Chapter Thirteen—Easton #2
The one person Tío feared was Bash. Aunt Celia’s threat got Tío into line.
He might not have liked her calling him down, but he’d never act, though she’d stood up to him on more than one occasion.
Bash’s love for Aunt Celia was never in question, and it was that love, and Bash’s willingness to protect her at all costs, that saved her from Tío’s retribution.
She was the only person he’d kill Tío over.
“And if any harm befalls your brother—” She nodded to Easton and folded her arms, still refusing to look at Tío because of that fucking head. The intestines resembled a length of sausages around his neck. “I will tell Bash to fuck you up. I love both of you.”
“You knew me first!” Tío huffed.
The doorbell rang again. “Both of you clean up,” she said briskly. “That’s your cousin. She needs to talk to us.”
Listening to motherfucking Tabitha whine would be the goddamn icing on the crazy cake.
Twenty minutes later, Easton sat at the kitchen table with Tabitha and Aunt Celia.
She loved the gray and white kitchen with windows on each side of the sink.
She’d told Easton that she never saw such a big stove or owned a double-sided refrigerator/freezer and an ice maker and dispensers for ice and water.
Her awe that she owned the type of appliances he’d taken for granted in the DeLuca household seemed inordinately sweet, considering her relations.
Thankfully, the clean-up crew had arrived and Tío chose to help them with disposal. More blood and gore to wallow in.
“I’m still sorry we’re cousins,” Tabitha cooed, grinning at him.
Aunt Celia snorted; Easton grunted.
Tabitha took a delicate sip of her bottled water. “But you do need to step up your flirting game with me, cousin. It makes you suspicious since you’re about the only red-blooded male in the club who hasn’t tried to get into my panties.”
Keeping his opinion to himself, Easton gulped beer. He needed a fuck. Instead, he was sitting here listening to her.
“What do you want, Tabi?” Aunt Celia asked sternly. “You know it’s a risk coming here. You could’ve been followed.”
“I wasn’t, Aunt.” Tabitha was the daughter of one of Bash’s half-brothers—one of the motherfuckers Outlaw killed because they’d had the bright idea to kidnap him.
Easton always forgot which one, since five of those idiots got themselves fucked up and several more were scattered around the world. Many of them lost their appetite for the biker lifestyle. At least the ones not in prison because of Outlaw’s machinations.
“But I do have news.” While she styled herself as Tabitha Caldwell, using Diesel’s adopted last name, when she hyphenated it, it was Tabitha Caldwell-Rivers. She made a face, before her eyes lit up. “Both good and bad.”
Leaning back, Aunt Celia lifted her brow.
“Which do you want first, Aunt?”
“Whichever one suits your fancy,” Aunt Celia responded.
“Okay, then the bad.” Clearing her throat and patting her chest, Tabitha leaned forward.
“Diesel has filed for legal separation.” Her eyes watered and her nose reddened.
Easton doubted her honesty. She could manufacture sadness on a dime.
“That’s one step away from a divorce, Aunt.
I love him so much. I know Uncle Bash said not to call him unless absolutely necessary, but I need him to force Diesel to stay married to me. ”
“Are we talking about the same fucking Diesel?” Easton demanded. “From the little I know about him, I guarantee he can’t be forced into anything.”
“Anyone can be convinced to follow orders,” Tabitha cried.
Aunt Celia rolled her eyes. “It’s my experience that if a man doesn’t want you, he’ll make your life miserable, Tabi. Maybe, this is best. You’ve been fighting to make him feel something for you from the beginning of your marriage.”
“I-I thought cutting out Meggie would be the right thing. He’d see how invaluable I was. All it’s done is make her dislike me and turn Diesel away from me. He’s loyal to her.”
“She’s his mother,” Aunt Celia said.
“She’s six fucking years older than him. Unless she’s a medical anomaly, she’s far from his mom.”
Aunt Celia glared at her. She’d perfected that Caldwell glower that sent shivers down the spine. “You’re right, Tabitha,” she said coldly. “She’s his mom. The bitch who gave birth to him and then abandoned him is his mother.”
Blinking, Tabitha glanced away and her shoulders slumped. Not going to lie—the realness of her dejection surprised Easton.
“I might not act like it, but I love Diesel,” she whispered.
Fuck him, if she didn’t look and sound sincere.
He’d witnessed more moods from her than he ever needed to.
She was spoiled, overly dramatic, and hypersexual.
Her bought tits and ass turned motherfuckers stupid.
She was reasonably intelligent when she wasn’t scheming to have her fucking way.
He’d never seen such raw pain or heard such sadness.
