Chapter 17
Diablo
Having Elizabeth at the clubhouse is great, but I miss the little bubble we had in her apartment, a place where we could be together without worrying about anyone else.
We eat our meals with the guys and hang out with them around her classes and work shifts, and that’s fun, I did miss seeing the guys so often, but I hate pretending to just be friends with Elizabeth.
Sitting near her and not being able to touch her, saying goodbye and not being able to kiss her, it’s torture.
We’ve been taking the car or my bike up to the mountains whenever we can, but it’s not the same.
I’d gotten used to being with her in a bed, able to take my time with her, giving her the attention she deserves, being as loud as we like.
A quickie up against a tree is fun, but I can’t wait until my birthday when I can take her to the hotel I’ve booked.
I sneak into her room at the clubhouse, but the walls are so thin, we either have to be incredibly quiet, or we go straight to sleep. But at least I get to sleep with her in my arms, that’s something I definitely can’t do without.
“You ready?” she asks from my door .
I glance up and let the smile form on my face, I can’t not smile when I see her. She’s wearing old jeans which are torn on the knees and thighs, and a t-shirt that’s already covered in paint stains.
“Not as ready as you apparently,” I chuckle, “are we really gonna get that messy helping Slim decorate?”
“No idea, but if we do, I’ll be okay with it. I can’t imagine you being so happy getting paint on your jeans.”
“I’ll just have to be careful or take on more of a supervisory role.”
“Excuse me?” she says, “If anyone is the supervisor of this project, it’s me. Slim gave me free rein to decorate his place; I have big plans.”
“Okay,” I say, walking to the door and pulling her into my room, before pressing her against the wall. “You’re the boss.”
I lean in and kiss her, a kiss full of promises of all the things I want to do but can’t.
“Mmm… I just hope you’re this agreeable when it comes to any of our own future decorating projects,” she says, looking up at me nervously.
My heart skips at the thought of us having a place of our own someday.
“I promise you, princess, when you agree to live with me in our own place, you can one hundred percent be the boss and have free rein. I’ll let you do anything you want.”
She grins and pulls me into another kiss, full of promises of her own.
Slim’s new place isn’t too far from the club; several blocks of duplex houses were built around the same time as the industrial estate, and he managed to get one when it came on the market.
Knowing how much he values his own space, I’m happy for him, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried too.
I don’t want him to isolate himself too much from people, and he’s not the type to make friends with his neighbors.
I pull up and we all get out of the car, Tank and Pretty Boy came with us instead of having our bikes parked out front, we don’t want to scare the neighborhood too early. Slim’s already sitting on the front steps, cigarette in hand, and I know it’s not his first of the day.
“Hey,” Elizabeth says, “did all the stuff that I ordered arrive?”
“Yeah,” Slim says.
“And? What did you think of it?”
“I haven’t looked.”
“Slim, I know you’re letting me decorate, but I want you to like it. Come on,” she says, playfully pulling on his shirt, “I’ll talk you through it all.”
He looks at me, his expression and posture both asking for help.
“Don’t look at me,” I say, “you’re the one who told the princess she could decorate, who knows what you’re gonna end up with.”
Elizabeth sticks her middle finger up at me before pulling on Slim’s shirt again, reluctantly he follows.
As expected, she quickly takes on the supervisory role and we all have our jobs to do.
The walls and floors are decent, so it’s just cosmetic stuff we’re doing.
Tank and I are painting the front room a deep navy color; I have to admit, she has good taste, it’s dark and moody which suits Slim, he hates bright spaces.
They’re both in the kitchen, painting over tiles and cabinets, while Pretty Boy is in the dining room between the two, painting a dark green instead of navy.
The L-shape ground floor isn’t completely open plan, but the large square arches between the rooms mean we can all see each other and talk, so the morning passes quickly.
Elizabeth’s trying to convince Slim to go furniture shopping with her, arguing that a bed roll is not a suitable bed, and garden furniture isn’t enough to make a comfortable living room. He soon agrees—whether he actually wants to, or whether she just wore him down, I have no idea.
“Diablo!” he yells.
“What?” I laugh, knowing I’m about to get dragged into something.
“Furniture shopping, you’re driving.”
I would argue, but it means I get to spend time with Elizabeth, so I’m not upset about it.
Leaving Tank and Pretty Boy to carry on with the painting, we head off.
I love how gentle Elizabeth is with Slim, and it makes me smile.
