Page 8

CHAPTER SEVEN

B y early afternoon, the process of installing state-of-the-art motion sensors—courtesy of Shifter—all along the property’s path was well underway.

As Johnny Gun moved on with his work, he gave the landscape a thorough assessment. The clubhouse’s location was appealing and strategic. Anyone who didn’t know the clubhouse existed would drive past it. The surrounding thickets of pine trees hid the house from view and buffered traffic sounds from the city road. The private blue-green lagoon added a charming air to the property.

His new appreciation of the place might have been good, but in a bizarre twist of behavior, Gomez surprised him with sporadic visits, questions about the sensors’ reliability, the best way and height to secure them, and who’d be in charge of monitoring their operation.

For someone who liked working alone, Johnny handled the initial flurry of questions with patience. But the guy wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace. He was about to tell Gomez to leave him the fuck alone, when Viper sent the biker to the hardware store to buy more supplies.

The vice president’s timing was perfect. With his precious privacy restored, Johnny focused back on his job. As he tightened the set of thin wires around the next evergreen in line, he allowed himself a mental break from his pressing troubles. Inhaling a deep breath, he took in the crisp afternoon breeze, heavy with the refreshing scent of pine. Winter was coming to northern Georgia, but down south where he lived, summerlike heat would hang on to the last possible minute.

His thoughts shifted to Isolde. She’d grown up here. Would she adapt to the weather in the south? If she couldn’t, would he move north for her? Her happiness was everything to him, but so was her safety. Getting out of Dalton without a trace should be the first and only concern on his mind. They could decide where to live later.

He lifted his bag, moved four feet down to the next tree sitting at the edge of the path, then pulled out another sensor to prep for installation.

“How’s progress?” Axel asked from across the way.

Johnny glanced into his bag. “I still have five sensors.”

“You may not need them all,” Axel said. “Max is coming up to you. When you meet, the entire path will be covered with sensors. Once the system is on, there’ll be no surprise visits.”

“What should we do with the leftovers?”

Visoring his eyes, Axel glanced at the top of the gravel path where it opened to the city road. “Not sure yet. Maybe I’ll have Tank install what’s left on both sides of the road. Cover every direction.”

“Sounds good.” Johnny dropped to one knee next to the tree. He held the wires ready to install around the trunk. “Are you showing Deacon how to operate the system in the computer? ”

“I’ll instruct Deacon and one more. This guy has to be someone he trusts implicitly and is savvy with computer stuff.”

Johnny G exhaled a slow breath. Had Axel found out about the snitch, or was he just following instincts developed through years of fighting rival MCs? He hoped it was the latter. One more person aware of the situation was too many. The snitch had to be caught in the act.

“Viper fits the bill,” he said, and Axel nodded in agreement.

He finished securing the last sensor, almost at the same time Max finished with his.

Waving his bag, Johnny G shouted to Axel, “We’re done.”

“Has anyone seen Tank?” Axel yelled back.

“I’m right here,” the big guy answered from the side of the house. He carried a stepladder. “Motion lights are installed all around the roof fascia but need to be connected.”

“Find Pilot,” Axel instructed. “He’s our resident electrician. You come down here. I need you to finish setting up the leftover monitors along the road. There’s only a few.”

“Be right there,” Tank answered.

Johnny G held his bag open at Max. “Drop yours in here, and I’ll give the bag to Tank.”

“Sure,” Max said, upending the contents of his bag into Johnny’s.

As Max finished, Johnny G tied the bag, then headed toward Tank, who was coming down the path from the house. His phone buzzed in his chambray shirt’s pocket. During this job, perspiration was a given, so he’d left his cut in his room. He pulled out his phone. A text from Viper popped up.

If you’re not done, make any excuse & leave. Take the main road & ride past the bar. Two corners later, turn left on Sierra. Enter Inkjunction tattoo parlor on your right. C U there.

I’ll be there ASAP.

Luck was on his side. He was finished with the sensors and his new shadow hadn’t returned. A doubt crept into his mind. He texted Viper again.

