Chapter 23
MARISOL
Two days later, I’m waiting impatiently in Diesel’s apartment for his arrival from the hospital.
“Thanks for waiting with me,” I say to both Maxie and Marisol.
“It’s been a crazy few days.” Marisol shakes her head. “Benito holding you at gunpoint.”
“Then falling to his death.” I shiver. “I still can’t process it all.”
“I nearly shit when Benito aimed that gun at your head,” Maxie adds.
My heart jacks up at the thought, then I lower my eyes. “Still can’t believe Eduardo stepped up. Literally put himself in the line of fire.”
Marisol reaches over and squeezes my hand. “How’s he doing?”
“Thankfully, the bullet didn’t hit any organs, but he did lose a fair amount of blood. My mother has been in touch with the hospital here, and she’s having him transported to the medical center in San Diego at the end of the week.
“I still can’t believe Benito’s dead.” I rub my palms over my denim shorts. “I catch myself looking over my shoulder, expecting him to pop up.”
“He’s gone now, hon,” Marisol says. “He can’t hurt you or anyone else anymore.”
“And you don’t have to worry about fighting Saturday night. With all you’ve been through, and with Diesel . . .”
Her voice fades, and I finish her sentence, “I don’t know what I have with Diesel, but hopefully, whatever it is, we can remain friends.”
“Friends?” both women say in unison.
“Do you realize how many times you two do that?” I joke.
They look at each other and laugh as the sound of heavy footsteps and loud male voices fills the hallway. A few seconds later, the door swings open, and Blood enters the apartment, followed by Smoke and a very slow-moving Diesel.
“This fuckin’ guy is a pain in the ass.” Blood points to Diesel. “He was supposed to stay in the hospital another day, but no, he drives us all crazy till we go and break him out.”
“Yeah, then he’s moaning and groaning the whole ride here ‘cause I hit a few potholes with the Escalade,” Smoke adds. “Like a fuckin’ baby. Shit, you’d think he got his side slashed open or something.”
I get up, take Diesel’s arm, and lead him over to the couch. “You look very pale. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“We’re the ones who aren’t all right, after taking care of him.” Blood makes a beeline for the bar in the corner of the room and returns with shots of Jack Daniels and bottles of beer.
Diesel twists the cap off the beer and takes a healthy swig.
“Should you be drinking?” I ask.
“I’m thinking the beer should mix very nicely with the pain meds.”
I roll my eyes, and Blood laughs. “Believe me, after taking care of him for a few days, you’re the one who’s gonna need the pain meds.”
“Bite me.” Diesel throws him the middle finger. “I’ll be back in the gym whipping your ass before you know it.”
Smoke raises his shot glass. “Here’s to all of us coming out of that shit-show alive.”
We raise our drinks and toast.
Then Marisol adds, “Here’s to the Harlots, who came up with an ingenious plan, took care of business our own way, and to our newest sister, Martina, who charged in to help us.”
We lift our glasses and toast again.
Smoke and Blood finish off their whiskey, then Smoke nods to the others. “Let’s head out so our Enforcer can get some rest.”
I hug the women, but in truth I’m nervous about being alone with Diesel. After sneaking off three days ago and getting caught in a gunfight, we never had a chance to talk things out. I have no idea where I stand, or even where I want to stand when it comes to us. If there even is an us.
They all troop out, and Diesel and I awkwardly sit on the couch.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask. “Do you want something to eat or maybe—”
“I’m fine.” He shifts on the couch, squeezes his eyes shut and winces.
“You look like you’re in pain to me. Is it time for another pain pill?”
“I said I’m fine.” He reaches for my hand. “Relax.”
Yeah, right, how could I relax when it was my brother who set him up, then stabbed him and could’ve killed him? Were we going to address that huge gray elephant in the room, or just pretend it didn’t happen?
“How’s your brother?”
“He’s doing better. My mother is going to have him moved to a hospital in the States at the end of the week.”
“Have you seen him?” Diesel asks.
“I went to visit him. Of course, he was all repentant and saying he was going to change, but I’ve heard all that before.” I peel the label on the beer bottle. “It makes it hard to believe him after all the other times.”
