Chapter 28 Diesel
TWENTY-EIGHT
DIESEL
Another van, another chance for this to be over. I hate leaving Makenna behind, but if we can end this today…
I glance across at Riot, who is sitting with Blade. I don’t think he’s slept. There are dark smudges under his eyes, and his brow is drawn tight. I can see the grief under Riot’s skin. None of us have said it out loud, but Chloe’s death cracked something open between us.
Every bone in my body vibrates with the need to put Crank in the ground. To finish this. I can’t keep leaving Kenna with a loaded gun, like she’s a soldier fighting in a war she didn’t sign up for. She’s not collateral. She’s my wife, and she deserves better than this.
I tap my forefinger against my knee, needing the motion to soothe the static fuzz in my head. Every second I’m not with her feels like a gamble, one I’m not willing to take for much longer. I want her safe, and I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that.
“Such a shame what happened,” Blade says. I slide my gaze toward him. So does Riot. “She was so young. What a waste of potential.”
His tone sounds right, but I read the insincerity. There’s excitement in his eyes, even though he’s trying to look grief stricken.
I stop tapping and curl my fingers into my palms.
“She was driven to it.” Riot’s voice is hollow. Flat. Like a man with no idea what he’s still fighting for. “Should never have happened.”
“It shouldn’t have,” Blade agrees, “but you just never know what’s going on inside a troubled mind. And Chloe was a troubled young lady. She had to be to let that creep touch her.”
There’s a slight twitch of Blade’s lips. It’s so subtle, so quick, I nearly miss it. Every part of my body is alert. He doesn’t give a shit about Chloe, and I don’t know why he’s pretending he did.
“You never cared about the girl,” I say, flat.
He lifts his gaze to me. His eyes narrow a fraction.
“I cared about as much as you did. Didn’t see you dragging her out of the clubhouse.”
The words land like a punch. He’s not wrong. I didn’t do shit to help her. We all let her drown in a place that should have been safe for her.
“No one could’ve done anything,” Nic says from the driver’s seat, his gaze locked on the road.
“She didn’t want to be helped. I tried. Her death–” He breaks off, like the words stick in his throat like knives.
Hearing the hurt in his voice is new. And fucking dangerous.
I’ve seen him cut throats and burn bodies, but I’ve never heard him so raw. “It’s not on us.”
That part he says softly, like it costs him.
Because he’s wrong. It is on us. We should’ve done more. Could have done more.
“We’ve lost too many already,” Blade says. “Chloe and King… It’s enough.”
This time it’s my eyes narrowing. “King isn’t dead.”
The silence that follows is sharp, like the edge of a knife. The air thickens as the tension swirls.
Blade slices a look at me, his expression unchanging. “Let’s hope it stays that way, but he’s been unconscious since we found him. Doesn’t look good.”
“We’re here,” Nic says, bringing the van to a stop.
A prickle runs up my spine. Everything about this feels wrong. Blade’s too calm. Riot’s too quiet, and Nic’s wrapped up in his grief. I don’t like it. I feel the tension like a breath across my nape. All I want to do is get back to Makenna.
“Showtime,” Blade says. “Or maybe the final curtain call. Either way, someone’s bleeding before we leave.”
We climb out of the van, and Nic closes the door quietly, walking around the back. “Everyone ready?”
Unease prickles the back of my neck. I’ve learned over the years to trust my intuition and right now it’s flashing warning lights. “Are the others joining us?”
Nic shakes his head. “Too much noise with the whole crew. Figured we could get in faster with just the four of us.”
Again, that strange constriction through my chest hits. Four men. Walking into a building with no backup. This has ambush written all over it.
The building in front of us is derelict, half the windows put through, the red brick smothered by foliage.
In the distance there are the husks of old train carriages, the paintwork flaking, tagged with graffiti that might be the only thing holding the structure together.
It’s the kind of place where no one comes looking.
We move together, low, careful but fast.
The light changes as we get inside the building, slipping through a broken door. It’s cold, the air damp and musty. Blade keeps close to Nic’s back, and I stay behind him and Riot.
I am not taking a bullet to the back, not when I still have something worth living for.
Nic signals for us to split off. I don’t like the idea, but I follow Riot. We move through the maze of corridors and rooms with slow purposeful steps. I listen and I watch for any movement that might be Crank and whatever men he still has loyal to him.
