Chapter Ryan #3
That explained her strange behavior. Rebel almost felt guilty for thinking so harshly of her. Almost. If she hadn’t checked out of the family, she’d know better than to trust Uncle Johnnie.
“I’m scared, CJ,” Rebel said before she caught herself, the ramifications of Uncle Johnnie’s latest fuckery dawning on her. If Aunt Kendall found out…if Uncle Mort found out… But how could they not? “I want Momma.”
“Me, too,” Aunt Bailey said miserably. “I want my mama. Mama would know what to do for me and for you, Harley.”
Rebel and Harley looked at each, ran to Aunt Bailey, and twined their arms in a group hug. The three of them burst into tears and then looked at CJ for help.
By the time Diesel stopped at their final destination, Ryan wished Cleaner, Pops, Uncle Christopher, or someone had killed him. He’d known Diesel would be furious if he ever found out about the cameras in Rebel’s room.
He just hadn’t known to what level, but Diesel’s jealousy had him psychotic.
They visited two places before they reached their last. Ryan didn’t see an opportunity to escape at their first stop to buy alcohol.
And the second location?
Diesel hid in the shadows of a bar, a biker hangout judging by the motorcycles surrounding the place. Dudes in cuts walked in and out. Ryan couldn’t imagine why Diesel would leave them open to retaliation for invading enemy turf. After almost an hour, a lone biker left the bar.
Diesel struck like lightning, swooping from the shadows and snatching the short biker much like he’d grabbed Ryan.
Hand over the little guy’s mouth, Diesel lifted him and carried him to where he’d angled the Mercedes between a tree and a dumpster.
The efficiency in which Diesel got the small man into the trunk without help told Ryan he’d done this shit before.
When he slammed the door and jumped into the driver’s seat, Ryan risked a glance at Diesel, expecting the man in the trunk to make noise. He glanced behind him at the black leather seats and scratched his temple.
“Motherfucker’s out cold, Ryan.”
Diesel sped away.
By the time they returned to Hortensia, forty-five minutes later, Ryan was exhausted. Fearing for your life weighed on a motherfucker. It wasn’t only worry that Diesel might decide to kill him. It was also knowing that everyone hated him now. Pops. CJ. The girls. And, by now, Mom.
He was glad he hadn’t been there to witness her love dying and real, true hatred forming. Not just the mistaken kind when Ryan saw what wasn’t there.
After Pops beat his ass and kicked him out, Ryan came to and crawled to his feet.
He considered going back into the club and apologizing. He just didn’t know what to say to make anyone care about him or forgive him.
As he’d stood outside thinking about the situation, he’d also realized his father probably saved his life. Pops beating his ass served as another distraction. If Uncle Christopher got his hands on him, he would’ve been dead.
“Take this.” Diesel handed Ryan a gun. “If that motherfucker makes a wrong move, shoot him.”
Ryan swallowed. Nodded.
Banging on the trunk and muffled screams rocked the car.
“Right on time,” Diesel said with a grin. “Time to rock and roll.”
Fear percolated in Ryan at Diesel’s chilling smile. As they exited the car and slammed the doors closed, a side door on the funeral home opened.
“Diesel, you sick fuckhead—”
“Shut it, Lewis,” Diesel said politely. “This is the last one. I promise.” He popped the trunk.
The biker raised his gun. Instead of pulling the trigger, Ryan froze. Diesel, however, didn’t hesitate to shoot the man’s hand.
At the little man’s scream, Ryan’s entire body shook.
“You’ve made a fucking mess in my Mercedes,” Diesel complained, ignoring the man’s sobs and mangled fingers.
Nausea twisted in Ryan and his head felt light and foggy.
“If you faint, I’ll beat your fucking ass again, Ryan,” Diesel warned.
Swallowing, Ryan gripped the side of the car, willing himself to remain conscious. But he hated the sight of blood.
Diesel yanked the biker out of the trunk. “Close the trunk, Ryan. Walk, little man,” he ordered the unknown biker. “This won’t take long. You’ll be out of here in no time.”
Glaring at Diesel, Lewis leaned against the door and allowed Diesel to march the biker past him. Once inside, Ryan noted three things—the biker wore rockers that indicated he was a Gnome; Lewis was a Dweller; and they stood in the back of the building where the crematorium was located.
The fucking lit crematorium.
After laying his gun on a chair and directing Ryan to do the same, Diesel circled the sobbing, bleeding man, studying every angle before stopping in front of him. He waited until Lewis wrapped the man’s hand up.