Her brown hair was pinned up and she went without makeup. She looked young and devastated.
His heart almost went out to his cousin. Even if she truly loved Diesel, she was still a viper underneath.
She leaned across the little table and grabbed Aunt Celia’s hands. “Please, Aunt. Ask Uncle Bash to make Diesel stay married to me for another six months. If I can’t change his mind by then, I’ll concede and walk away.”
Easton finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the table. “May I make a suggestion?”
Tabitha straightened. “Anything, if you think it’ll help.”
“Stop fucking with Rebel and you might win over your husband.”
“It’s because of her that Diesel hates me,” Tabitha snarled, swiping at her tears. Anger flushed her cheeks and she narrowed her eyes. “She wants to fuck him. Her own brother.”
Tangling her fingers through her hair, Aunt Celia groaned. “Our family tree has enough overgrown brambles, so don’t make it worse. He’s her adopted brother.”
“I don’t care! I hate that he fucks everything he sees, but I hate her most of all. Spoiled little rich slut.”
Easton understood why she’d gone from gathering information for Bash to actively helping to set Meggie up to be brutally raped and killed.
Easton pressed his lips together, hoping Rory bought his lies. All the kid would do was get himself killed if he kept digging.
“Bash has already told you not to fuck with Outlaw’s children,” Aunt Celia snapped.
“And I listened! I’m not trying to send her to the fucking cabin, although I’d run naked through a field of wildflowers if Uncle Bash agreed to the switch.” She poked out her lip. “Here’s my good news.”
Wild subject change.
“Rebel might not be an issue anymore.”
“Why is that?” Aunt Celia asked suspiciously.
“Because her crazy twin almost drowned her.”
Fuck. He glared at Tabitha, cursing her to fucking hell for opening her fucking mouth. If Bash got wind of this, he might use it as an opportunity to strike. Meggie was currently out of reach, but Kendall and Mattie went on about their lives.
Why did everything concerning Bash have to be so fucking complicated?
“I’ve been waiting for word that she fucking croaked, but I guess Uncle Christopher’s money is keeping her alive.”
Aunt Celia’s color dropped from her face. She almost looked as shaken as Easton felt, hearing Tabitha refer to Outlaw as her uncle—which he was biologically not just because Diesel referred to him that way—jolted him.
“Well,” Aunt Celia managed. “This is a new development. And not good news.”
“Not for you, Aunt.”
“I lost a daughter, so I know the trauma,” she said quietly. “It changed my entire life. I stopped riding. Stopped smoking. Almost stopped living. Daddy never told me who killed her, but I know it was because of him. One of his favorite club girls disappeared, too.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Celia,” Tabitha said in a watery voice. “I’m sorry you went through that. You aren’t them, though. Meggie and Rebel,” she qualified. “Blonde, blue-eyed, wealthy, and perfect. It should ease your mind to know that Meggie isn’t feeling the same pain.”
“Rebel is still alive,” Aunt Celia acknowledged.
“No, she saved Rebel and got her ass beat. She’s in the hospital with her bitch of a daughter.”
Easton kept his expression blank. It would be so fucking cliché to admit his attraction to Megan Caldwell.
Unfortunately, it was there, although he’d cut off his own cock before he admitted that shit to anyone else.
He admired her loyalty and love for her husband.
But Easton knew hell was on the way and his life hung in the balance.
Johnnie jumped at Bash’s every order, afraid to disobey, even though he searched for a solution without starting a fucking war on his own.
His genius idea was to stonewall Outlaw’s efforts and force him to sue for peace.
Bash had described, in detail, his plans for Meggie, and that fucking idiot didn’t believe him.
His fucking teenaged son had a better understanding of the serious danger to her.
Aunt Celia was trying to change Bash’s mind. Easton’s only option was to forfeit his own life on a woman who’d never even fucking kiss him. If he revealed Bash’s plans to Outlaw, Bash would kill Easton if he escaped Outlaw’s wrath.
The last time Easton saw Bash he was out of money and out of drugs.
His most recent supplier, Roman Mac, had gone underground after that motherfucker stole Tío’s woman.
Roman was better for London, but he’d committed a grave fucking offense since he’d missed Bash’s deadline to get her.
Unfortunately, Bash found ways to feed his habit and fuel his psychotic rage.
It was a fucking clusterfuck of royal proportions with so many variables that one wrong move could send Bash over the edge.
“Bash has to know,” Aunt Celia decided. “It’s the only reason he’s hitting the Scorched Devils so hard without repercussions. Outlaw is distracted.”
Fuck, she was right.
“Shine probably told him,” Tabitha admitted petulantly.
