,” Trent said. “I hate to tell you, but you gotta know, because the rest of us have noticed. Whenever Isolde is in the room, you drool like a dog, and your brain turns to mush. Every important detail flies right over your head.”

Fuck, Trent had hit the nail on the head. He lusted after the girl. A single moment didn’t go by when he didn’t fantasize about stripping her clothes off and banging the living crap out of her. Even now, his dick stiffened at the thought of plowing hard into her cunt .

“Am I so transparent?”

“You are,” Trent sighed. “Dude, you eat her up. She knows it. We all know it. Deacon’s the only one who hasn’t seen how you ogle her. And she is his daughter. Can’t believe he’s our prez. What a fucking fool. He deserves every disaster that comes to him.”

Gomez blinked. Trent’s tone held a level of contempt almost close to hatred he hadn’t picked up before today. “Hey, man. That’s harsh.”

His friend shrugged. “Don’t listen to me. I’m having a moment.”

“If you don’t respect the man, why not join another MC?”

“The thought has crossed my mind. For now, I’m staying put. I’ll admit, Deacon really gets on my nerves. Same as the jerkoff who left moments ago. He thinks he’s all that, and he’s competing against you.”

“Come again?”

“See what I mean? An important detail flew over your head. That man, Mr. Johnny Gun from Garden City, is after Isolde. But he’s cagey.” Trent shook his head. “He wasn’t expecting to see Isolde in the common room, so he left to avoid detection. He can’t fool me. I’m on to him. Last night, he showed his real colors. He melts when Isolde’s around.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Gomez whimpered, feeling miserable. Johnny Gun was a good-looking dude. He could attract Isolde’s attention. “I can snuff out his miserable ass.”

Trent laughed. “Not so fast. We still need him and his assholes friends to defend the club.”

“But once that’s handled…”

“All bets are off. Do what you want. I’ll even help you hide the body. In the meantime, we follow him around. But we move carefully. We don’t wanna reveal our hand too soon.”

“You better believe I’ll be on him. ”

Trent slapped his shoulder. “I should hope not. Now let’s go get some breakfast. With some luck, Isolde might still be in the kitchen. You can fantasize all you want.”

“Fuck, yeah. I can’t wait to get my hands on her.”

“What happens after you do?” Trent tilted his head with a curious expression. “Once you get your dick wet, will you keep her or toss her out?”

Gomez paused to think. He hadn’t visualized that far into the future because he’d never really believed fucking Isolde was possible.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I want her ass, but I don’t love her. Relationships aren’t my jam.”

“Okay, you don’t love her,” Trent said. “You still have time to decide. My stomach is grumbling. Let’s go eat.”

“Fuck, so is mine.” He took the lead. Trent’s heavy footsteps followed right behind.

Isolde went into the kitchen behind Sydney. As her friend headed for the fridge, she moved toward the drawers and took out placemats and cutlery, putting her trembling hands to work. Carefully, Isolde prepped the breakfast table for Gomez and Trent.

She didn’t want to spend another night like last night. After a lot of hesitation, she’d selected essential pieces to pack and the first stuffie she’d ever owned, the one she couldn’t live without. With that issue squared away, her anxiety took over. Through the endless hours, her active mind had roiled with disastrous what-ifs nonstop. Each outcome was worse than the previous one.

Johnny’s assessment that she’d lived a sheltered life had been on point. Although she’d grown up in the heart of an MC, her father had isolated her and Opal from the MC’s wild goings-on. She wasn’t prepared to deal with all this secretive planning, and her system was on edge. The most normal sound in her room made her jump.

Above everything else, she feared a moment of weakness with her father. He knew her well and might notice her tension. If he asked her, could she hide the truth? The only secret she’d kept these many months was her affection for Johnny. Then again, her father had been blind to her emotions.

The plan is for your safety . You’re the target , her mind had stepped in. As a much bigger picture opened before her, she grasped the full scope of the situation. This wasn’t about Opal, Sydney, her father, or even Johnny. Her life was in the balance. If she wanted to survive the threat, she had to fortify her attitude with conviction. The realization thatshe was doing the right thing gave her enough peace to sleep through what was left of the night.

Nerves returned in full force when she saw Johnny in the front room. Going deep into herself, she managed to shutter her expression, despite the boiling cauldron in her chest. The only outward sign was her shaking hands.

If she could hide them from Sydney long enough…

“I know what’s going on.” Sydney spoke behind her.

So much for escaping detection.

Isolde turned. Sydney’s steady gaze probed hers.

She found no judgment there. Nevertheless, she sighed, preparing to sidestep the comment.

Sydney cut her off. “Think before you lie to me. I don’t deserve it.”

“You don’t,” Isolde agreed. “But you have to tell me exactly what you mean.”

“Are you allowed to speak?”

“Don’t play with me, Sydney. Either you tell me what you know, or this conversation is over. ”

“I don’t recognize you, Isolde. You’re never this abrupt or determined about anything.”

Isolde huffed. “You’re still holding back. We’re getting nowhere. Gomez and Trent are on their way.”

Sydney gave her a soft smile and clasped her shoulders. “Viper and I spoke earlier, sweetie. He explained the need to sneak you out of the clubhouse before a possible Wolves attack. I told him he was crazy, and we argued until he told me about the mystery informant. I got really scared for your safety. We can’t protect you if we have a traitor in our midst.”

Gently, Sydney pulled her into her arms. “You’re like a daughter to me, and I want the best in life for you. Johnny’s guarded and private, but I know he’ll do whatever is necessary to protect you. Put your trust in the man you love. Go with him. You have my blessing.”

“Thank you.” She pulled back. “Your blessing means a lot to me. I am scared, though. This feels so dangerous.”

Sydney touched her cheek. “It is dangerous. But take heart. Johnny’s not a boy, and he knows what he’s doing. Do whatever he tells you. If you need a vehicle to get away in, you can have my SUV. I’m here for you both.”

“No, he wouldn’t leave you without wheels.”

“Who’s taking your wheels?”

Gomez’s voice froze Isolde. Sydney snapped her head up. “What?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Something about leaving you without wheels.” Gomez dragged Trent into the kitchen, then pushed him toward a chair. “Here he is. Like I promised.”

“Great. How do you want your eggs?” Sydney asked.

“But what about your SUV?” Gomez insisted.

“Huh?” Sydney leaned a fist on her hip. “Are you going to tell me how you want your eggs or not? Stop waffling.”

“Waffling? Who’s waffling?” Gomez asked, wide-eyed. “I’m confused.”

Trent laughed. “For fuck’s sake, tell her how you want your eggs.”

Hiding a smile, Isolde turned her back to the silly exchange. For now, Sydney had effectively twisted Gomez’s attention away from her and Johnny. That wouldn’t last long.