Knowing he doesn’t like to talk much, she’s giving him easy questions, asking about his budget and what type of mattress he likes.
Soon she’s giving me directions to a store where she thinks we’ll be able to get everything, again, knowing Slim won’t want to traipse around a million places.
“Okay,” she says to Slim, “I know this place is big, and there’s a lot of choice, so we can do this a couple of ways. Option one, you look around the store and pick out stuff you like.”
At the expression on his face, she quickly shakes her head.
“Okay, option one is a no. Option two, I walk around the store and pick out things I think you’ll like, and then give you a choice of two items?”
He nods.
“Great,” she says, grinning at me, I love seeing her this excited. “Let’s start with your sofa. ”
Elizabeth
One good thing about shopping with Slim, he makes quick decisions.
There’s no deliberation, no uncertainty; he’d sit on the two sofas, or beds, or dining chairs, whatever I’d picked out, and within moments point to the one he wanted.
It doesn’t take us long to buy all the necessities, and I even managed to add in a few ‘nice to have’ items too; a new dining set with cutlery—instead of the metal plate, bowl, and fork he currently uses, a couple of cushions for the sofa, and some art for the walls.
We arrive back at his place to find Tank and Pretty Boy sitting out the front with a beer.
“Please tell me you haven’t been slacking off since we left,” I say.
“Painting’s all done, darlin’,” Pretty Boy says, raising his beer.
“Yeah,” Tank says, “besides, we’ve gotta get back to the club, El Jefe wants us at the table.”
“He say why?” Angel asks.
“Nope,” Tank says, “just that we gotta get back there.”
I’m gutted that I’m not going to have a chance to finish the decorating and get ready for the furniture; but I know that when El Jefe calls a meeting, it doesn’t mean later, it means now.
There are more bikes than usual at the clubhouse, it must be a whole other club that’s visiting .
“Diablos Rojos,” Pretty Boy says, checking out the bikes, “and a lot of them.”
“Yeah,” Tank says, “what the fuck are they doing back here?”
Angel walks over to the bikes; I’m guessing taking a quick headcount of who’s here.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” he says, “you guys go on in, I just need to chat to Elizabeth.”
They head inside, while Angel leads me to a corner near the office.
“Don’t worry,” I say, “I’m going to steer clear of Alejandro.”
“I know, it’s not about that. I need you to go straight up to your room when we get in there.”
“Okay, why? Do I need to be worried.”
He sighs and runs his hand down his face.
“I’m gonna tell you something, it’s not really my story to tell, but I need you to be safe.”
I nod, letting him know I’m listening.
“Diablos Rojos killed El Jefe’s brother.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it was about four years ago, there was a fight between the clubs; we never found out who fired the gun, but it was definitely them.”
“I guessed there was history from the last time they were here… but that’s… they killed him?”
He nods. “It was a turning point for El Jefe, it’s one of the reasons he made the call to go legit, losing his brother… it nearly broke him, he didn’t want it to happen to anyone else.”
“I can’t even imagine… but… why were they here? Why are they here now?”
Panic rises in my chest, the club seemed so far removed from all this. I know they used to do illegal shit, but now they’re getting involved with killers…
“I don’t know.” He holds my chin and tilts my face up to his. “I’m going to keep you safe, Elizabeth. That’s why I need you to go up to your room—”
“I’m not worried about me!” I grip his shirt, tears form in my eyes, the thought of something happening to him terrifies me. “They don’t even know I exist; I’m worried about you.”
He presses me against the wall and leans into me, the weight of him comforting, grounding me.
“Hey, hey,” he soothes, resting his forehead against mine and cupping my face in his hands. “We can look after ourselves, besides this is probably a friendly visit, trying to move past old shit. I’m not even worried about me, or the club. I’m just worried about you.”
“Jesus, Angel. I get that you’re protective, but you need to start worrying about yourself. Could the killer be in there right now?”
He doesn’t need to answer, his eyes tell me everything I need to know. There’s a good chance the killer is in the clubhouse, and Diablos Rojos are still very much into illegal shit, this could be dangerous.
“Fuck, you’re a legal club, I never even thought I’d have to worry about this kind of stuff—you’re mechanics for fuck’s sake.”
He chuckles. “We may be mechanics now, but you know we haven’t always been. You need to trust that I can take care of myself, and that will be easier for me, if I know you’re safe.”