Page 68 of Johnny Gun

“Are you in contact with Johnny all the time?”

A long silence followed, then Blade spoke again.

“Are you confident they’re safe? Should we move them to a different location? White Springs is pretty and all, but it’s so small. If anyone gets wind of their location, they’ll be found right away.”

Gomez stopped the recording and gawked. “Deacon has to know.”

Trent snatched the phone away. “No, he doesn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Gomez frowned. “Of course he does. It’s his daughter. He’s desperate to find her.”

Trent grabbed his arm. “He will know. After they’re picked up.”

“Picked up?” Gomez blinked furiously. An icy sensation settled in his chest. “By who?”

“My people.”

“Your…people?” He swallowed. Yanking his arm loose, he stepped back from Trent.No, no, no.It can’t be. He forced himself to ask. “Which people are those?”

Trent gave him a bland smile. “Come on, dude. You already know. Rover, the Wolves’ prez, and his cartel friends. How does that line go? ‘They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.’ More fucking money than I could make in a lifetime.” He shook his head. “Not turning that down.”

“Spineless motherfucker. No wonder the Wolves have known our every move. You’re a fucking traitor.” Gomez kept moving back.

“Traitor? Who’s the real traitor here? All of us came to the Spawn because the MC was making money smuggling goods and gun running. But Deacon changed the game on us, following Blade’s lead. Now I can’t pay my bills. Then he double-crossed one of us to the feds to get even.”

“One of us? Who?”

“Killer.”

“But he’s not a Spawn.”

“Doesn’t matter, he’s still a biker, technically, a brother. Deacon’s need for vengeance was stronger than loyalty to us. When Rover reached out to me, I agreed. There’s real payback for you. The Wolves have been a step ahead of the Spawn, thanks to yours truly. Isolde would already be theirs, but that asshole Johnny Gun got involved.”

“Isolde’s a civilian. An innocent in all this.”

“Who gives a fuck? She’s collateral damage.”

“You’re insane.” Facing Trent, Gomez hollered, “Deacon! Blade! Wake up. Wake up!”

“Don’t do that. Don’t make me hurt you, Gomez. It’s too late. They’re already on their way. Blade said it. White Springs is small. Before morning, they’ll have her and Johnny.”

Gomez ran toward the clubhouse, bellowing louder than before. “Deacon! Blade! Wake up! Wake?—”

The last shout ended in a gasp. Trent jumped on his back, and a deep burning pain to the middle of Gomez’s back took his breath…

Initially, the buzzing became part of Johnny’s dream. A moment later, the irritating sound woke him up, and he reached blindly for his phone on the night table.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Get out. Now,” Barron urged. “They know where you are, and they’re coming. There’s no time. Don’t think and don’t pack. Just put Isolde in the truck and leave. Come straight to the clubhouse. We’re waiting for you. Call me from the road. Hear me?”

“Yes.”

Hell yeah. He was wide awake. “Wake up, baby. We have to go.” Jumping out of bed, he spoke and dressed at the same time.

“Hmmm?”

He shook her shoulder, but Isolde was in a deep sleep and not responding quickly at all. Johnny didn’t have a spare second to waste. Barron’s call didn’t give him any kind of estimate, except to get out now. That was enough for him.

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