Where is the tattoo parlor?

LOL. I sent Gomez in the opposite direction. Hurry. Before the nosy bitch returns.

Johnny G chuckled to himself. The slippery Dalton vice president showed another humorous facet of his personality. Dude played the game well. He must have noticed Gomez’s interest in Johnny G and got rid of him with a perfect excuse.

As he trod down the path to give Tank the bag, he called out to Axel, “If you don’t need me, I’m going out for a ride.”

“Sure. I don’t need you to instruct Deacon,” Axel said. “Go have fun.”

Johnny G waved, passed the bag of sensors to Tank, and hurried to the house. He fled into his bedroom, changed shirts, and put on his cut.

As he exited into the hallway, Isolde approached from the kitchen. Though his heart vaulted, he kept his composure. Still, he couldn’t stop his eyes from probing deeply into hers. Lord, his emotions overflowed… But a strange tenseness in her posture put him on edge.

What’s wrong? He nearly asked out loud. Her eyes shifted sideways, and he followed her direction. Trent had just entered the hallway. He walked several feet behind her.

Johnny Gun shut his expression down.

“Wearing colors?” Trent asked, his tone fairly jovial. A departure from his regular gruff attitude .

“Yup.”

Johnny G and Isolde walked past each other as if neither one existed.

“Going into town?” Trent continued. His smile turned to a sneer.

He shrugged. “Haven’t decided yet.”

“Want company? I can show you around.”

Grinning, Johnny G scratched his earlobe. “Nah. Thanks for the offer. I’m a solo rider at heart. It’s my jam. Ask around. My brothers will agree.”

“You should be careful. A solo rider is an easy target.”

“If the rider is unprepared, maybe. But I’m not.” As he spoke, he pulled out his SIG from the back of his jeans, then pointed the muzzle to the ceiling. “And there’s always one in the chamber.”

“Whoa.” Taking a backward step, Trent held up his hands. “Easy, cowboy.”

“No worries. The military trained me well.” He returned the pistol to the holster in the back of his waistband and dropped his shirt over it. “A brother has nothing to worry about from me. I’ll see ya.” He moved past Trent, then exited the clubhouse at a moderate pace. He didn’t want to appear either rushed or too casual to the man watching him.

Johnny’s thoughts churned with suspicion and concern. He didn’t want to see danger wherever he looked, but Isolde had expressed a silent warning. Gomez had disliked him from the start, and Trent, being a close friend, acted the same way. This sudden friendliness and interest in his comings and goings didn’t sit right with him.

One would think both men were following him around.

As he got on his bike, he sent the promised text to Barron.

On my way to meet my new contact for safehouses.

Barron answered immediately.

I’ve got an idea. Thank him for his help—big-time. Don’t choose a place until you speak to me again.

Johnny Gun frowned.

What r u thinking?

A way to throw everyone off your trail. Call me from your room.

Nodding, he typed back.

Will do.

He dropped his phone into the pocket of his cut and rode off with conflicting thoughts. He couldn’t imagine what Barron had in mind.

Johnny Gun found Inkjunction without a hitch. The vice president’s directions took him straight to the street. As he slowed, looking for somewhere to park, he understood Viper’s genius. A sign on the front sent customers around the back of the establishment. Furthermore, Inkjunction’s corner location offered a semi-private L-shaped parking garage. The narrow entrance on the side street turned left to a wider space, where a smattering of pickup trucks and a couple of bikes indicated the place wasn’t busy. Johnny G parked next to Viper’s bike and dismounted. He strode toward a back door, but found it locked, so he went around the front. He walked into a surprisingly bright and cheerful reception room. A young man manning the desk lifted his head from reading his laptop, studied Johnny’s cut, and smiled .

“They’re waiting for you. Go straight to the end and knock on Toby’s door.”

“Thanks.” He headed toward the back of the parlor. He passed several artists’ stations. Three were busy with the artist, customer, and an emotional support friend, he supposed, and the rest were empty.

He knocked on the door with the red letters, and Viper answered from inside. “Come in.”

