Page 8 of Johnny Gun

Behind him, the murmur of conversations resumed.

“I came for a beer. Anything on tap will do.”

Nostrils flaring, the bartender grunted in agreement. He lifted a filthy beer mug in desperate need of another run in the dishwasher and tilted it under the tap to fill. One thing could be said about this bartender, hostile or not, the guy was a patient pourer. Johnny G guessed he’d learned his craft in a military deployment in Germanyif the tattoo with the doubled-headed eagle underneath the name Ramstein on his biceps was an accurate indication.

The bartender delivered the full mug, gave him his change without any comment, and walked away to another customer.

Johnny G took a large gulp and smacked his lips in appreciation. Bitter, sharp, and ice cold, the hoppy brew slid down his throat and cooled the burn in his chest. Once it hit his stomach, a pleasant sensation spread throughout the rest of his system. He exhaled with relief as tension left his body, then took another swig. Calmer now, and with none of his brothers watching his every expression, he released the thoughts he’d strapped down during the church meeting.

The deadly threat to Isolde had torn his resolution to keep his distance and allow her to move on with her life to pieces. He wished so much happiness for her: a deserving man; someone younger, with fresh ideas and a hopeful perspective in life. A guy Deacon would love for his precious daughter. And precious she was.

But now all bets were off. He couldn’t stay in Garden Cityknowing Los Emes and the Steel Wolves’ intentions. The big issue was to figure out how to protect her and still keep his distance. His initial reaction when he’d heard Shifter talk was to jump on his bike, ride north, and snatch her out of the Dalton clubhouse. Take her deep into the wilderness of the Cohutta Mountains or farther north to Tennessee. Not a bad strategy. When he got to Dalton, the first item on his agenda was to search for vacation rentals in the mountains.

Maybe he could ask some of the guys up there for suggestions.

No, not the guys. No one could know. He had to find a good hideout place without divulging the location to any of his brothers.

And Barron?

He’d tell him. His friend was the only man he truly trusted.

Johnny rubbed his face, making a mental outline…

“Hey, Bubba!” the bartender said.

Voices behind him followed the greeting.

“Dude, it’s about time you showed up.”

The new arrival was a popular member of this watering hole. Johnny didn’t turn around to see; this Bubba guy didn’t interest him one bit. Before long, Bubba made his way to the bar. Standing several feet away from Johnny Gun, he slapped the counter.

“Hey, Mac.”

Johnny studied the situation from under lowered eyelids.

The bartender stopped talking to the customer sitting on the corner stool and smiled at Bubba.

“Dude. The usual?” he asked.

“Bourbon rocks and make it a double, will ya?” Bubba replied. “My fucking boss was on my ass all day.”

“You got it.” Without delay, Mac slammed a bottle of a cheap brand of bourbon and a glass with ice onto the bar. Obviously, he was prepared for Bubba’s arrival.

Johnny glanced sideways. Bubba was a big guy, with massivearms and shoulders and a belly to match. The image of a skinny boss thrusting his dick into this guy’s ass seemed humorous to him. Covering his mouth with his hand, he snickered to himself.

He didn’t snicker low enough.

Growling, Bubba jumped the short distance between them. His meaty paw gripped Johnny G’s shoulder. “Do you have a death wish, motherfucker?” Spittle hit Johnny G’s cheek. “We don’t want your kind here.”

“Forget him, Bubba.” Mac gave Johnny G a warning stare, then eyed his friend. “He ain’t worth the trouble. Come on, relax. Have your drink.” He filled Bubba’s glass and pushed it toward the man.

Muttering sounds no one could understand, the big guy released Johnny Gun’s shoulder and turned his attention to his glass. Unfortunately, Bubba had opened the door Johnny Gun had waited for, and he walked right through.

“No,” Johnny G said.

Bubba slapped his glass down. “Excuse me?”

“Easy, guys,” Mac urged nervously.

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