Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
SANDRA
"Easy," I murmur, supporting Diesel's weight as he slowly makes his way up the steps to his cabin. "No rush."
Three days in the hospital, and he's already pushing himself too hard. Typical. The man doesn't know how to take it easy, even with broken ribs and a body mottled with bruises in various shades of purple and yellow.
"I'm fine," he grumbles, but the tightness around his eyes betrays the pain each step causes. "Don't need to be babied."
"It's not babying. It's basic medical care," I counter, adjusting my grip on his waist. "Which you'd know if you actually listened to Dr. Mawry instead of nodding while mentally planning your escape."
That gets me a reluctant smile. "Caught that, did you?"
"I'm getting pretty good at reading you." We finally reach the door, and I fumble with the keys. "Though I'm still working on the 'stubborn as a mule' aspect of your personality."
Inside, the cabin is cold and dark. I help Diesel to the couch before turning on lights and cranking up the thermostat. The place has been empty since the night of the accident, and winter has seeped into the walls.
"I'll get a fire started," I say, moving to the woodstove. "You need to take your meds."
"Later," he argues. "Need to keep my head clear."
I turn, hands on hips, fixing him with my best no-nonsense stare. "Take. Your. Meds. Now."
He blinks, clearly not used to being ordered around in his own home. "Yes, ma'am."
"That's more like it." I dig through the pharmacy bag, counting out the correct dosages. "Okay, prove to me you were paying attention when it counted. Water or coffee?"
"Coffee."
"Water it is." I smile sweetly at his scowl, filling a glass from the tap. "Doctor's orders. No caffeine with the pain meds."
Diesel swallows the pills with obvious reluctance, wincing as he leans back against the cushions.
The bruise along his jaw has darkened, and the stitches at his temple stand out starkly against his pale skin.
My chest tightens seeing him like this—strong, capable Diesel reduced to careful movements and pain-filled eyes.
"Stop looking at me like I'm dying," he mutters, catching my worried gaze. "I've had worse."
"That's not as reassuring as you think it is." I sit beside him, careful not to jostle the couch. "And you're right, you're not dying. Because I'm not going to let that happen."
His hand finds mine, fingers interlacing. "You've been amazing, you know that? Most women would have run for the hills by now."
"I'm not most women." I lean over to press a gentle kiss to his uninjured cheek. "And I meant what I said at the hospital. I love you. That doesn't disappear just because things get complicated."
His eyes soften, that rare vulnerable expression that makes my heart skip. "I love you too. More than I knew was possible."
For a moment, we just look at each other, the weight of those words settling around us. Three weeks ago, I was a stranger breaking down in his garage. Now, I can't imagine my life without him.
"So," I say, reluctantly breaking the moment. "Let's talk about Vanessa."
Diesel sighs, fingers tightening around mine. "I've been thinking about it. There's no way to reason with her. She wants what she wants, and she doesn't care who she hurts to get it."
"What about going to Vancouver? Speaking to this Officer Reid you mentioned? Surely if she's threatening you, that violates some kind of condition for her brother's parole hearing."
He shakes his head. "Reid retired two years ago. And even if he hadn't, it would be my word against hers. No proof."
"The car that hit you—"
"Stolen, according to Parker. Found abandoned outside town limits. Wiped clean."
I chew my lip, frustration building. "So we just what, wait for her to make another move? Hope it's not worse next time?"
"No." Diesel's voice hardens. "We set a trap."
"What kind of trap?" I ask, not entirely sure I like where this is heading.
"We give her what she wants. Or let her think we are." His eyes take on that focused gleam I've seen when he's solving a particularly tricky mechanical problem. "I'll tell her I'm willing to recant my testimony, but I want money. Enough to disappear, start over somewhere new."
"You'd do that? Lie to help her brother get out of prison?" The thought makes me uneasy.
"No," he says firmly. "I'll record everything. Get her on tape admitting to the hit and run, the blackmail, all of it. Then take it to the Vancouver PD. Even if her brother still gets his parole hearing, she'll be facing charges of her own."
It's not a bad plan, but the risks are obvious. "What if she suspects a trap? She already tried to kill you once, Diesel."
"She won't meet alone," he admits. "She'll have muscle with her. But that's where you come in."
"Me?" I sit up straighter. "What do I do?"
"You'll be nearby with Sheriff Parker on speed dial, recording everything as backup. If things go south, you call him immediately."