“You and him have a lot to work through.”
“For what it’s worth, he said he regrets what he did to you.” My gaze flicks to Diesel’s side. “He panicked, and . . .”
“Whatever. The one he should be apologizing to is you.”
I suck in my lower lip and nod.
My brother and I aren’t the only ones who have issues, but I wasn’t going to say anything since Diesel just got home from the hospital. I purposely didn’t visit him to give us both a chance to think it all out.
“I had a lot of time to think when I was in the hospital.”
I clear my throat, not quite sure I want to hear his thoughts.
“What happened at your brother’s apartment could’ve gone worse than it did.”
“I wouldn’t blame you for never forgiving Eduardo but—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. What happened with Eduardo was business, and him being your brother doesn’t play into it for me.”
“Then what?”
“You had a fuckin’ gun pointed at your head,” Diesel yells.
“I know, and we were all lucky no one was seriously hurt.” My chest contracts, then tightens more. I don’t need to be reminded of the scene that’s been the main feature of my nightmares for the last three nights.
“And that’s the thing. You being with me is dangerous.”
Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t it.
“Technically, it was my brother who brought this shit show to town.”
“Yeah, but Benito grabbed me ‘cause I’m an outlaw, and we were doin’ business with him.”
“What are you trying to say?”
DIESEL
Shit, did she have to have that little quiver in her voice? Did her eyes have to be so wide and trusting?
“Look, I got a lousy track record with women. I mean, I told you I’m a two-time loser in the marriage department. You’re so young, and I’m much older than you.”
How the fuck do I tell the only woman I’ve ever really cared about that me dropping her is a good thing? Not for me, for her.
“Yeah, I get it.”
“You do?” Shit, I was kinda hoping she was gonna fight me on this, but Martina isn’t that girl. She’d take what I gave her, which makes what I have to do even harder.
“Plus, my life is way too dangerous.” I cock my head. “And I think you’ve had your fill of dangerous for a while, right?”
“Right.”
“You’ll see, it’s better this way. You don’t wanna be tied down to a busted-up outlaw biker.” I try to sell it with a laugh, but she doesn’t buy it.
“Sure.” Her eyes are zeroed in on the beer bottle in her hands.
“You can do so much better than a guy like me. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Now that you got your passport, you should go back to California, see your Mom, meet a nice guy. Someone more your age. Someone with something to offer.”
“Okay then, if you don’t need anything else, I should be going.” She pushes off the couch.
“Are you still gonna fight on Saturday?” I honestly didn’t know how I wanted her to answer.
She heads for the door. “I don’t know.” She pulls it open and leaves without a second look.
I lay my head against the couch cushion, and an overwhelming exhaustion washes over me.
I sent her away. I gave her all the reasons why we can’t work, won’t work, and she didn’t fight me, she didn’t cry or plead with me, or even look sad.
She just took my words in like I was reciting the parts on my Harley.
Damn it, I did the right thing, and she took it in stride—so why do I feel so fuckin’ bad?
MARTINA
I leave The Tropics in a haze, replaying Diesel’s words.
Knowing he’s right. We didn’t have a chance in hell of working out.
My own brother stabbed him in a cartel power struggle.
He is older than me, much more experienced in life and in sex.
He made it all sound so logical and clear, yet the ache in my chest radiates throughout my entire body.
Silent tears wet my cheeks as I walk the twenty-five minutes back to the fight club, but the pain in my chest grows. Maybe hearts truly can break.
I enter the gym, looking for Maxie, and see her through the glass partition surrounding Blood’s office. I knock, enter, and they stare at me as if waiting for some huge revelation.
I focus on Maxie. “If you can get me ready, I want to fight Saturday night.”
“Sure, hon.” She exchanges a quick look with Blood. “Go get changed, and I’ll be out in ten.”
I exit the office and head for the locker rooms. I have no idea what my future holds, or where I’ll be living next week, but for once I’m doing something for myself. Not worrying about letting my mother down, or fixing Eduardo’s problems, just me doing something for me. And it feels damn good.