Page 19 of Johny B

Stone hammerson Smoke’s office door after Ginger points us in that direction, saying that he’d been in here for the last hour. Although Smoke is quick to respond, shouting for us to come in, he doesn’t raise his head from the papers he’s got laid out in front of him to check out who it is that’s entered.

“Smoke,” Stone voices when his prez shows no sign of acknowledging us.

“What do you want?” he growls, throwing his head back. “I’ve got a lot of shit going on right now.” His eyes are shut, jaw tight as he slams the palm of his hand hard onto the surface of the desk with frustration.

“Trust me, you really need to see this,” Stone tries once more to get his attention.

“Jesus!” His eyes fly open, his lips open, teeth bared. “What’s so fucking important that…” When his eyes eventually take me in, his words come to a sudden halt. He takes a long, strung-out breath before he gathers his composure and speaks up. “So. Fucking. What?” he gripes out. “JB got a haircut. Hardly fucking earth shattering.”

“That’s not all,” I pipe up and quickly shrug off my cut, pull off my high neck sweater and reveal my inked skin. “Now, are you convinced that I’m serious about infiltrating the Death Valley Irish?”

“Sure, you look different,” Smoke deadpans. “But it will take more than appearance to convince Dunne to trust you and let you into their fold.”

“To be sure,” I find my inner Irish and reply with a northern lilt, but when he raises a brow, I drop it just a quickly. “My family are Irish immigrants, so if they don’t take me on face value and start looking into my past, then it’s not going to be too far from reality that I wouldn’t hold an alliance for my ancestral homeland.”

“And when they see that you're linked to the Young Outlaws Florida, your pretty little head will be on a stake, even with your new skinhead cut,” he counters.

“Not if I use my real name.” I fire back.

“We might call you JB, but everyone at the club knows your birth name.” Mammoth intervenes.

“No, you don’t,” I reply bluntly, not willing to go into it further. “Jonathan Bently is not my birth name. If I use my real name, no amount of research will link me to the club.”

“All this is irrelevant bullshit,” Smoke says, tapping a smoke from the packet on his desk and placing it on his lips. He flicks open his lighter, holds the flame to the tip and takes a long, deep drag. He leans back in his chair, letting the smoke slowly out through his nostrils.

“Your prez would never sign off on it, and I sure as fuck ain’t going to ask him to either. Cannon has already gone above and beyond, sending you guys over here to back up our situation with the DVI. To place one of his men in a position that can only be described as a suicide mission, despite my own desire to put a bullet in your head, ain’t fucking happening.”

“What if I ask him?” Mammoth suggests.

“I don’t expect you to do that either. It’s our battle to fight,” Smoke counters. “Not Florida’s,”

“With all due respect, Smoke, when Dunne and the DVI made you and your chapter a target, they didn’t just fuck with Nevada, they fucked with the whole fucking Young Outlaws.Every fucking chapter. Every fucking brother who wears the YOMC colors.”

“He’s right, Prez,” Stone adds. “This could be the one and only chance we get to wipe out those motherfuckers once and for all.”

“Alright, alright.” Smoke pushes out of his seat and walks around to the front of his desk. “I’ll speak to Cannon, but I warn you now, I ain’t going to lay it on thick. I’ll give him the facts, and the facts only, as well as pointing out the risks. However, if he ain’t convinced, I ain’t going to try to convince him otherwise. You get me?” His eyes seek me out. “If he’s not interested, then that’s the last I want to hear of this shit, right?”

“Sure,” I say back cockily because, knowing my prez, he’ll be all in. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t start wanting in on the planning, too.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Chapter

Fifteen

Johny B

As soon as I got the message from Mammoth that Smoke had called church, my gut started to bubble with excitement.

It’s been three days since I walked back into the Nevada clubhouse looking like a totally different man. I’ve been going stir crazy while staying inside, keeping myself to myself, making sure that my new appearance is kept under wraps from the outside world. So, I pray that the summons is a sign that a decision has been made, and it’s the right one.

When I walk into the room, I am not sure if the fact that not all the club members are in the room is a good or bad sign. Mammoth is here, along with three of the Nevada council and, of course, Smoke, but there’s another guy sat at the back of the room that I can’t recall seeing before.

“Why is this fucking thing not working?” Smoke grumbles from where he sits at the head of the table, shaking what looks like an iPad that he has in his hands, with frustration.

“Let me,” I say, walking straight over to him. I can see the iPad has power, but the App isn’t working. “Looks like the Wi-Fi signal has dropped out.” I quickly get into the settings, press a few buttons and Cannon’s face fills the screen. “Hey, Prez,” I say, and Cannon acknowledges me with a simple nod before I hand the gadget back to Smoke.

“Sit the fuck down, JB,” Smoke orders quickly before turning his attention to the screen. It’s not that I expected a thank you or anything, but… Rude.

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