Chapter Seventeen—Johnnie
Kendall barely spoke to Johnnie when he arrived home late last night.
If not for JJ and Blade, he would’ve been completely alone, stewing in aggravation.
He couldn’t fucking believe Kendall threatened to get a lover.
His momentary happiness that she’d begun calling Christopher by Outlaw again disintegrated and all he thought of was how close they’d become recently.
Christopher and Kendall were just alike.
They’d fuck out of some type of sick revenge toward Johnnie when he’d done nothing wrong.
Megan bore the brunt of the blame. He hadn’t wanted to love that little cunt for so long; she’d made him do it.
He was so fucking furious with Kendall and her fucking unfairness, he could barely see straight.
She hadn’t barred him from their room, so he’d climbed into bed and yanked her into his arms, holding her so tightly, she couldn’t even shift.
It was only her tears wetting his skin in the middle of the night, that soothed him.
She cared. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have cried.
Maybe, if he pushed her to the edge, played on her fear, he’d get her on his side again. While she’d showered, he’d gone into the bathroom and watched her, ignoring her violent glowers, licking his lips at the sight of her beautiful tits and shaved pussy.
“Johnnie, go,” she’d ordered, gorgeous and damp as she stepped onto the bamboo rug, her body pink from the warm water she favored, her red hair plastered to her head.
Instead of following her orders, he’d stepped out of his pajama bottoms, displaying his erection.
“You’re an asshole,” she hissed, storming out of the bathroom.
Proud he’d gotten under her skin, Johnnie strutted to the shower and prepared for the day.
It didn’t surprise him to find she’d already left with JJ when he went down to breakfast. Blade was with Ella, so Johnnie hummed happily, texted Rory, Mattie, and JJ to have a good day at school, and talked to his youngest child about his stubborn mother.
Receiving Rory’s response that he and Matilda hadn’t gone to school annoyed Johnnie, but he let it go. He had an action plan to create on driving Kendall to the brink and then reeling her back in.
Ella had just taken Blade to his nursery when Johnnie’s day went to hell.
Bash: Get your fucking ass to Logan’s old house IMMEDIATELY.
Johnnie’s mind raced and unease settled into his gut. He knew Bash didn’t mean the farmhouse. It was rubble and overgrowth. No, he was almost certain the motherfucker meant the place where Big Joe had stored money and drugs in the basement.
He couldn’t remember if he’d mentioned that house to Bash or if Bash mentioned it to him. Either way…fuck! Had Bash set up a base there?
Sweat beaded Johnnie’s brow, the order laying his plans to waste.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know Bash was pissed about Tío.
When Easton called Johnnie and told him Tabitha sent Tío after Diesel, fear and sickness invaded Johnnie’s soul.
If Easton knew Tabitha, then she knew Bash, which was confirmed once Easton revealed Tío’s relationship to everyone, though he refused to answer how Tabitha fit in.
Motherfucking Bash had lied to him again! A month ago, he’d sworn to Johnnie he’d never met her with such conviction that Johnnie believed him.
The only person Johnnie could think of to help him was Megan, so he’d fudged Tío’s age. She’d see CJ as a twenty-year-old, whereas she might turn her back on a fully grown motherfucker.
By involving her, Johnnie hoped to remove the greater burden off his shoulders. After all, Christopher would better understand Johnnie’s position if Megan shared culpability.
She’d shocked the fuck out of Johnnie and didn’t fall for it. He’d truly lost her protection.
Glancing at his phone again, Johnnie’s hands trembled. He foresaw disaster. Without Megan, he’d die if Christopher deemed him a traitor and a turncoat. That motherfucker had a personal score to settle and would use Johnnie’s sincere attempts to rescue their women as an excuse to strike.
Megan’s desertion and Christopher’s need for revenge left Johnnie at Bash’s mercy.
An hour later, a gorgeous woman with green eyes, black hair, and a welcoming smile opened the door. Celia, his half-sister. She stepped aside and nodded toward the kitchen.
The bright airiness of the house arrested Johnnie. The last time he’d been inside, the day he’d blasted that Torp to hell and back, a dark gloominess hung over the place. In the state-of-the-art kitchen, Johnnie halted at the sight of Bash, Cleaner, Tabitha, and Easton.
“Where’s Tío?” Bash demanded, glaring at Johnnie. He pointed to Easton. “This motherfucker said he was at Hortensia General. He’s not.”
“The place is crawling with Dwellers,” Johnnie said with indignation. “You went there?”
“Where’s my son?” Bash said, ignoring the question.
Tabitha sniffled
Nausea rose in Johnnie’s gut. “Are you…are you Bash’s daughter?” he whispered, on the verge of tears.
Swiping her cheeks, she shook her head. “His niece.”
