Yes, brother. I have precious cargo.
Johnny put his phone away and turned to her. “Nervous? Want to change your mind and stay? It’s okay if you do.”
“Not on your life.”
Smiling at her decisive answer, he turned on the engine. As she put her arms around his waist and sweetly dropped her head against his back, happiness surged within him. Nothing could ruin this moment, not even the danger of their circumstances. His woman, his adored little girl, had trusted him with her life and her future. He felt powerful, bigger than any man and able to do anything. For her, he’d move mountains.
“Hold on.” Putting the bike in gear, he released the clutch a bit, feathered the throttle, and slowly reached the top. Turning left, he headed toward southbound SR41.
According to Johnny’s phone GPS, the ride to Acworth would take him exactly fifty-nine minutes. He got lucky and shaved two minutes off. Traffic remained mostly light until the Acworth signs appeared. Soon after, traffic tripled. They were approaching the behemoth of Atlanta.
Though he asked Isolde repeatedly if she wanted a break, his girl soldiered on. Now, he was grateful for the shorter ride and the switch to Barron’s truck, where she’d be more comfortable. The longest part of their journey, four hours plus to reach White Springs, loomed ahead.
Pulling into the large discount gas station, he saw Barron off to the side waving at him. He stopped next to his friend.
He spoke to Isolde over his shoulder. “Go, baby. Use the toilet.”
“Okay.” She jumped down and rushed into the station.
Barron laughed, watching her go through the glass doors. “I guess she held it on the way down.”
Turning off the engine, he dismounted. “That bugs me. I had a feeling she was holding it, but every time I asked, she swore she was fine. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. Ever. We’re going to have to set up a few rules and parameters. When I ask a direct question, I expect her to tell me the truth.”
Barron’s expression was thoughtful. “My first impression was correct. She’s Little.”
“She is,” Johnny said. “I haven’t figured out her preferred age yet.”
“Well, you’ll have plenty of uninterruptedtime to find out.” Barron took a keyring out of his pocket along with a small envelope. “Keys to the truck. I jotted the combination to the front door lock, since they don’t use keys, and the management’s phone number. Call them if the house isn’t ready or something is missing.”
“Thanks.”
“Before you go, I have some advice. Want to hear it?”
Johnny chuckled. “You’ve never been shy. Why start now?”
“True.” Barron grinned. “My two cents. Take your time. Don’t jump into age play and don’t rush her. Keep your distance for a while. I know it’ll be hard. She needs to breathe on her own. Don’t forget she’s lived within Deacon’s uptight environment for a long time. She’ll need support and a gentle hand to step out.”
“I appreciate the advice.” Johnny nodded. “And I had every intention of going slow. We talked about us and our lifestyle, and she surprised me with how much she knows. In theory, she’s aware of what’s involved and wants it.” He laughed softly. “Might be different when we’re alone. I’ll be careful. Plus, she has this internal sparkle I love to see. It’s like an amazing light. I’ll do anything to keep it alive and protected. Knowing that she’s safe from harm and close to me is enough for this old guy to be happy.” He tapped his knuckles above his heart.
“Isolde doesn’t know it yet, but she’ll realize soon enough thatshe struck the mother lode. She couldn’t have found a better or more devoted Daddy.”
“I love her, bro. That’s all I know.”
“And there she is,” Barron said as Isolde walked through the glass doors. He frowned at Johnny. “You’re familiar with my truck, right?”
“Sure am. I’ve driven it before,” Johnny said, taking his and Isolde’s bags out of the bike’s compartment. “And you’ll take care of my bike, won’t you?”
“Like it was my own.”
“Hi, Barron,” Isolde said as she came closer. “Thanks for helping us.” Before Barron could react, she hugged him and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Um. Sure. Anytime,” Barron stammered.
Johnny laughed. He’d never seen his friend at a loss for words before. As Isolde pulled back from Barron, Johnny held her arm. “We have to go, baby. From now on, traffic is going to get worse.”
“Shit, yeah,” Barron said. “The Atlanta bypass is hell. You have four hours ahead of you. Go, before you get stuck in rush hour.”
“We’re going. Say hi to Yoanni.” Johnny shook hands with Barron. “Thanks again, man. I owe you.”