Johnny Gun opened the door and stopped. A gorgeous blonde woman—age undetermined—with stunning curves sat at the edge of a polished mahogany desk. She wore skintight black latex slacks and strappy high heels. One foot was propped on Viper’s lap. Her blood-red leather bustier had difficulty containing her ample breasts. An intricate mandala tattoo covered her right shoulder, and a slightly different version of the shoulder design, decorated her left forearm.

Massaging her ankle, Viper laughed. “I think we’ve shocked him.”

“Um,” Johnny blubbered, feeling utterly silly. This woman and Viper were the only two people in the room, so she had to be Toby.

“Welcome, Johnny Gun.” Toby’s voice had a soft, pleasant sound. “Take a seat. Make yourself at home.” Slowly, she extricated her ankle from Viper’s fingers and stood. displaying her hourglass figure and full height. In those heels, she had to be close to six feet.

“Forgive me,” Johnny G said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I made a dumb assumption, and y’all know what assuming does.”

She sashayed to his side and cupped his cheek. Her gaze was almost level with his. “Don’t you worry your little heart, darlin’. You’re not the first person who’s made the mistake, and I’m positive you won’t be the last.” Smiling, she dropped her hand. “Actually, I enjoy flustering men. They’re so cute. ’Sides, that gives me an advantage I never waste. ”

“FYI,” Viper said, “Toby’s parlor is MC-neutral territory. Inkjunction serves all clubs, and everyone respects her neutrality.”

“I have my special guys, though,” she purred at Viper. Johnny almost laughedwhen the rough-looking vice president blushed.

“Okay, I’ll leave you guys to speak in private.” She opened the office door.

“Oh please, don’t leave on my account,” Johnny G said.

“It’s fine.” Her dark eyes beamed. “I hold surprise inspections. It keeps everyone honest.” Flicking her fingers their way, she walked out.

“Jesus,” Johnny whispered.

“Uh-huh,” Viper added.

“The truth is, I was expecting to find you, Stew, and a tough and burly Mr. Toby in the office, not most men’s fantasy woman alive and in the flesh.”

“I understand. I see it happen all the time.” Viper sighed. “She really gets a kick out of it, especially when some idiot takes her for a bimbo. Toby’s sharp as a tack. You underestimate her at your peril.”

“And you’re crazy about her.” Johnny winked.

“I’d put a ring on her fingertomorrow if she’d take me. But she loves being unattached, and I can’t stop coming back begging for any attention she’s willing to give me.” Viper was in love, and his dejection was real.

“Keep trying, dude. Maybe one day, you’ll weaken her resolve. Meanwhile, you told me to come. What’s up?”

“Oh, right.” Viper sat up. “I have it here somewhere.” He patted through his cut. “Hold on.” He dug into a side pocket and smiled. “Here it is.” He pulled out a folded paper, passed it over to Johnny, and fell back into his chair.

“Where’s Stew? I thought he’d be here.”

“Stew couldn’t come because Rover, the Wolves’ prez, requested a conference with Josh, the Knights’ prez. They’re meeting at an inn near the Knights’ clubhouse. Each president brought their Enforcer to the discussion and no other member.”

“Tense situation,” Johnny said, unfolding the paper.

“They’re being careful. The Wolves and Knights aren’t rival clubs, but it doesn’t take much to start a brawl between crews. You know that.”

“Fuck, yeah. A wrong word or a bad look and it’s on. Rover can’t afford a fight. It’s a safe bet he’s asking Josh for help against our MC.”

“I think Rover’s presenting his case to the Knights prez before he moves against us. He needs them to stay on the sidelines, so he’ll promise or offer anything to stay on Josh’s good side to keep the peace between their MCs.”

“I don’t understand. What makes Rover think the Knights would get involved? They don’t have a dog in this fight.”

“Not directly, no.” Viper folded his arms. “Though the Dalton Spawn and the Knights aren’t allies, we’ve enjoyed a respectful relationship. Live and let live kind of thing. We’re also close to each other. Thirty minutes’ ride, more or less. Rover knows he’s bringing war to the edge of the Knights’ territory. It might put them on edge.”