His gaze traveled to Celia.
“I’m Charles’s daughter, not Aunt Celia’s,” Tabitha sobbed, grabbing Johnnie’s attention. “I never meant to get Tío hurt.”
Growling, Bash snatched her from her seat and backhanded her.
“Stop it, Sebastian Caldwell!” Celia screeched, rushing forward and helping Tabitha to her feet. “Tío is a grown man. He chose to help her.”
Bash glowered at Celia as she guided their niece back to her seat. “Help her?” he snarled. “Help her!” He kicked the trash can and Johnnie jumped. “Who the fuck told that motherfucker to help her? Not me! Instead of listening to her, he should’ve fucking called me.”
Sighing, Easton stood and walked to the counter, where he grabbed a shitload of paper towels. Once he dampened them, he returned to Tabitha and wiped her bloody nose.
Folding his arms, Cleaner leaned back, throwing Easton a look of distaste, but keeping his fucking mouth shut.
“For the last fucking time,” Bash snarled, refocusing on Johnnie, “where the fuck is Tío?”
“Let me call Mortician,” Johnnie said in conciliatory tones. “He had him transferred from Hortensia General, so Diesel won’t find him.”
Bash stormed to Johnnie and clipped his jaw. “Then transfer that motherfucker back. Let Diesel stomp him before I do.”
“What?” Johnnie asked on a strangled gasp.
“Don’t what me, fuckhead.” Grabbing handfuls of Johnnie’s shirt, Bash yanked him closer.
“That cunt and that stupid fuckhead risked my entire motherfucking operation for nonsense. I didn’t give that fucking order.
They got Shine fucked up.” He shook Johnnie.
“And for fucking what? For the same motherfucking result? Diesel telling this cunt to kick fucking rocks.”
“I’m sorry, Uncle Bash!” Tabitha wailed. “I thought… Tío is vicious. That’s a well-known fact. I didn’t think Diesel could best him. Tío always boasts about no one ever bests him. Everyone cowers to him and…and…I’ve only heard rumors about Diesel.”
Shoving Johnnie away, Bash turned and went for Tabitha again, but Celia grabbed his fist mid-swing.
Growling again, he stomped to the counter and swiped every fucking thing off—coffee pot, mugs, spices, cannisters, utensils, and a variety of other things.
Donuts, eggs, hot coffee, cold evaporated milk, a pitcher of lemonade, a glass of water, apples and oranges flew in all directions.
Banging, clanging, shattering, spattering, and clattering.
Bash screamed, kicked the wall, pounded the cabinets with his fists, and then punched the side of his head. Sweat leaked from Johnnie. He’d never seen that level of insanity.
“You know what the fuck else is well-known, you stupid cunt?” He snatched a knife and lobbed it in their general direction, so fast no one had a chance to react.
Luckily, it didn’t pierce flesh and instead pierced the wall near Cleaner.
“Diesel. Diesel is known far and fucking wide. Diesel is a worse psycho than those three little psychos who pushed me in the fucking water. Diesel, Diesel, Diesel.” He kicked a cabinet door and then yanked another one off the hinges.
“Any fuckhead…a fucking newborn would know to study your fucking opponent before you confront them.” He ripped another door away, his eyes wild.
“I’ve spent years of my fucking life to get what’s mine and that fucking nut butter almost fucked it up in one fucking night. ”
He screamed again before those pale green eyes found Johnnie again.
Raising his hands, Johnnie stumbled back.
“Where the fuck is he?”
“I-I don’t know,” Johnnie croaked, on the verge of sobbing. “Wh-who? Diesel or Tío?”
Celia blinked at him and frowned.
Bash screamed again. “Tío,” he snarled, almost foaming at the fucking mouth. “Fucking find him. Drag his broke ass to me so I can stomp the fuck out of him.”
Snatching the handkerchief from his pocket, Johnnie mopped his sweaty brow, afraid to take his gaze from Bash. “Why me?”
Bash started toward Johnnie, his boots crunching on all the mess strewn over the floor. “Why you? You stupid motherfucker!” he yelled.
Jumping to her feet, Celia blocked Bash from getting any closer to Johnnie.
“Move, Celia.”
“No,” she said stubbornly, so unafraid of the insane motherfucker she turned her back on him and faced Johnnie. “You really don’t know why you?”
Unintelligible mumbles escaped Bash. Johnnie was beginning to wonder if Bash might be high.
“I’ll give you two scenarios, Johnnie,” Celia said, drawing herself up. “Maybe, it’s because you’re a fucking traitor. If you betray your own brother, you’d betray your nephew and deliver him to Bash. We all know if he tells you to jump, you ask how fucking high.”
“That isn’t true!” Johnnie protested.
“Watch your fucking tone toward my little sister,” Bash spat.