“I have three questions, Bernie.”
He must’ve had a patch on his cut that indicated his name.
“Where’s Tom Harris?”
“I don’t know a motherfucker by that name—”
Diesel wagged a finger. “Uh uh uh. He’s the father of my cousin’s girlfriend.
” He waved Ryan over. “This is Bernie, Ryan,” he introduced as if Ryan hadn’t been standing a few feet away.
“Bernie, this is my young cousin Ryan. My young cousin is very distraught. So distraught in fact that he committed an almost unforgivable crime against a girl I know.” He shoved Ryan away.
“He watched her without any clothes on. He spied on her private conversations.”
Goddamn, Ryan prayed Diesel wasn’t intending to throw him into the crematorium.
Jesus H. Christ.
Fuck.
Why else was it lit?
Ryan gasped and staggered back.
“I’m running out of time and patience,” Diesel said. “I’ll be fair and allow you to ponder your answer. Next question. Can you withstand high temperatures?”
Bernie was starting to tremble, probably getting a fucking clue that Diesel was a fucking psycho.
“Earl and Shine couldn’t handle them,” Diesel revealed.
What was that again? Ryan thought for a moment and remembered Diesel asking about high temperatures.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Diesel smiled. “Never found out Earl’s real name. He passed himself off as Earl Grey. I thought about making teabags from his ashes and sending them as a gift to Mickey.”
Bernie sobbed. Ryan managed to hold himself together and dismissed the idea that Diesel had overpowered Bernie because he was a little guy. The two motherfuckers posing as school resource officers were as tall as Diesel.
A ringing phone distracted Lewis and he walked away to answer it.
“Next question. Mickey is the president of the Gnomes. When did you all patch over and become Scorpions?”
“We haven’t!” Bernie wept. “I swear!”
“Teabag said the same thing. He claimed the Gnomes are a support club, not a fucking ghost club.”
“We’re neither!”
“Liar!” Diesel screamed and shoved Bernie again. “You’re a fucking liar. You’re a stinking Scorpion. Motherfucking Grits terrorized the same girl I mentioned earlier.”
“I don’t know no Grits!”
He bent to look Bernie in the eyes. “Officer Hominy. He was the first one Outlaw told me to go after once we figured out your fucking games. Where’s Willard and Wally?”
“I don’t know. God, I don’t. I’d tell you if I did.”
“Bonus question. Why was a small club like the Gnomes after the Dwellers a couple of years ago if they aren’t affiliated with the Scorpions, doing Bash’s dirty work?”
“I’m just a low-ranking member. I don’t know—”
Diesel slammed his fist into Bernie’s jaw. “You’re stuck on fucking repeat, motherfucker. Come up with a new line before I lose my fucking patience.”
Lewis walked back in. “Outlaw says to wrap this shit up, Diesel.”
“I’m disappointed you called him, Lewis.”
“He fucking pays me. I piss him off, I die.”
“Understood.”
“I told him you left Ryan in the car. The kid’s about to lose his shit.”
Turning, Diesel leveled a cold gaze on Ryan. “He’ll fucking survive.”
No, he wouldn’t if he had to endure this psychological torture much longer. And he wasn’t even the one getting the brunt. Watching it and realizing what was coming was brutal.
“What did you tell him?”
“Not a fucking thing, Diesel. I don’t know why the fuck you brought another live body to the fucking crematorium. Just that you did.”
Bernie’s eyes widened and he screamed, then dropped to his knees and doubled over. Ryan could only make out, “please.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Diesel roared. “I have another question. I’m just full of them.” Crouching down, he grabbed a fistful of Bernie’s hair and yanked his head up. “Did you watch any videos provided by the Barts?”
“Three,” he admitted, gasping for breath and weeping.
“Annnndddd I have yet another question,” Diesel said. “So sorry. You can forgive me, can’t you, Bernie?”
“Yeah, brother. Yeah. Of course. Ask away.”
“If you aren’t connected to the Scorpions, how the fuck did you have access to videos sent to one of their sons?”
“I-I d-didn’t s-say I-I wasn’t a-a-a-acquainted with th-them.”
“Well enough to be sent explicit videos of underaged girls.”
“Th-they d-d-d-didn’t s-s-s-s-s-send th-th-them t-t-t-to m-m-m-m-me.”
“Are you a singer?” Diesel asked with a wide grin. “If you are, I’m sorry to say your me me me is quite fucking offkey.”
