Page 17 of Johny B

“I thought you were hot on Stone?”

“He only has eyes for Oriana these days. Hasn’t tapped any of the club girls since she came on the scene,” she sighs.

“Is that a hint of sour grapes I hear in your voice?” I question. It wasn’t until I’d moved out of Velvet Reds and into the clubhouse that I’d seen the way Ginger looked at Stone. Whether he’d gone there or not, I couldn’t say for sure.

“Nah, maybe at first, but Oriana’s cool, and Stone is all in when it comes to her. And the way she momma’s little Sasha like she’s her own blood, ain’t no way anyone is ever gonna be able to take her place.”

“You’ll find the right man, Ginger, but it ain’t me, sugar. And when you do, you’ll be his everything and you’ll be like, Stone, Stone who? Never fucking heard of him.” A smile lights up her face and damn, she is a beautiful woman and a cut above the other available chicks that hang around here. But my head and dick are firmly in agreement with my heart. There’s only one woman for me and I’m going to work my fucking ass off to get her back.

Chapter

Thirteen

Johny B

“First of all, I’d like to express once again our gratitude to Mammoth, and the rest of our Florida brothers for the help you have given us after the explosion,” Smoke addresses everyone from where he sits at the head of the table. He’d called church thirty minutes ago, knowing that all the brothers were on site, as Smoke had the club on a temporary lockdown.

“After speaking to their Prez a few days ago, he’d agreed to send a few of our Florida brothers up here to help out with the Irish situation. I’d not mentioned this before because, to be honest, they got here a damn sight quicker than I’d expected.” He lets out a huge sigh. “As it turned out, that was a blessing. Having a second doc on hand has made it easier for us to get everyone the treatment needed without having to visit the local hospital.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Of course, we can’t forget the loss of our dear brother, Cub.” He lifts his gaze to Wolf. A deep sadness lingers in his eyes. “I promise you thisBrother, we will avenge his death with a wrath that will compare to no other.” Every man in the room grunts out their agreement. Wolf returns it with an emotional nod of his head. No words, as I’m sure it would break him.

“Now, to our number one priority.” Smoke leans forward. His normally expressionless face is like thunder. “How we slaughter Dunne and the fucking Death Valley Irish.”

I push back in my chair; the wooden legs make a scraping sound across the floor. I don’t get fully up, but lean my upper torso across the table, arm stretched out until my fingers touch the outer edge of the Young Outlaws MC emblem that’s etched into the wood surface.

“You infiltrate them,” I say loud and clear.

“Just how the fuck do you think we will manage to do that?” Edge berates me.

“You send someone in under cover.” I drop back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Don’t you think that he knows every single one of our faces by now?” Stone laughs. “Even Ghost’s, who might be able to work undetected but he’s not faceless to them.”

“Any of the new prospects are far too green to send in.” Mayhem offers up to the conversation. “And it would take months to get them into any kinda capability.”

“Time we don’t have,” Wolf growls. His need for vengeance is clear, which is understandable.

“They have no idea who I am.” I make eye contact with Smoke. He was already eyeballing me from the head of the table, but as to what he’s thinking, other than possible wanting my head mounted on a stick, I have no idea.

“What the hell, JB?” Mammoth pipes up. “What kind of crazy, half-cocked plan are you concocting?”

“What makes you think that they haven’t been watching us?” Smoke at last opens his mouth to speak. “I’m as sure as fuckthey’d have had eyes on us watching the chaos as the bomb went off.”

“Probably jacking off to it, too. The sick fuckers.” Hurricane slams his fist on the table, adding credence to his anger.

“Which, if they were, they’d have seen us arrive.” Mammoth shakes his head. “Too risky, JB, and I’m damn sure that Cannon wouldn’t allow it.”

“So, do we have any other suggestions on how we take them down?” Smoke addresses his brothers. Three or four of the guys start talking over each other, most of it negative.

“Hold on a minute,” I hold my hand up, shouting loud enough so that everyone halts, and heads turn in my direction. “Hear me out.” Again, I place my attention directly on Smoke, commanding his full acknowledgement. “Just picture this. I get rid of the hair, the leather and play down the swagger.” I switch up my accent and go with a not too exaggerated Irish twang. “Now you might not be aware of this, but my ancestors came here from Ireland back in the 1920s, fleeing from the political unrest and famine. So, as you can see, it’s not like I can’t add a recognizable lilt to my voice to make it more believable, now is it?”

Now I have everyone’s attention. Even Mammoth’s jaw is hanging slack.

“I can do this,” I say with utter conviction.

“Well, he’s certainly got enough arrogance and cockiness to pull it off,” Mammoth sighs. “Personally, I think you must have some kinda death wish, and I certainly can’t agree to his, not without the Prez, and the rest of the clubs backing.”

The noise in the room escalates. Each and every one of the brothers having something to say, but as I continue to watch Smoke, his stoic expression gives nothing away.

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