I don't like the idea of him facing Vanessa and her thugs alone, but it's better than doing nothing. "When?"
"Tomorrow night. I'll text her in the morning, set it up." He shifts, grimacing at the movement. "Neutral location. Public enough to discourage violence, private enough for our conversation."
"The Velvet Antler back room," I suggest. "Silas knows you, and there's that private area in the back for wine tastings."
Diesel nods slowly. "That could work. Silas is discreet, and he's got security cameras."
"And I can be at the bar, close enough to hear but not obviously with you." The plan starts taking shape in my mind, each detail falling into place. "We might actually pull this off."
"We will," Diesel says with quiet confidence. "And then Vanessa will be out of our lives for good."
Our lives. The casual way he links our futures sends warmth through me. "I like the sound of that."
His expression softens again. "Me too."
We spend the next hour refining the plan, considering every angle, every potential problem. The pain medication eventually kicks in, and Diesel's eyelids grow heavy, his responses slower.
"You need rest," I tell him, helping him to his feet. "Bed, now."
"Bossy," he mumbles, but lets me guide him to the bedroom. "You staying?"
"Try to get rid of me." I help him undress, careful of his bandages and bruises. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until Vanessa is behind bars or back in Vancouver."
Once he's settled under the covers, I quickly change into one of his t-shirts—now my preferred sleepwear—and join him, curling carefully against his uninjured side. He lifts his arm, inviting me closer despite the pain it must cause.
"We'll fix this," I promise, resting my head gently on his shoulder. "And then we can get back to the important things, like rebuilding my car."
He chuckles, the sound rumbling under my ear. "Is that all you want from me? My mechanical skills?"
I tilt my head to meet his eyes. "Well, not all," I tease. "Your cooking isn't bad either."
"Brat," he murmurs fondly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Good thing I love you."
"Good thing," I agree, settling back against him. "Now sleep. Tomorrow, we take down your evil ex-wife."
"Yes, ma'am," he says again, this time without argument.
I lie awake long after his breathing evens out, my mind racing with preparations, contingencies, worst-case scenarios. The plan is solid, but Vanessa is clearly dangerous. Unpredictable. If something goes wrong...
No. I refuse to let fear paralyze me. For five years, Diesel has been rebuilding his life, becoming the man I fell in love with. I won't let Vanessa destroy that. Won't let her take him from me, not when I've just found him.
Tomorrow, we fight back.
Morning brings heavy snow and a text from Vanessa agreeing to meet at The Velvet Antler at eight. Diesel is moving better, though he still winces with certain movements. We spend the day preparing—setting up our phones to record, going over what he'll say, what I'll do if things go wrong.
By seven, we're as ready as we'll ever be. I help Diesel into his jacket, careful of his ribs. He looks pale but determined, jaw set in that stubborn line I've come to know so well.
"Remember the plan," he says as we climb into my rental car. I've been driving us since he's still on pain medication. "If anything seems off, you call Parker immediately. Don't try to intervene yourself."
"I know." I squeeze his hand. "Same goes for you. If she doesn't take the bait, if she seems suspicious, walk away. We'll find another way."
The drive to The Velvet Antler is tense, both of us lost in thought. The snow has tapered off, but the roads are still slick, requiring my full attention. We arrive twenty minutes early, as planned.
"I'll go in first," I remind him. "Get settled at the bar. You come in ten minutes later and head straight to the back room."
He nods, eyes scanning the parking lot for any signs of Vanessa or her people. "Be careful," he says, voice low and serious.
"You too." I lean over to kiss him, trying to convey everything I'm feeling in that brief contact. "I love you."
"I love you," he responds immediately, like it's the most natural thing in the world. "See you soon."
Inside, The Velvet Antler is quiet for a Tuesday night.
A few regulars at the bar, a couple in a corner booth.
Silas nods to me from behind the counter, his gaze questioning.
We hadn't told him the details, just asked if we could use the back room tonight.
He agreed without pressing for information.
I take a seat at the bar with a clear view of the door and the entrance to the back room, ordering a glass of wine I have no intention of drinking. My phone sits on the bar beside me, already recording.
Ten minutes stretch into eternity. Finally, Diesel enters, scanning the room before giving me the slightest nod and heading to the back. He looks like hell, but there's a strength in his posture that tells me he's ready for this.