Bernie laughed nervously. “I-I-I’ll d-d-do b-b-better.”
“Excellent.” Diesel patted his head like he would a fucking dog. “If they didn’t send you the videos, how’d you see them?”
“He probably forgot how,” Ryan blurted, about to shit himself, fearing Bernie would reveal they’d been shown at the clubhouse.
“Did I fucking ask you, Ryan?” Diesel snarled, his eyes intensely evil. “Shut the fuck up unless you’re fucking spoken to.”
He looked at Bernie again. “Did Ryan send you the videos?”
“H-h-him?” Bernie asked, pointing to Ryan.
“Yes,” Diesel barked.
“N-n-no one…” His face crumpled and he sniffled.
Diesel glanced from Bernie to Ryan and back again. “If no one sent them to you, yet you saw them, the Barts must’ve made copies and showed them at the clubhouse. Which one? Gnomes or Scorpions?”
“The Scorpions’ mother chapter,” Bernie whispered.
Bile rose in Ryan’s throat. He thought about turning and running, but Diesel might shoot him in the back.
“B-b-but Bash shot the monitors off the wall o-o-one e-e-evening when I was there. H-he s-s-said they c-c-c-couldn’t be shown again. I-I-I don’t think he knew Mickey showed them, too.”
“Interesting,” Diesel said. “Very interesting. So these three videos that you watched. Who was on them?
If Bernie mentioned the videos Dementor took of Aunt Meggie…Ryan cringed, an expression Diesel noticed, so he held up a hand before Bernie spoke.
“You have something to add, Ryan? You know which videos Bernie watched?”
“No, I don’t,” Ryan said. “I swear.”
Bernie narrowed his eyes and studied Ryan intently. “You were in one of them, with that Black bitch fucking her in a bedroom.”
Diesel bared his teeth at Ryan. “Who else or were the videos of that young lady the only ones you saw?”
“If I give you more information, you’re letting me live?” Bernie asked.
“We’ll see, brother,” Diesel replied in amiable tones. “We are brothers, aren’t we? The Gnomes and the Dwellers brokered a peace agreement a couple of years ago.”
“Yeah, yeah, brother. We are.”
“Excellent. So, in the spirit of brotherhood, tell me about the other videos.”
“Wasn’t that Black…”
Diesel cleared his throat.
“Er, that y-young l-lady. It was a little redheaded prissy slut, and another of a blonde cunt playing with her pussy. She was gorgeous. Just the way I like them. Young and tender. Willy said she wasn’t innocent, but I didn’t care.
I just wanted a piece of her. There was supposed to be more of those three coming today, but they got wiped from the servers. ”
Mattie’s work.
Ryan doubted Diesel heard beyond what Bernie said about Rebel. He was staring at Ryan, his gray eyes so furious they were black before shoving Bernie away and kicking him in the face. The sound of bone cracking horrified Ryan.
“Diesel,” Lewis gritted, breaking through Diesel’s contemplations of what must’ve been Ryan’s gruesome murder. “You got to get Val’s kid back to the fucking club.”
“Val’s kid…” Diesel gritted his teeth, glared at Ryan again and then looked at Bernie and wiggled his fingers. “I need your cut.”
Listening to Bernie’s sobs, hearing his pleas, while Diesel taunted him as the Gnome removed his cut and boots, made Ryan long for his bed, behind closed doors in the safety of his bedroom.
When Diesel ordered Ryan to hold Bernie in place while he tied his hands and feet, then stuffed a handkerchief in his mouth, Ryan didn’t know if he’d ever recover.
Diesel grabbed a handful of Bernie’s shirt and heaved him to his feet, then dragged him toward the crematorium.
Lewis opened the door, but Bernie was wiggling so fiercely Diesel lost his hold.
“Motherfucker,” he growled. “Come help us, Ryan.”
It was the last thing Ryan wanted to do, but he didn’t want to face Diesel’s wrath, even if death would’ve been easier then this.
Together, Ryan, Lewis, and Diesel hefted Bernie up and into the furnace. Lewis slammed the door shut, ignoring the momentary inhumane sounds and the scent of burning flesh.
Diesel gazed at Ryan. “If you ever fuck with Rebel again, I’ll throw you into a fucking burning pit.”
“Okay.”
“How are you feeling?” Diesel asked like the psycho he was.
“Okay.”
“Tabitha needs to be thrown into that fucking pit if you ask me,” Diesel added.
“Okay.”
That was the only word Ryan could think of whenever Diesel spoke to him during their ride back to the club.