Page 126 of Relentles
As Johnnie saw it, Meggie was still recovering. She’d just had a scare six or seven days ago and ended up back in the ER. Her baby wasn’t home and suffered setbacks. She was weak and vulnerable, unable to see the forest for the trees. She couldn’t think clearly if her life depended on it. He saw this as the opportune time to bring her to her knees, so he could suggest time alone.
He wanted her to go to the cabinTabithasuggested, of all the fucking bitches. But Meggie’s death would be on Johnnie’sshoulders. Ryan wasn’t sure where the fuck that stupid cabin was. He just knew buried under a bunch of names and smokescreens was the real owner: the Scorpions.
Johnnie was a fucking idiot. Rory had warned Ryan to get Tabitha to back off. Fuck him, too. Ass-kissing, CJ-loving, beta boy.
Diesel’s wife had her own agenda fueled by her allegiance to Bash. She’d tipped Johnnie off to Outlaw texting that nurse cunt behind Meggie’s back. Diesel had a big fucking mouth.
Shrugging into his jacket, Ryan decided he’d go to the hospital. He wanted to see Molly, but he also wanted to witness the chaos his videos caused. He’d had to send a series of short clips, using a throwaway number.
Johnnie swore Outlaw would blame Bash. Cool. As long as the motherfucker didn’t blame Ryan.
Chapter Eighteen - Johnnie
Early in the morning, on the eve of New Year’s Eve, Johnnie found himself escorting Rory and Ryan into the mother chapter of the American Scorpions. He,they, had been summoned by Bash a day earlier than planned, and Johnnie didn’t think it wise to ignore the insane motherfucker. He’d removed his sling because he didn’t want Bash to know Christopher shot him.
If he was so expendable to Christopher thatheshot Johnnie, then his life would be worth shit to Bash.
On top of that, insisting Ryan accompany him hadn’t sat well with Val or Zoann.
Considering Ryan’s behavior, Val and Zoann’s suspicious and intense questioning when Johnnie announced he wanted his nephew to accompany him and Rory on an overnight vacation was shocking. He was as much a relative as Christopher. Their grilling was unnecessary, especially when Johnnie knew it wouldn’t have happened if ithadbeen Christopher.
Johnnie wanted to journey to Salt Lake City and escape with their lives before more questions arose. He wanted to ease Rory’s resentment over the silence Johnnie demanded from him on the matter of Bash and Megan.
After sharing driving responsibilities with Ryan, Johnnie drove his Navigator through the opened gates just as the sun was rising in the eastern sky, painting the desert landscape in shades of mauve, lavender, and magenta, threaded with touches of gold and orange. The decided chill in the air matched Johnnie’s grim mood.
For the first time in a long while, he acknowledged fear. He recognized how much he missed Christopher. His audacity alone always gave Johnnie the confidence he needed to survive and thrive. After their conversation where he’d broken Christopher’s trust in every way possible, Johnnie remembered the connection they’d once shared.
Christopher was right. He had always been the one person who admired and protected Johnnie, while never expecting anything except loyalty in return.
“Are we getting out, Dad?” Rory asked from the backseat.
Swallowing, Ryan stared at the clubhouse. “Why do you think he wants to see us, Johnnie?”
He was too uncertain to take issue with Ryan not adding ‘uncle’. “I don’t know,” Johnnie admitted. Whatever the reason, he needed to get it over with. “Lift up the floorboard in front of you, son. Take the Sig.”
Ryan paled. “Bash will kill—”
“We will let them know we’re armed,” Johnnie interrupted, “although our weapons will be concealed.” He nodded to the glove compartment. “Yours is in there, Ryan.”
“I-I…”
A knock on Johnnie’s window interrupted Ryan’s stutter. Seeing the motherfucker who’d opened the gate, Johnnie pressed the button and the glass rolled down.
“What?” he snapped.
Unlike Stone, who Johnnie dealt with on his first visit, this fuckhead wore a cut with a Prospect patch. He was young and nameless and seemed much more amicable.
“Get back to your fucking post,” Cleaner ordered, before the kid found his voice. “I’ll handle it from here.”
The boy nodded and stumbled back, turning and running to the gate.
Cleaner leaned into the car and winced as if in pain. Sweeping his gaze around, he stared at Johnnie for so long that Johnnie clenched his jaw to keep his temper in check.
“I’ve had a long fucking drive, Cleaner,” he barked. “Get the fuck away from the door, so I can talk to Bash.”
“I don’t like your tone,” Cleaner sneered. “I haven’t been well recently. Makes me less tolerable than usual.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Johnnie clapped back.Hewas suffering a recent gunshot.
