Chapter Forty-Two – Diesel
Receiving word that only one Donovan—Rory—planned to attend his birthday barbeque allowed Diesel to invite Jana.
He didn’t know if he made the right decision.
He only knew if he didn’t invite her, it would hurt her a little more than his abrupt departure last night after he’d gotten so upset with her over Roy.
As far as Diesel knew, Jana hadn’t given Roy her telephone number, but fuck, it shocked him how much he cared whether she had.
A late night hadn’t negated his early morning obligations to Uncle Christopher.
After they left Easton, Uncle Christopher checked on Molly, then they returned to the club.
Diesel only had time to text Jana the time she should arrive and instructed her to borrow clothes from Rebel.
Jana sent a thumb’s up emoji and left it at that.
He hoped she came. Aunt Meggie, Roxanne, and all the aunts—except Kendall—arrived at two and began cooking.
Seeing Fia, Tauriel, Tennysee, and several other club girls surprised him, but Uncle Christopher didn’t seem concerned so Diesel remained silent.
His birthday parties always began between five and seven, early enough for the kids and the wives to celebrate his big day and late enough for the brothers and club girls who had jobs to arrive.
Most years, they partied well into the next day because no matter what day his birthday fell on, his party always took place on a Friday or Saturday.
It just so happened his actual birthday fell on a Saturday this year.
With Jana there, Diesel wasn’t sure what his birthday would look like.
Most of the club girls jockeyed to party with him, although he’d only choose three or four to be at his side during the celebrations and, after, in bed.
That couldn’t happen this year. If he wanted Jana to fuck one of the girls, she would, but he didn’t.
That was a can of worms he fucking refused to open.
Fia and company would seize on her weaknesses and insecurities and torment the fuck out of her.
While the women cooked and decorated, Diesel, Uncle Christopher, and the brothers set up tables out back, fired up the grills, filled chests with ice and alcohol, and did whatever heavy lifting required.
He hadn’t intended to return to the house for anything, even Jana.
She could walk to the club with Rebel. With that in mind, he showered, shaved, and changed out of his smoky, sweaty clothes, in the Dirty Dozen, the communal bathroom on the second hallway that had three of each: urinals, showers, wash basins, and toilets.
It was for the brothers without ensuites.
He found an unoccupied room to dress in.
If it wasn’t already after six, he would’ve taken a nap.
Coke would do wonders for him right now and energize him for however long the party lasted. The idea taunted him and he rested his elbows on his knees, considering his options.
“Knock, knock,” Torrin said, opening the door and walking in.
Smiling, Diesel straightened. “Do you have a fucking tracker on me, asshole? How the fuck did you know I was in this room?”
Torrin shrugged. “I don’t give up my fucking secrets.”
Flipping him off, Diesel snickered and got to his feet. “Let’s get the fuck so I can greet all my guests.”
“I have a little game for us to make the evening livelier. You already told me you won’t fuck none of the girls and you don’t want coke. This might keep things interesting, D.”
“I don’t want Jana upset,” Diesel replied. “As for the coke, I’d love some.”
“Just say the word. Narci still laments losing you as his customer.”
“It’s my birthday,” Diesel decided. “One hit won’t hurt me.”
“I agree. It’ll be my birthday gift to you.”
The prospect of a line invigorated Diesel more than anything had in days.
He’d made it to thirty, a milestone, when he probably shouldn’t have seen his sixteenth birthday.
The way he’d hurt Rebel plagued him. High, he wouldn’t care.
Dead, he wouldn’t know. Then, Axel’s face rose in his head.
Aunt Meggie and Uncle Christopher’s. They expected more of him.
Even if Rebel and CJ hated him, Axel, Aunt Meggie, and Uncle Christopher didn’t. They loved him.
Jana needed him.
“Fuck, I want to, bro,” Diesel admitted, his change of heart a little disconcerting especially because of the reasons. Not Uncle Christopher’s threats, but because he felt as if he mattered to them. “Run a line for me.”
Torrin considered him intently. As much as Diesel liked the motherfucker, he didn’t give a fuck if he approved of his decision or not.
“How’s Rebel and Jana getting along?”
“Famously,” Diesel drawled.
“In your fucking dreams. Rebel probably wants your fucking blood.”
“I wasn’t put on this earth to please that brat,” Diesel growled. “She has to abide by my choices and the woman in my life.”