But I can already sense the building is empty. It’s too still, like a mausoleum.
“If they were here,” Riot says, lowering his gun, “they’re gone now.”
We step onto a walkway overlooking a large space beneath and my heart stops. Riot’s arm flies up to stop me, but it’s too late. My stomach’s already bottomed out.
All I see is one brother on his knees, another behind him with a gun pressed to the back of his skull.
“Fucker,” Riot breathes the word.
We move in tandem, quick steps as silent as we can. I can hear Blade’s voice reverberating around the high ceilings. I can also hear my pulse thumping in my ears.
We take the steps down a floor, trying not to make a sound. Riot carefully eases the door open at the bottom, and we slip out and into cover.
“… Really are a stupid bastard,” Blade says to Nic, pressing the gun harder against the back of his head. “You honestly believe I’d back you? You think legacy makes you fit to lead?”
Nic snarls. “You backstabbing fucker.”
“Is it really backstabbing,” Blade asks, “if it’s for the good of the club?”
He says it like he thinks he’s being reasonable. Like this is just business, not betrayal.
“You being in charge of anything ain’t good for anyone,” Riot says, stepping out from behind our hiding place.
His gun is levelled at Blade, his finger hovering over the trigger. He doesn’t shoot. He can’t. With that gun so close to Nic’s head there’s every chance we lose both of them.
I move up beside him, my weapon drawn too. There’s a roaring in my head. Nic vouched for him. Nic trusted him, despite everyone telling him Blade was dirty.
Even I was starting to wonder if we had him wrong.
And now… Now we might lose the one guy who can drag our chapter out of the fucking mud and rebuild it.
Blade doesn’t turn. “Glad you could join me, brothers.”
Riot’s lips curl into a sneer. “You don’t get to use that word, not when you’re holding a gun to his head.”
Blade finally cuts a glance over his shoulder. “Figured that would be your stance. You’d follow this idiot into your grave.” His eyes slide from Riot to me. “They ain’t walking out of this room alive, but you can, Diesel.”
He’s daring me to choose. To pick a side. The gun in my hand is heavy, but not as weighted as the way Riot is looking at me.
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Riot growls.
But Blade isn’t looking at him. He’s focused on me. His arm doesn’t waver, the gun still pressed to Nic’s head. I swallow bile.
“They left you to rot. This prick called you a traitor. Me? I see you for what you are. An asset. We’ll clean the club together.”
I don’t speak. I tap my tongue against my teeth. I can’t keep the rhythm, my brain too frazzled. I thought he was dirty, but I never expected this.
“You really think that prick can keep your girl safe?” Blade continues. “He can’t even find Crank.”
“So what? I ride with you and Crank?” I ask, ignoring the way Riot stiffens to the side of me. “I clean up your messes?”
“Fuck Crank. He ain’t going to survive the day.”
Ice pitches through my stomach. What the hell does that mean? Does he have a lead on him?
“Diesel.” Nic’s voice cracks with warning. Beneath it, I hear a thread of fear. A plea.
“You’re not seriously listening to this dickhead, are you?” Riot snaps. I step closer, lowering my gun. Blade grins, and Riot swings his weapon between him and me. “You fucking rats.”
I ignore him. The only thing I’m looking at is the gun pressed to Nic’s head. “You can keep her safe?” I ask Blade.
He shifts his shoulders like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Of course. That’s what a good president does.”
“You think Ravage or the others are going to let you just take the gavel?” Riot hisses, shifting slightly on his feet as if he’s going to attack, but common sense holds him back.
Blade gives him a smile that makes my stomach turn. “Shoot him,” he says to me. “We’ll call that your first act of loyalty.”
Riot’s mouth pulls into a line, his gun sliding between me and Blade. “You kill us and there won’t be a single rock for you to hide under.”
“I want your word,” I say to Blade. “Nothing touches Makenna.”
I’m barely an arm’s length from him now. The weight of my kutte is suffocating. The patch on my back means nothing if I can’t keep her breathing.
I hold steady. Nothing matters but this moment.
“You have it, brother.”
I lift my gun to point at Riot. His eyes blaze. “I fuckin’ knew it. I knew you were fucking traitor.”
He doesn’t know shit. He doesn’t have the first clue about the lengths I will go to in order to keep my wife safe.