“And Josh could side with us. I mean, why would an Alabama MC disrupt the peace over an old feud between Rover and Deacon?”

Viper frowned. “The offense is recent. Deacon is my prez, and I’m loyal to him, but I don’t hold back. What he did in Garden City was fucked up. Turning a Wolf in to the feds was more than a dickhead move. He stirred up the old shit, and now he’s put a target on Isolde’s back.” He pointed at the note. “So, anything good in that list?”

Johnny read the addresses. Stew had been thorough. He’d written down eight locations with side notes explaining the distance from the Spawn clubhouse. Some were just outside the Dalton area, a couple more were near Chatsworth, east of Dalton, and the rest were in Tennessee, not far from the Knights’ clubhouse. Barron’s advice popped into his mind.

“These are great,” Johnny said. “I wish I could thank Stew in person. When you see him, please let him know I really appreciate his help.”

“Just so you know, I didn’t read the list or check the places Stew recommended.” Viper pointed at the paper. “I really don’t want to know. This is your choice. I’ll only help you decide if you want my opinion.”

“Thanks again.” Johnny folded the paper into his front pocket. “I’ll go back to the clubhouse, check out the locations on my phone, and make a decision.”

“Don’t take long. You don’t have much time.”

“I hear you.”

Viper rose to his feet and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Remember this, Rover’s chomping at the bit to attack. Once his meeting with Josh is over, he’ll be on us.”

“And we’ll be long gone.”

When Johnny returned, dusk had already darkened the gravel path to the clubhouse to a blur, and the outside work had ceased. He turned on the bike’s headlamp, wondering how long it would be before the perimeter lights would turn night into day. This first security circle was set up to work at the slightest movement. Any meandering creature could trigger it. Yet he was halfway down the path, and not a single light had turned on.

Could he be that lucky? He could use a break. If the system had a glitch somewhere, he wouldn’t have to sneak around later to disconnect it. Darkness was essential for a successful escape with Isolde .

As he entered the communal front room, he understood the absence of lights. It wasn’t armed yet. Axel and Deacon had converted the bar shelf into a makeshift instruction area. Axel explained step by step how it worked, while Deacon listened and asked questions. As they stared at the laptop screen with confused expressions, their vexed voices carried outward.

Meanwhile, his guys and the Dalton crew, lounging on the sofa, watched a football game without a care in the world. Not a single guy showed a bit of interest in learning how to arm and disarm the sensor system or learn how to monitor a hostile invasion.

Perfect. The stage was set. Time to make a bullshit scene.

Shaking his head, he blocked the TV screen.

“You’re in the way.” Ghost, the road captain, waved at him.

“What a bunch of lazy fucks,” he growled. “Do all of you know how to operate the system? What’re you going to do if Deacon or Axel fall?”

“We’ll have you,” Gomez drawled. “I’m told you’re one of the specialists.”

“I could be hurt. What then?”

“Made your point, dude.” Ghost left the sofa. Jax and Major went with him.

Johnny locked gazes with Gomez. “When the shit flies, you’re on your own. Got me?”

Gomez lifted his beer by way of response. He wasn’t moving from his spot.

This brought Johnny’s concerned act to a close. He’d tried to involve Gomez, but pushing the guy too hard could backfire. Gomez suspected him every step of the way and might question Johnny’s motives.

Changing tactics, he strode into the hallway, hoping to run into Isolde, but found Sydney instead.

He nodded. “Evening, Sydney. ”

She didn’t speak, but as he passed her, she gripped his arm and moved close to him. “Isolde is ready and waiting for a time,” she whispered.

Johnny stiffened.

Fuck. Sydney’s in on this? Not good.

Pressing his lips into a line, he breathed through his nose to calm his irritation, then cocked his head to speak. He wouldn’t confirm or deny.

“Nice to see you. What time is dinner?”

Sydney blinked. “Um…seven?”

