Page 8 of Restless
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Stone said under his breath.
Johnnie smirked at the motherfucker, brushing past Cleaner without comment.
Inside, warmth and noise greeted Johnnie.TNTby AC/DC blasted from speakers hanging at the tops of the walls. Brooks waited near the door, sweat beading his brow. Women and bikers surrounded the lacquered bar and filled the chairs at the tables. Small American flags painted on the walls shared space with rendered scorpions. The stage on the opposite side contained a center pole.
As more bikers caught sight of Johnnie, silence rolled in, until he and Brooks stood with all eyes on them.
Brooks shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other. He trembled, still scarred by the violence he’d brought upon himself so many years ago. Yet, he’d gotten back into the club’s good graces. More importantly, Kendall saw him as a father and Brooks treated her as one of his daughters. For that alone, Johnnie would protect him.
He placed a hand on Brooks’s shoulder. “You’re fine,” he soothed. “The meeting will be over before you know it and we’ll check into the hotel to get a hot shower and a good meal. Tomorrow night, we’ll be at home with our wives.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Brooks nodded. “We should’ve told Outlaw—”
At the sound of heavy footfalls accompanied by jingling spurs, Johnnie blinked. Even before Bash came into view in the hallway that seemed to branch off, the familiarity of the spurs arrested Johnnie.
Christopher loved his spurs, too.
Though Bash had a bald head, a beard, and scarred and pockmarked skin, he shared both Christopher’s green eyes and Cee Cee’s maniacal light.
Bash paused in the doorway. Signs pointing toward the hall indicated bathrooms and a staircase lay in that direction.
Walking forward, he glanced from Brooks to Johnnie. “To what do I owe the pleasure, little brother?” He paused. Smiled. “Outlaw turned forty-nine a week ago. I thought the celebrations would still be underway.”
The birthday party reminded Johnnie of old times, before all the pain and betrayal, especially on his part. He wanted to atone for his many mistakes.
Bygones were bygones. Happiness abounded amongst the brothers and their old ladies. His children—his nieces and nephews—knew nothing of the grief that had passed.
Johnniewoulddie before he allowed motherfucking Bash to undermine his family’s joy. “Forty-nine isn’t the milestone, so it was just a birthday party. I’m sure Christopher’s fiftieth will go down in infamy.”
“Big Joe’s girl will pull out all the stops for her man.” Bash transferred his glacial gaze to Brooks. “I told you not to open your fucking mouth until you spoke to me.”
Brooks straightened. “I work for Outlaw, Mr. Caldwell,” he said evenly.
“Will you die for him, too?” Bash questioned.
“Shut the fuck up,” Johnnie said coldly, fed-up. “When you want Brooks on your payroll, he’ll follow your orders. Otherwise, take it up with me or Christopher.”
Grumbles floated to Johnnie. He was disrespecting a club president on his own turf. He drew in a deep breath. “Let’s have a seat and talk, Bash.”
“We’re in my fucking club, John Boy. I’ll give the directives.”
“Then direct,” Johnnie said flatly. “Your song and dance bore me.”
“I resent your tone, little brother.”
“Remind me when I gave a fuck about what you resented,big brother.”
Cleaner sidled next to Bash. “Shut your fucking mouth, boy,” he said to Johnnie, then glanced at Bash. “I can take him and lawyerman to the pit.”
Brooks gulped. “Wh-what, pray, is the pit?”
“Probably the equivalent to our meatshack,” Johnnie said with a shrug.
“What?” Brooks shrieked, paling before dropping to the floor in a dead faint.
“He’s shitting me, right?” Bash asked, while Cleaner rapidly blinked at Brooks’s prone body and roars of laughter rose around them.
Sighing, Johnnie lit another cigarette. “Motherfucker’s out cold,” he announced after taking a few puffs. “A remnant of crossing Christopher.”
