8. Diesel
8
DIESEL
T ossing his duffle bag into the back of the SUV, Diesel took a deep breath of fresh Parisian air and let the smell of freedom set in.
Okay, perhaps he was exaggerating. He wasn’t locked away in a tower somewhere, but he was under the watchful eye of a certain overbearing Italian. And if you have ever pissed off an Italian, you know how scary their oversight can be.
“Wait up!” someone shouted from behind Diesel.
He turned, half expecting one of the security staff to remind him of something he’d forgotten. Instead, Chase and Jared were both making their way over to him.
“What’s with the body bag?” Diesel asked, referring to the camouflage duffle Jared had slung over his shoulder. Damn, the boy’s muscles were huge .
“It’s filled with snacks for our trip.” Jared smirked, tossing his bag into the back of the SUV as well.
Like Diesel would believe that Jared would eat his body weight in candy for one second. The man calculated his calorie intake at every meal just so that he knew how long he would have to work out in order to burn off the food he just consumed.
Guess Jared was joining them on their trip.
“And the Mrs. is okay with letting you out of his sight for more than ten minutes?” Speaking of the devil.
He watched as a streak of blue came barreling out of the front doors.
“Need my goodbye kiss,” Isaac claimed, jumping into Jared’s arms and making out with him like the two were searching for buried treasure conveniently located in the back of Jared’s throat.
“Sickening, isn’t it?” Chase said, stopping right behind the two love birds.
“Does Matteo know what he’s doing by taking away Isaac’s favorite toy? I pity the rest of the poor souls staying behind,” Diesel quipped.
Chase gave a chuckle.
“Matteo’s allowed them two weekend visits a month until all this is done. Here, give me your arm.” Chase pulled a black wristwatch out of his pocket and held it up in his hand. “A gift from Daddy M.”
Diesel held out his arm as Chase fastened the plastic device to it with an unsettling click.
“Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t a love gift?” Diesel asked skeptically.
“It is. It’s because Daddy M loves you that he asked me to place one of Marc’s nifty little trackers on you—you know—in case you decide to pull a Houdini on us again and run off.”
Shocked and a little offended, Diesel raised his wrist in disbelief. He turned his arm and examined the pesky device that Marc had created. Marc was Chase’s boss, a security expert and all-around genius. The man had designed and created his own mini tracking device that could be inserted into any piece of clothing or jewelry. It allowed the operator to track the person’s movements using a third-party device. The thing was designed to be untraceable if someone were to scan the individual searching for tracking devices.
“Don’t bother trying to remove it. There’s a special key that’s needed, and guess who’s holding it?” Chase gave him a smirk.
“Can’t believe I’m now basically tagged cattle.”
“Hey! Doesn’t it record voices as well?” Isaac asked with an evil smirk and puffy red lips.
Diesel’s head snapped toward Chase. Isaac was right! He never felt so betrayed.
“Calm your nuts. Matteo insisted that the voice recording function be turned off. I guess he didn’t want to suffer through all the vile things he was likely to hear.”
“I make no apologies for the life that I live,” Diesel defended, not sorry in the least.
It appeared that Big Brother wasn’t listening… he was just… following.
Deciding to give it a little test, Diesel raised his wrist to his lips and whispered, “Matteo likes to suck old-man balls before showering his face with day-old spunk.”
They all held their breath, waiting to see if their boss and surrogate father would come bursting through the doors.
Nothing happened.
“Okay, now that we’re done playing around, let’s get our asses moving,” Chase ordered, opening the passenger-side door and hopping in.
They took Matteo’s private jet over to London, making it easier to transport all their equipment. Chase already had a skeleton crew over in London doing some investigative work for him.
From what Diesel had overheard, their investigation hadn’t been going well, and this was Chase’s last-ditch effort at finding any incriminating evidence of the suspect’s alleged crimes.
Perhaps Edwin had created a fake entry into his journal with the hopes that if it was ever obtained by the authorities, they might have one hell of a time trying to determine which entries were real and which were fake.
They needed to be sure that the crimes listed in the journal were real. The last thing they wanted was to take out a man who was innocent of the crimes he was accused of.
So far, Chase and his boss Marc had investigated a handful of entries over the past two years, all of which turned out to be real. Each of the monsters located suffered a fate befitting the crimes they committed.
One such prisoner was currently locked up in Matteo’s dungeon—yes, Matteo had a fucking dungeon at the chateau!
Landing in London, they headed right to the terraced house in which they were staying. When they arrived, Diesel took in the common-style row of attached houses, all perfectly matched, all soulless and plain.
What did he expect? Chase and team were on a tight budget, and considering there were a few of them staying here, he was lucky they weren’t all being crammed into a tiny apartment.
The outer brick of the home was a dull brown stone. Judging by the discoloration and dirt built up around the edges, Diesel guessed that the structure was at least sixty years old. The windows themselves were another matter entirely. Considering the amount of rain that London gets each year, one would not expect the level of grime and waste caked onto the surface of the glass. It was as if the surface repelled water and soap.
The only redeeming quality that Diesel could see was the large bay windows that protruded from the property. Perhaps with a bit of elbow grease, people could actually enjoy staring out of the living room window—not that there was much of a view to look out onto.
Collecting his courage, Diesel followed the guys into the house, wondering what new horror awaited them inside.
Inside, the conditions weren’t quite so bad. Yes, the floors still creaked to kingdom come, and the drapes looked like they were from a 1940s home-styling catalog, but at least the walls had been covered with a fresh coat of paint sometime over the past few years.
Diesel walked into the living room and admired the large old-fashioned fireplace set into the wall. It might be kind of cool to have a few drinks while roasting his balls by the fire.
The thought made him smile.
Next to the living room was a tiny kitchen. The appliances weren’t new, but at least they weren’t bought at the same time the home was constructed. The open concept of the kitchen made the place look bigger than it really was. Less claustrophobic and more… cozy? As cozy as cozy could be when the structure around you was a mixture of 40s, 70s, 80s… and, well, let’s not push past the 80s. Still, the walls seemed sturdy, and Diesel didn’t think the roof was ready to cave in just yet.
“Jared, you and I will take the beds in the basement. Diesel, you’ll get the room at the top of the stairs,” Chase explained before turning to the driver and instructing him to place the equipment they had brought into the living room.
Tired of listening to Chase bark orders, Diesel picked up his bag and made his way up the questionable stairs.
Once he reached the top, there were two bedrooms across from each other and a small bathroom set in the middle.
So much for living in luxury. He was starting to wonder if coming to London was a mistake. Matteo’s watchful eye wasn’t so bad after all. At least there, he didn’t have to worry about what surfaces he touched or where he stepped. First thing tomorrow, they were ordering a cleaning person… or four.
Now, which room was his? Well, one door was open, looking empty and bare. The other door was closed. He decided to check out the closed door just to see if the room was a better fit.
Locked.
Chase did mention that they were sharing the place with the current team in place, so the bedroom must belong to one of them.
Fine. Bedroom number one it is!