Page 131 of Relentles
“I hear you,” Johnnie said, barely above a whisper.
Stalking to him, Bash grabbed Johnnie’s lapels and yanked him to his feet. His cold eyes contrasted with his burning rage. “Do you fucking hear me?”
“I-I hear you,” Johnnie promised. “I hear you!”
“Big Joe bought a house in Hortensia.” Bash still gripped him. “He stored money in the basement. I want my fucking share.”
“That house was sold years ago. It was Megan’s free and clear. Her father bought the fucking house.”
“Where he stored money to use as payoffs. I want my fucking share! And I want my claim on the club to be recognized.”
Johnnie jerked out of Bash’s hold and shoved him away. “I know you’re fucking crazy,” he sneered, brushing off his jacket. “I didn’t know you were fucking stupid. How the fuck am I supposed to get that done without Christopher knowing?”
“I don’t care!” He kicked a chair. Holding his head, he started pacing, mumbling under his breath. “He’s fucking on to us. He’s on to us.” That chant grew increasingly loud, until he hollered, “HE’S FUCKING ONTO US!”
The door leading to the restrooms and staircase opened.
Four Scorps marched two badly beaten Dwellers into the room.
“He has them fucking spying on us!”
No. Jesus. God. No. Johnnie knew, he fuckingknewwhat Bash was about to make him do.
“The Salt Lake City chapter,” Bash clarified.
“I can’t fucking kill my own club members. That’s treason. A fucking death sentence.”
The Scorpions still sitting at the tables stood and aimed the weapons at Rory and Ryan.
“You kill these motherfuckers or we kill Rory and Ryan.”
“Kill me.”
“Fuck no. You’ll live. You’ll get to deliver their fucking bodies to your bitch and Val’s cunt.”
Johnnie unholstered his gun. “Whether I fucking live or die, you’re starting a fucking war with Christopher. Something you claimed you wanted to avoid.”
Bash laughed, abruptly stopping and screaming at the top of his lungs. Ryan was sobbing and trembling. Rory, too, started to cry. Bash was a lunatic. Johnnie’s only comfort was he doubted even Christopher could handle him.
“Let me negotiate for my brothers’ lives,” Johnnie said, hoping, praying,pleadingfor a way out of what faced him.
Bash screamed again. A clip clicked into place; a slide racked.
Johnnie was out of time.
He shot both of them in the neck and head, pushing the betrayal out of his mind. Instead of watching them bleed out or offering comfort to Rory and Ryan and still not trusting Bash, he asked, “Now what?”
“Do what the fuck I asked, Johnnie. I want my share due me and the fucking recognition as the son of a charter member.”
“How much time do I have?”
“As long as I fucking grant you.”
“That’s not a fucking answer,” he gritted.
“When I’m tired of fucking waiting, you’ll know. Now, holster your gun and get the fuck out of my club.”
“Don’t shoot us in the back, Bash,” Ryan pleaded, around sniffles.
