Drumming his fingers on his lap, Johnny sat waiting on a vacant bench in the airport with his luggage— a single dark suitcase— propped at his side. A crowd jostled around, people hurrying through the check-ins to board their flights. His flight wasn't leaving for another half-hour. Quite enough time, yet he felt impatient. Nervous, oddly enough. He felt like he did as a teenager, waiting for his father to chastise him on his latest fuck-up.
In Nathaniel Ramus's eyes, Johnny had a long list of fuck-ups.
It was per Navaya's wish that he sat there. That was what she wanted. They had agreed to convene at that very spot amid a throng of his deftly stealth guards that Johnny purposely kept Navaya oblivious of.
He was just early.
