Page 36 of Johnny Gun

“What time is your target departure?”

Johnny glanced at his watch. It was only six in the evening.

“I have to wait until everyone’s asleep. The clubhouse is a fucking beehive. The guys are everywhere, and there’s the dinner hour to deal with. I’d like to catch Isolde alone, but it won’t be easy. She’s probably a nervous wreck. To complicate matters, this morning I picked up two shadows.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Their sudden interest is creeping me out. Gomez disliked me from the start. Now him and his friend are shadowing me. How am I going to fuck with the system with two idiots on my tail? Shit, man, I hope they haven’t figured out what I’m doing.”

“Relax and bide your time. You’ll get it all done. By any chance, is this Gomez interested in Isolde?”

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, remembering Gomez’s brazen leer.

“That’s why he’s following you around. You’re his competition. Besides, waiting sucks, makes a person see phantoms and allkinds of shit everywhere. Once you get on the road, you’ll feel better, more in control.”

“You’re right.” He sighed, wiping his forehead. “I did what you told me. I read the addresses, sent my thanks to the guy, but didn’t choose. Now what?”

“Now we coordinate a meeting time and location. Text me just before you leave Dalton, and I’ll figure out how long it’ll take you to reach exit 277 to Acworth on I-75. I’ll be waiting for you at the first gas station to your right.”

“That’s hardly an exact plan. What if I get there before you?”

“You stay put and wait for my arrival. Give Isolde a chance to hit the ladies’. Follow me?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll exchange vehicles. You’ll take my truck, and I’ll ride your bike to my house.”

“I still don’t?—”

“Hush and listen. You’re not going to Tennessee or staying in Georgia. Think unpredictable. Shark, the Keys prez, owns a vacation home by the Suwannee River in White Springs, Florida. He thinks I’m taking Yoanni and another couple on vacation. You and Isolde are the other couple.”

“The fuck are you talking about. Florida? It’s way too far.”

“Nope. It’s about five and half hours from Dalton, more or less. White Springs is just south of the Georgia-Florida border on I-75. That’s why you’re taking my truck. It’s easier on Isolde’s back and attracts less attention than a strange biker and his chick tooling around on a Harley. You two can wait in peace until this fucking insanity blows over.”

“Wow. But it’s only us. Won’t Shark be confused?”

“That’s fixed too. First of all, a management agency takes care of the rental. I spoke with them alreadyandtold them you’d be arriving ahead of us. The place is clean and ready for guests. They’ll leave instructions. It’s all set, my man. You and Isoldecould use some private time away from the bullshit in the north. Honestly, if it were up to me, I’d throw Deacon and Rover into a ring without glovesso they can beat each other to a pulp. Unfortunately, it’s not up to me.”

Johnny swallowed. Good Lord, Barron’s enterprise in this situation overwhelmed him. His friend had thought of every detail to help him. This idea of hiding out in Florida was genius.

“Won’t you need your truck?” He knew he was reaching, but he didn’t know what else to say, he was so moved.

“Shut up.” Barron chuckled. “I have my bike, yours will be in the garage, and Yoanni has a new SUV. Got plenty of wheels to get around.”

“Barron, I…”

“Don’t even go there. We’re brothers, man. I’m pissed you’re in this situation, but you’re doing the right thing protecting Isolde. You have my respect. Go, take care of the last details, get Isolde ready, and I’ll be waiting for your text.”

“It’ll be close to a four a.m. departure, you know.”

“Sounds like an excellent time to me. I’ll meet you in Acworth. Good night, brother.”

“Good night, and thanks again.”

Taking a deep breath, Johnny dropped his phone into his pocket. Essentially, he was all packed. He crossed his fingers, hoping he might run into Isolde and be able to give her last-minute instructions without raising suspicions from anyone. Fuck. Easier said than done.

CHAPTER EIGHT

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