“I appreciate what you do.” Johnny tapped his forehead, then kept on moving toward his bedroom. He walked in, put the phone on speaker, and called Barron while he gathered the few items of clothing he’d brought up. His friend answered right away.

“Hey.”

“I got the list. Now what?”

“What time is your target departure?”

Johnny glanced at his watch. It was only six in the evening.

“I have to wait until everyone’s asleep. The clubhouse is a fucking beehive. The guys are everywhere, and there’s the dinner hour to deal with. I’d like to catch Isolde alone, but it won’t be easy. She’s probably a nervous wreck. To complicate matters, this morning I picked up two shadows.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Their sudden interest is creeping me out. Gomez disliked me from the start. Now him and his friend are shadowing me. How am I going to fuck with the system with two idiots on my tail? Shit, man, I hope they haven’t figured out what I’m doing.”

“Relax and bide your time. You’ll get it all done. By any chance, is this Gomez interested in Isolde?”

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, remembering Gomez’s brazen leer.

“That’s why he’s following you around. You’re his competition. Besides, waiting sucks, makes a person see phantoms and all kinds of shit everywhere. Once you get on the road, you’ll feel better, more in control.”

“You’re right.” He sighed, wiping his forehead. “I did what you told me. I read the addresses, sent my thanks to the guy, but didn’t choose. Now what?”

“Now we coordinate a meeting time and location. Text me just before you leave Dalton, and I’ll figure out how long it’ll take you to reach exit 277 to Acworth on I-75. I’ll be waiting for you at the first gas station to your right.”

“That’s hardly an exact plan. What if I get there before you?”

“You stay put and wait for my arrival. Give Isolde a chance to hit the ladies’. Follow me?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll exchange vehicles. You’ll take my truck, and I’ll ride your bike to my house.”

“I still don’t?—”

“Hush and listen. You’re not going to Tennessee or staying in Georgia. Think unpredictable. Shark, the Keys prez, owns a vacation home by the Suwannee River in White Springs, Florida. He thinks I’m taking Yoanni and another couple on vacation. You and Isolde are the other couple.”

“The fuck are you talking about. Florida? It’s way too far.”

“Nope. It’s about five and half hours from Dalton, more or less. White Springs is just south of the Georgia-Florida border on I-75. That’s why you’re taking my truck. It’s easier on Isolde’s back and attracts less attention than a strange biker and his chick tooling around on a Harley. You two can wait in peace until this fucking insanity blows over.”

“Wow. But it’s only us. Won’t Shark be confused?”

“That’s fixed too. First of all, a management agency takes care of the rental. I spoke with them alreadyandtold them you’d be arriving ahead of us. The place is clean and ready for guests. They’ll leave instructions. It’s all set, my man. You and Isolde could use some private time away from the bullshit in the north. Honestly, if it were up to me, I’d throw Deacon and Rover into a ring without glovesso they can beat each other to a pulp. Unfortunately, it’s not up to me.”

Johnny swallowed. Good Lord, Barron’s enterprise in this situation overwhelmed him. His friend had thought of every detail to help him. This idea of hiding out in Florida was genius.

“Won’t you need your truck?” He knew he was reaching, but he didn’t know what else to say, he was so moved.

“Shut up.” Barron chuckled. “I have my bike, yours will be in the garage, and Yoanni has a new SUV. Got plenty of wheels to get around.”

“Barron, I…”

“Don’t even go there. We’re brothers, man. I’m pissed you’re in this situation, but you’re doing the right thing protecting Isolde. You have my respect. Go, take care of the last details, get Isolde ready, and I’ll be waiting for your text.”

“It’ll be close to a four a.m. departure, you know.”

“Sounds like an excellent time to me. I’ll meet you in Acworth. Good night, brother.”

“Good night, and thanks again.”

Taking a deep breath, Johnny dropped his phone into his pocket. Essentially, he was all packed. He crossed his fingers, hoping he might run into Isolde and be able to give her last-minute instructions without raising suspicions from anyone. Fuck. Easier said than done.