Chapter 9 – Diesel
Instead of slipping away to kill Tabitha, Diesel should’ve waited for Uncle Christopher and Aunt Meggie to arrive.
Now that Tabitha was dead and some of Diesel’s fury had abated, he thought about the peace agreement so contingent on whether he cooperated with her demands.
If Bash ever found out Diesel killed that cunt, he’d be in deep shit.
Hopefully, when they discovered Tabitha’s body, her death would be chalked up to a sad coincidence rather than what it was: hatred and revenge. After leaving the condo, he returned to the club to dispose of those three fuckheads, then he’d showered, anxious to see Rebel.
When he arrived back at the hospital, Diesel only wanted to see Rebel. Anxious, he stepped off the elevator and walked to the sitting area right outside the club’s special wing.
“Diesel!” Axel shouted, barreling to him in a blur of motion and throwing his arms around Diesel’s waist. He buried his face against Diesel and wept. “They tried to take Reb from us again.”
Nausea twisted in Diesel’s gut, but he shoved it aside, lifted Axel into his arms and urged the little boy’s head onto his shoulder. “She’s going to be okay, Ax.”
Axel sniffled. “That’s what Mom said, too.”
The usual cast waited. Torrin leaned against a wall, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, when he’d helped Diesel obtain the drugs needed to kill Tabitha.
Narci lounged in a chair, after he’d supplied the drugs to kill that cunt.
Bishop, Huck, Pike, Seven, Zephyr, Kenny, Potter, Bowlie, House, Burger…
other members…were pacing. Leaning against walls. Sitting in chairs.
But not the officers or the cousins or the aunts. Not Easton.
He wanted to know their whereabouts, but he wanted to see Rebel more than anything else in the world. He was the reason she was there. He should’ve taken more precautions to protect her.
Guilt almost brought him to his knees, then he remembered: Jana.
That cunt was culpable too. He could forgive her anything except this.
She’d endangered Rebel, and he hated her.
He’d fucking believed she thought enough of Rebel to control herself.
He’d fucking believed she wanted that motherfucking tennis bracelet so she wouldn’t feel lesser. He might watch her choke on it.
He’d known Jana sold pussy, ass, and mouth for drugs. She had no allegiance if it meant a hit. Not to him and not to herself. Apparently, not to Rebel or to his family either.
He shouldn’t have hidden Jana’s addiction. Fuck no! He should’ve put that bitch in rehab. Or put her out of her fucking misery with a bullet between the eyes.
“Diesel?”
CJ’s hoarse voice brought Diesel back from the edge of finding Jana and strangling her. A bullet was too fucking impersonal.
Little hands clapped his cheeks and Diesel blinked, meeting Axel’s concerned gaze.
“You’re red and your skin is hot. You got fevers?”
“No, Ax,” Diesel said gruffly, wondering how everything went so far off the fucking rails.
CJ clasped Diesel’s shoulder. “Rebel’s a fighter, Diesel. She’ll be home tomorrow or the next day.”
The calm words unleashed Diesel’s rage.
“They were grown men!” he roared. “She shouldn’t have fucking fought. What the fuck is wrong with her? She thinks she’s Supergirl, able to beat any motherfucker. Well, she fucking can’t. They could’ve fucking killed her.”
Swallowing, CJ nodded, his eyes watering and his nose reddening, shaken more than he admitted. “If she hadn’t fought, they would’ve kidnapped Jana—”
“Then she should’ve left that miserable cunt to her fate.” The absolute silence of the sitting area seeped into Diesel and made him reassess his telling statement. “Left Jana to her fucking fate.”
CJ studied Diesel. Axel leaned back, wiped an arm over his nose, and frowned.
“Jana’s been admitted, too,” CJ said carefully, watching him closely. “Mom’s having her moved into Rebel’s room.”
“No.” Diesel didn’t give a fuck how they took his decree. He didn’t want her within two feet of Rebel ever again. “She can be on the wing but not in Rebel’s room. Put her in the fucking storage closet for all I fucking care.”
Rocking on his heels, CJ glanced over his shoulder toward the door, then looked at Diesel again. “Rebel walked up on a drug deal, didn’t she?”
Diesel clenched his jaw, barely able to remember why he wanted to save Jana from a grisly fate at Uncle Christopher’s hands when he wanted to chop her and box her himself.
“Tell me the truth, Diesel,” CJ croaked. “Please?”
Setting Axel on his feet, Diesel walked to the other side of the room, about to lose his fucking mind.
Axel followed. When Diesel leaned against the wall, so did Axel.
CJ stayed in his spot, separated by chairs, tables, and bikers. In a roomful of people, Diesel had never felt more alone.