Blade smirks. “Welcome to my chapter.”
He lowers the gun just a fraction from Nicky’s head, and it’s all I need. I swing my arm until the barrel of my gun is pressed to Blade’s forehead. His eyes widen, realisation dawning in them.
“You’d really rather follow them than have a chance at being right hand?”
“I’d rather grate my balls than sit at your fucking table,” I hiss.
Blade takes a steady breath, but I can see the faint tremble running through him. None of this has played out how he expected. He thought he could kill Nic without anyone seeing. He didn’t expect me and Riot to ruin his plan. And he really thought I’d stand with him over Nic.
“Then I guess I shoot your president.”
It happens so fast. Blade pulls the trigger. My breath lodges somewhere between my lungs and my throat. The world slows down, tunnelling to this moment. I’m not sure if I make a sound, not sure how my panic manifests, because nothing happens.
The gun clicks.
No shot.
No bullet.
Blade squeezes the trigger again.
Click.
Click.
Click.
He snarls as Nic stands slowly, like fucking Lazarus rising from the dead. Riot steps in behind Blade, pressing his gun against his temple. “Game over, fuckface.” He slices a look at me, respect bouncing in his eyes. “Never doubted you for a second.”
I snort. Riot takes the gun off Blade, forcing him onto his knees. Blade doesn’t speak, doesn’t beg. Just stares like he can’t understand how he ended up here.
Nic stands behind him and grabs a handful of hair, tugging Blade’s head back.
“You think I didn’t know? You think I let you sit at my table without knowing every move you’ve made?
I knew you were a rat. Didn’t know how far you’d go to take power though.
” He pulls his hair harder until his neck is so hyper-extended that I can see his Adam’s apple bobbing with every swallow. “Chloe? Why?”
Blade laughs, bitter and angry. “Wasn’t sure how much she knew.” His shrug is casual, as if her life was worth nothing. “She was a liability. She had to go.”
My stomach drops. He killed her? But it was… She cut her wrists…
“You really are a piece of shit,” Riot snarls.
A door opens behind us, and my back straightens. Mace, Ravage and Nox step out. It’s at this moment I understand why Rav is the national president. He looks like a wall of terror. He glances between us before his eyes land on Blade, on his knees.
“You betrayed the patch,” he says.
“I tried to save it,” Blade counters.
Nic ducks down. “You tried to destabilise everything we’re working for.
Oh, and Chloe? She was our best piece of evidence against you.
” He lowers his voice. “She ain’t dead. Chloe woke up this morning, told us exactly what you did to her.
How you tried to make it look like she’d taken her own life. ”
He pales but laughs. “Of course that bitch survived.”
“You’re done.” Nox steps forward and drags his kutte off his back. Blade doesn’t fight. There’s no point. He’s completely outnumbered.
Nic steps back, releasing his hold on Blade’s hair. He crowds into my space, every inch the fucking king he’s becoming. “Wasn’t just him I was testing today,” he says.
I don’t blink, don’t move. I should be offended by that. But I’m not. I would’ve done the same.
“I take it I passed.”
His lip quirks. “Yeah, brother. You passed.” He drops his hands to his hips. “Had to know you’d choose the club.”
I chose whatever version of the club was good for her. “Now you know I’m loyal.”
“Now I know.”
Blade laughs, and we all look at him. “Shut the fuck up,” Riot smacks him over the back of the head. He falls forward onto his hands but keeps laughing.
“You really think I came here with no plan?”
“I don’t really give a shit what your plan was,” Nic tells him, looking to Mace. “Bind his hands.”
“You should. You see, while I was taking care of you, I may have let Crank believe that the clubhouse was going to be empty of brothers.”
Cold spreads through me. “Why?”
“Because Crank is a coward. He thought I was picking off the main bulk of you while he took care of the stragglers. But I’ve sent him into a firefight with the majority of the club.
My plan was simple. They take him out. I take Nic out and then I put myself forward for president.
” His gaze slides to me. “I really do hope that your girl doesn’t get caught in the crossfire.
That would be a tragedy, especially considering my offer. ”
I stumble back. My heart slams against my ribs like it’s trying to burst out of my chest and my blood turns to ice.
Not Makenna.
Not my firefly.
I run for the exit.