Page 40 of Johny B

“You know, you biker club boys are nothing but a group of feckless eejits,” he sniggers. “Did you really think that we weren’t watching you?” Pushing up from the desk, he moves around it, grabs up a pen from the top and drops into the chair behind it. He leans back into the seat until it tilts bringing his feet up on top of the desktop until he’s not far from being horizontal. A few of the loose papers fall from the edge and float down to the floor from the force of his boots. “Hanging around, watching as those cunts ran around like scared rats when the bomb went off was so exhilarating. Not to be missed, but if we’d have left not one minute earlier than we did, we would have missed the arrival of you and your Floridian fellas. It was almost Oscar worthy, the way you rode in, all in black, through the plumes of smoke and mayhem. Spectacular.” He flicks the pen from side to side between his fingers, his expression dreamlike, enjoying the replay of every sick moment in his head. “I must admit, you did have us fooled for a while, with your new hair and ink, but it didn’t take us that long to realize that you were one of the Florida lot.”

“You motherfucker,” I growl, getting to my feet only to be smacked back down by a heavy punch to my shoulder.

“Sit the fuck down,” Mal seethes. “Don’t you get it, fuckface? We know exactly who you are and what you’re trying to do here.”

“And exactly what is that?” I ask cockily, trying to push up again, only to be pushed back down.

“We have a good idea,” Mal snorts. “But we’d prefer to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

“If you think that I’m going to tell you cunts anything, then you’re very much mistaken.” I bare my teeth at him, and spit the nasty taste in the back of my mouth at him. “Bring it on.” Ipush out my face, gesturing him to take a hit, but the sound of Dunne’s laughter has me looking his way.

“Jesus, JB. We’re not going to tortureyoufor information,” he almost singsongs at me, but the muffled feminine cry that catches my ear has me already turning towards the open doorway. “We’re going to torture her.”

The sight of Scarlett, blood oozing from the corner of her puffy lips, tears glistening on her cheeks, and eyes wide with fear, lights a fire in me like never before. She’s still in her sleep shorts and top from when I left her. Feet bare and bleeding.

The need to bolt to my feet and rip out Rory’s throat for not just touching her, but for the tight grip he has on the chain that’s looped around her neck, and looks to be cutting into her delicate skin. All it would take is for one more tug to tighten it further and her ability to take in air would be cut.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’ve catastrophically fucked up. I know they have photos of her, but have I led them to her? Have I now made her a more valuable target? That’s last thing I ever wanted to do. Have they made the connection?

“Can’t deny that it took us by surprise who we came across while following you. Your girlfriend’s place was very enlightening. Very enlightening indeed.”

Chapter

Twenty-Three

Fifty minutes earlier.

Scarlett

The loudness of the door banging shut in JB’s face was nothing compared to the high-pitched scream of the voice in my head, telling me to go after him. Yet the pain in my heart, and my stubbornness wouldn’t let me. The last few months have been hard. I’ve conditioned myself not to think about him every second of the day. It’s been near on impossible, not to mention the dreams that have haunted me every night. Seeing him has demolished the walls that I’d managed to build, leaving me once again feeling vulnerable and foolish. I had fallen once again. His touch putting a flame to the fuse that would undoubtedly lead to one hell of a fire. My heart can’t take him leaving again; but can it be strong enough to stay away? Should I live for today and fuck tomorrow? Because who knows what the outcome will be, especially if JB is involved with the Death Valley Irish?

I go and grab my cell phone from where I left it earlier on the kitchen countertop, and move to go back to my bed, only I’mhalted in my tracks by the firm knocking on the door. He’s not giving up easily. He’s fighting for me, but I’m not going to make it easy for him.

“For fuck’s sake! Can’t you just leave?” I shout as I walk back to the door. “Go home, JB.”

Another knock, but this time louder. I tell myself that the reason my hand is on the lock, ready to release it, is because I don’t want him to wake the neighbors. The real reason is that I want him here. In my home. In my bed. In my life.

“What is wrong with you?” I release the catch. “I thought I made myself clear.” It takes mere seconds for me to realize my mistake as soon as I catch sight of the redheaded twins taking up all the space in the doorway. I push hard on the door to close it, but it’s futile. They’re bigger, stronger, and the door bangs against the wall with the force they put behind it. I turn on my heals, ready to flee towards the bathroom, the only internal room with a lock. If I can just get there and lock myself in, it will give me time to make a call on my phone that I still have clutched in my hand. My plan doesn’t get a chance to come to fruition as I’m grabbed around the waist, a hand is slapped hard against my mouth as my feet leave the ground, and I’m carried inside. I’m thrown facedown onto the couch, and I scurry around until I’m sat upright, knees tucked up close under my chin, as I take in my assailants. I count four in total crowding the room. The twins stand back, covering any possible escape routes. The other two hover over me.

“So sorry for the intrusion.” A tall guy with red hair standing in front of me, says with not much sincerity. “But it has recently come to our attention that you could be of great help to us.”

“Who are you?” I try to sound unaffected by their intimidation, but there’s a slight waver to my voice.

“Excuse me,” he places his hand on his chest and bows his head. “I’m Jimmy Dunne, but you might know me as Paddy. I’msure your boyfriend will have mentioned me, seeing as he’s been working for me.”

“You must be mistaken,” I reply with a tight smile. “I don’t have a boyfriend. You must have the wrong apartment.”

“Now let’s not be telling lies,” He sighs. “That will only make things more complicated. I heard you shout his name, JB… you remember?”

“You’re still very much mistaken,” I drop my feet to the floor and try to stand, but the big oaf that carried me in here is still holding guard, and pushes me back down into the seat. “I won’t deny I know a JB, but he’s nothing but a casual hookup.”

Dunne starts to pace the floor in front of me. “Still, you lie to me,” he tsk’s. When he gets near to the bookshelf, that holds my small collection of favorite books and framed photographs, he stops suddenly. I take the chance to quickly fumble with my phone, slipping into the small pocket inside the waistband of my shorts. Thankfully, nobody notices.

“What do we have here?” First, he picks up the picture of my mom and looks at it closely. He turns his head and looks at me intently, before turning around and replacing it back onto the shelf. He checks out the next photo, and begins to shake his head from side-to-side. “You’ve done well here, Mal,” he lets out a loud guffaw. “Your hunch that this was worth a further look was a cracking call.”

“How’s that?” the one who had manhandled me asks, looking rather smug.

“You’ve struck fecking gold, fella.” He turns brusquely towards me, picture still in his hand, pointing at the image. “What does daddy Smoke think about you fucking a Young Outlaw, especially one from out of town with no ranking within the club?”

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