Oh, yeah. Shine. That fucking asshole, escaping the fate of Dementor and crew because he was so much better at spying. Another motherfucker Easton didn’t like.
“Are you still sucking Shine’s cock?” Aunt Celia asked.
“Diesel moved out of our condo,” Tabitha wailed. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Keep your fucking mouth and legs closed,” Aunt Celia said with a straight face.
“He even took Jana away from me.”
“Your goddamn—”
Tabitha held up her hand and interrupted Aunt Celia. “To be fair, I didn’t know Jana was Uncle Johnnie’s daughter when we first started fucking.”
A pained expression crossed Aunt Celia’s face, quickly morphing into distaste. “Bash didn’t know Diesel knew Jana. My brother would’ve told you. Now that you know I hope you’ve backed away?”
Easton understood why she posed it as a question. One never knew with Tabitha’s questionable morals.
“It doesn’t matter. She only came for him anyway. He looks at her, the way I long for him to look at me,” she said as Tío walked into the room, even more bloody than earlier.
Hands flying to her mouth, Tabitha let out a small scream.
“Chimba!” Tío greeted. He looked at his bloody hands. “La siento.”
“If you’re sorry, get the fuck out of here,” Aunt Celia grumbled.
Easton gritted his teeth. Whenever that stupid motherfucker was around women, especially ones he found attractive, he thickened his accent and leaned into his mother’s native language.
“You’re all bloody,” Tabitha squeaked.
“Just tying up some loose ends. Don’t worry about it. But who’s ignoring you and looking at some puta?”
“My husband. Diesel,” Tabitha added as if Tío didn’t know. “I don’t know what to do.”
“CJ’s big bro, si?”
Another piece of information Tío knew. Ever since Bash remarked in passing that he resembled CJ, Tío had developed an unnatural hatred toward their cousin. Admittedly, something about Tío resembled CJ, but the motherfucker wished he was as good looking.
“Yeah,” Tabitha confirmed, her lips trembling.
“Fucking pussy in a business suit, pretending to be a badass,” Tío scoffed.
Rumors about Diesel’s brutality ran rampant in the club. Knowledge Tío didn’t have and Tabitha apparently didn’t believe if she’d heard them. Shine would know. Why that braindead fuckhead wouldn’t tell Tío not to fuck with Diesel, Easton didn’t know.
As much as he didn’t like his half-brother, they were family. Easton didn’t want Tío to fuck with a man who was not only unafraid to shed blood but quick to do it.
“Leave that shit alone, Tío,” Easton advised. “Don’t fuck with Diesel, especially without running the idea by Bash. Diesel’s a madman. He might fucking kill you.”
“You don’t have shit to tell me, sapo. I do what the fuck I want to,” Tío growled, punching his chest. “No motherfucker around can stop me. Papi knows that. He won’t care if I wipe the fucking floor clean with that motherfucker.”
Easton lifted a brow at Tabitha, hoping she opened her fucking mouth and confessed.
“You know why he put me in charge?” Tío smirked at Easton. “Because you’re a fucking pussy, too. You’d run to him for every little deviation from the plan. Me?” He directed his thumb toward himself. “I don’t need permission to handle motherfuckers.”
“You don’t want to fuck with Diesel, brother,” Easton reiterated, holding onto his temper—and his fucking sanity—by a thread. “Not yet. At least study your op first. Or let me hang around him a little more. Granted, I haven’t seen him in action. I’ve only heard rumors, but–”
Tío swept Easton with a look of disgust. “Fuck you.”
“Easton’s right, Tío,” Aunt Celia broke in. “It is always better to have a complete picture before you take on the enemy.”
“No, Aunt.” Tío’s lip curled into a sneer. “Cousin Tabitha needs me to step up for her.”
“I do,” Tabitha said primly.
Easton glared at her. “You sure you want to send Tío to your fucking husband?”
Tabitha rolled her eyes. “I never took you for a coward.”
“I’m not—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Tío ordered. “I need amusement. Papi has forbidden me to touch CJ for now.” He smiled at Easton. “Text that motherfucker and pretend I’m a client in desperate need.”
“Fuck no. I’m not sending you to your fucking death.” No matter how much easier Easton’s life would be. Motherfucker’s death would hurt Aunt Celia and send Bash into a further spiral.
“Do it, Easton, or I’m calling Papi, and telling him you met with Rory Donovan.”
Easton’s gaze flew to Tío’s; the motherfucker smirked.
“You fucked up, sapo. I finally have something to keep you in fucking line. Now, text that motherfucker so I can pay him a visit and show him who’s boss.”