Page 131 of My UnTrue Love
“Yes. Twenty-four hours to arrest Johnny and your father. Then there will be no need for you to upset Clementine with any massacres.”
He could do that, he supposed. Bill didn’t like to see Clem upset. Besides, it would take a bit of time to plot out his own moves. However Johnny and Hop died, he wanted it to hurt. Bad. He gave a reluctant nod. “Twenty-four hours. But after that…”
Tony Beaver burst into the police station, cutting off Bill’s words. “Sheriff, you gotta come quick!” He pointed over his shoulder, gasping for breath and his tail quivering with agitation. “Somebody just set The Kitchen on fire!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Please change my wish,” he wailed aloud,
“For fame is all for naught,
“Without my bride, my Love avowed,
This is my lesson taught.”
Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”
Johnny should’ve been catching the fastest stagecoach out of Red River Valley.
He was smart enough to know that. Smart enough to knoweverything. He was probably the smartest person in town. Not that Johnny called himself a genius. He was far too modest. He just knewother peoplecalled him that. A lot. And he couldn’t help but notice that they were right. His creative genius was unrivaled.
Which is why Johnny was smart enoughnotto leave town. Because if he left, then Pecos Bill won, and Johnny wasn’t going to lose to that True-Love-snatching animal.
No way.
Johnny was a creative genius and he was going to fight back. Standing in the shadows, between the false-front buildings of the Saloon District, he watched The Kitchen burn.
“Good luck putting that coyote center stage, now.” He’d muttered as he threw the moonshine Molotov cocktail onto the roof. It should’ve been enough to get rid of Bill once and for all. It was supposed to be the coyote’s rehearsal time.
Johnny had watched with glee, as The Kitchen went up in smoke.
His whole body hurt from the beating that crazed coyote kid had given him. He was pretty sure some bones were cracked. His vocal cords might never recover from the near strangulation. If his singing voice was damaged, it would be a loss to the whole world. But with steadfast determination to destroy his enemies and a whole lot of drugs, he’d pushed on towards his goal.
It was all worth it.
Dinah and that horrible drum-playing Beaver had eventually come stumbling onto the street, coughing and covered in soot. Everyone else got out, too. But no Bill. Johnny thought he’d done it! That he’d rid the world of that dirty bastard.
Then, Bill came running up to the saloon. He’d missed his rehearsal time and hadn’t been in The Kitchen at all, which was just fucking infuriating. The son of a bitch wassounprofessional.
Hidden in one of the small alleyways, Johnny’s hands clenched at his sides.
He had his gun and holster. He’d managed to retrieve them from where he’d stashed them at the studio, before the cops shut the place down. However, he’d never fired the revolver before. It was just a fashion accessory. He was certain to miss Bill at this distance and then where would he be? Caught! And the coyote would still be free.
He needed a better plan. Something too big to fail.
Bill stood with Clem and Hank and that psycho kid who’d attacked Johnny for no reason. (Johnny recognized those weird, predatory eyes, even though the boy now looked human.) Why were those coyotes allowed to roam the streets, while Johnny was a wanted man? How was that fair?
“Dinah!” Clementine threw her arms around the old bitch in relief. “Thank goodness you’re safe.”
Hasten-2 significantly improved Johnny’s sight and hearing, so he was able to make out her words even from a distance. The elixir wasn’t nearly as dark and dangerous as people said. It clarified all his senses. Plus, it was organic. He was adding it to his smoothies.
“Settle down, now. I’m fine.” Dinah patted Clem’s back. “You okay, girl? I heard you got attacked by the same asshole who didthis.”
“Johnny set your saloon on fire?” Hank asked, but it sounded more like a statement than a question. Like he was already sure that Johnny was responsible for the fire, with no evidence at all.
Judgmental dick. So typical that he’d blame Johnny for everything. Hank had never liked him. Everybody knew it.
“Johnny did it, for sure.” Tony volunteered, his eyes on the conflagration. “I didn’t see him, but he was in here the other night, trying to buy drugs and pitchin’ a fit because Dinah wouldn’t let him play.”
