Meanwhile, Macon was sitting in a club, a blonde bimbo on his lap, smoking. His mom was passed out somewhere at home, but he could careless. His thoughts were consumed with Macy.

He whipped out his cell, shooed the bimbo and dialed Shane. “My man.â€? Shane answered, “How’s the north?â€?

“Boring as hell. I need a favor.â€? Macon replied, sitting up on the leather couch. “It has to do with Macy.â€?

“You shouldn’t have called me.â€?

“Well I did. You are close to her, right? She’d do anything for you.â€?

“Doubt that now. She’s over at Derrick’s and if this is some plot of yours, bye.”

“No. It’s much more…civil. Oh screw that, I want her. Specifically. So, just get me a plane back.â€?

“You’re the extremely rich millionaire ass, remember?â€?

“Yes but oh well. Get me a plane for tonight.â€? And he hung up, satisfied that he could order around his friends. Macon would be calling the shots now, not Shane anymore, which means trouble of course.