“Yeah, like she had to abide by us talking to her after CJ overdosed? Remember how that fucking worked out? She looked right through us and pretended she was fucking hard of hearing. She still barely talks to us.”
“She’ll come around,” Diesel said with a shrug.
“So have you decided against playing with your nose because of Reb?”
“Of course not, asshole. As if I give a fuck how she feels about me.”
“Okay, fuckhead.”
“Was that a fucking attempt to change my mind again?”
“Perhaps.”
Diesel glared at him.
Torrin raised his hands in supplication and heaved in a breath. “Real talk, D. As much as I miss partying with you and the club bitches, I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t point out how fucking good you’ve been doing off the drugs.”
Diesel shoved his hands in his pockets. Uncle Christopher offered Diesel a chance at a future with Rebel.
All he needed to do was prove he was worthy of her.
It was one thing for CJ to have said the same thing.
But Uncle Christopher? It scared the shit out of Diesel.
If he didn’t straighten the fuck out and, somehow, Rebel and him got together when she turned eighteen, Diesel was still dead.
Uncle Christopher would kill him rather than allow him to repeatedly hurt his daughter.
His actions toward her would be a complete strikeout. Remembering Rebel’s hurt and disillusionment as she realized what he’d done to her only increased Diesel’s need for a hit.
“Outlaw won’t only pinion your hand, bro,” Torrin continued. “I still got mad respect for you over that situation. I would’ve been sobbing like a bitch.”
“I know, fuckhead.” Torrin’s pain tolerance was zero. “What’s your point?”
“If I was Outlaw’s son, I wouldn’t want to disappoint him any further.”
“I don’t want to disappoint him or Aunt Meggie at all,” Diesel acknowledged, although he knew he had. “I never meant to.”
“Then ignore your fucking urge. It isn’t worth it.
You took a lot of shit for your relationship with Outlaw.
Motherfuckers, me included, were jealous.
But you showed you were one of us and didn’t hide behind the Caldwell name.
Fuck, you became more brutal than Johnnie, Outlaw, and Mortician combined. ”
“I didn’t have a fucking choice, did I, asshole?”
Torrin flushed, unable to meet Diesel’s gaze just as always whenever this subject came up.
“It’s done. We can’t change it,” Diesel said.
“But you can change.”
“If I trusted you motherfuckers, maybe I’d dial myself back. I trust you, Narci, Potter, Huck, and Bishop. Sometimes Pike and Zephyr. The rest of them? Not a fucking chance. Never.”
Uncle Christopher often shared with Diesel what he’d gone through at the club, long before he opened up to CJ.
When the younger members targeted Diesel and encouraged the prospects to torment him, he kept it to himself.
He’d lived on the streets and hadn’t known privilege and protection until Uncle Christopher took him in. He knew how to fight.
But calling Uncle Christopher ‘sir’ in front of fuckheads who didn’t know the meaning of the word only made it worse.
Theresa had drilled it into Diesel to respect adults and Aunt Meggie fostered that idea.
Besides, Uncle Christopher never told Diesel not to do it, even though his biological children rarely said it.
Eventually, one of the brothers ordered the prospects to snatch Diesel and waterboard him.
Torrin and Narci snuck away and got Potter and Huck, who saved Diesel’s life.
Two years later, he’d graduated from college, got accepted into law school, and began prospecting.
Every workout, every practice with knife throwing and target practice, every breath deprivation while he stood under the shower or dove in a pool, was designed as part of his plan for revenge.
He didn’t fucking care who knew what drove him.
Something inside him was already broken, but what no motherfucker would do was make him suffer for respecting a man who’d taken him in.
He couldn’t just kill those fuckheads. Even as a club member.
One by one, he’d provoked all five of the ones who’d fucking tortured him—and then he made a fucking statement with the gruesomeness of their deaths.
Torrin clasped his shoulder and brought Diesel back to the present. “It’s over, D. You took them out.”
Diesel nodded.
“You want the blow or not?”
“No.”
Smiling, Torrin thumped Diesel’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, motherfucker. I’ll follow your wishes and snort a line for you.”
Rolling his eyes, Diesel shook his head and headed out of the room, expecting to find Jana at one of the tables.
When he didn’t, Rebel’s face rose in his head. She must’ve turned Jana away. Anger roared through him and Diesel stormed out of the club, heading home to chew Rebel out.