“I was about to practice my presentation with Skye,” CJ started, shoving his hands into his pockets, drawing everyone’s attention. “Axel was threatening Billson’s job. I’d just found out our little brother extorted our father for five thousand dollars.”
Laughter broke the tense atmosphere.
Diesel smiled. “You need to lawyer up, Ax?” he asked, wrapping an arm around his little brother’s shoulders.
Axel shook his head. “I’m not in trouble. Dad paying me to keep Mom away on my birthday benefits him. And Billson knew he should’ve done more stuffs to get Molly’s entry through.”
Later, Diesel would ask what that meant. He didn’t have the energy right now. He looked at his brother. “What’s your point, CJ?”
“It was a normal day, Diesel. Normal. Like we’d rewound to the day we went to the Scorched Devil’s clubhouse.
No, further, to Dad’s 49th birthday party.
Mom was so fucking happy when we left this morning.
Then Uncle Mort came and it all went to shit.
I walked in Rebel’s room and I saw her exhaustion and anguish. I heard her worry for Jana.”
Diesel glanced away, still on the verge of unhinging but more aware now, reminding himself that, if the wrong motherfucker got wind of Jana’s involvement, they’d run to Uncle Christopher.
“Even before Uncle Mort came, I wished I was at the mall with Rebel,” CJ continued, his voice dull. Sorrowful. “I would never have forgiven myself if my…our little sister was killed. Beaten. Drowned.”
“Shut the fuck up, CJ.” Diesel couldn’t even hear those fucking words.
Images rose to the surface of her alone, without him, fighting for her life.
For Jana. He’d almost lost Rebel again. Too soon after the first near drowning.
“Before I fucking kill you for talking about Rebel dead. And you’re right.
She’s your little sister.” He ignored Axel’s narrowed eyes and CJ’s disapproving look.
He didn’t care about the confusion of the brothers.
He couldn’t claim her that way anymore. Not when…
fuck. “She survived,” he said with cold fury, livid at the fucking world, but most especially Jana.
He wanted to contain it. He needed to. Because he needed her.
She was supposed to keep him on the straight-and-now.
Be the girl she’d been when she talked him into meeting the mysterious client.
Tio, but whatever. Jana wasn’t supposed to be an addicted slut, hell-bent on ignoring what he asked her to do and be.
CJ stalked to him and halted, within striking distance.
“I don’t give a fuck what you want to hear, motherfucker.
It’s the fucking truth. Rebel almost fucking died because of Jana.
Admit it. Don’t admit it. I don’t give a fuck.
” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I asked Rebel what happened after we performed Little Red to cheer her up—”
“It worked, too,” Axel gushed, but even his little boy enthusiasm couldn’t break through Diesel’s rage. He wanted to know about the effects of the attack on Rebel, not if some childish performance succeeded.
“What did she say happened, CJ?” he demanded, ignoring Axel and his crestfallen expression at Diesel’s unaccustomed brushoff.
“She and Jana agreed to separate because your fiancée said she doesn’t like shopping.
She wouldn’t answer Rebel’s texts about clothes sizes.
When you told Rebel you were coming and Jana still wouldn’t answer, she went to the gourmet grocery store.
From there, she went to Turn Creek and…” CJ clenched his jaw.
“Rebel thinks Jana called Tabitha because she was lonely. We both know she called Tabitha once before for drugs. That’s what she did this time, too. Isn’t it?”
Not answering, Diesel skirted around CJ, heading for the intercom near the double doors, too close to killing anyone responsible for Rebel’s condition. “I need to see Rebel.” He jabbed the button.
“May I help you?” a voice said over the speaker as Jana finally arrived.
Easton and Stretch flanked a gurney, where she lay, pushed by an orderly. Bruises littered her swollen face. Diesel didn’t give a fuck. His hand settling on the gun holstered at his side, he planted himself in front of the doors as the orderly wheeled her closer.
“I don’t want her near Rebel,” he said.
Jana opened the eye not swollen shut. “Diesel—”
“She’s injured, too,” Easton said as if he had a right to fucking speak on this matter. “You’re stressing her out.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” Diesel looked at the orderly. “You can go. We’ll straighten this out and get her to where she belongs.”
The orderly took in the patches, looked at Diesel again, turned and walked away. Motherfucker had amazing survival instincts. He rushed to the elevator down the hall and punched the call button.
“I got the messages from Jana’s phone, Diesel,” Stretch said grimly after they watched the orderly disappear into the elevator.
“It’s fairly easy to piece together what actually happened.
” He eyed Diesel and walked closer. “She also told me what happened. She almost got herself and Rebel killed. If Meggie finds out, Jana’s dead.
If you want her to survive, it must be this way. ”