Chapter 19 – Diesel
Tossing back yet another shot didn’t help Diesel escape the memory of Rebel.
Earlier today, proclaiming all she had to do was snap her miserable little fingers and he’d run to her.
Yesterday, fighting so desperately for her life; sitting on the ground next to Jana; laying in her hospital bed and declaring they’d become lovers.
What the fuck was wrong with her, putting that idea out there and planting it in his imagination? Her nude body already lived in his fucking head, rent free. Now she’d taken it a step further and voiced his dick’s most ardent fantasy.
Fuck. He couldn’t put it all on her. Since her little stunt where she’d undressed, his brain couldn’t reconcile her womanly curves with her actual age and immaturity.
If she were sixteen, he might say ‘fuck it’ and make love to her. Though her fifteenth birthday was days away, he couldn’t imagine himself sinking to that level of depravity and taking her to his bed.
The clubhouse was almost deserted, except for eight or nine fuckheads at two tables near where Diesel sat at the bar on a stool.
“Another one, Diesel?” Kenny asked, poising the bottle of tequila above the empty shot glass.
Diesel shrugged, not caring either way. Kenny poured the drink.
Torrin slid into the seat next to Diesel. “I’ll have one.”
Narci took the stool on Diesel’s left side. “Me, too.”
Diesel sidled a glance at Torrin.
“I shouldn’t have listened to Rebel,” Torrin grumbled as Kenny slid a filled shot glass to him and then to Narci.
“You shouldn’t have gone with Rebel,” Narci started. “She’s a fucking handful—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Diesel interrupted, “before you say something about her that I’ll take issue with.” Ignoring Narci’s glare, he turned to Torrin. “Tell me you don’t leave Rebel or Aunt Meggie alone often.”
Torrin’s wariness annoyed Diesel. “Outlaw tells us to keep them happy, Diesel. If they don’t want us dogging their steps, what am I supposed to do?”
“Call Outlaw,” Diesel and Narci chorused.
“Because, motherfucker, she could’ve been killed,” Diesel finished. “What the fuck is wrong with you? The club has enemies—”
“Apparently, from within,” Torrin told him, not in a disrespectful way but with the latitude of a best friend. “None of this would’ve happened if Jana hadn’t gotten Tabitha involved.”
“Don’t remind me,” Diesel said, barely civil, snatching his tequila and tossing it back. “I hate that cunt.”
“You hate Jana?” Narci asked. “You’re speaking in the present tense, when Tabitha is decidedly in the past. Hating a dead woman is a wasted emotion.”
Wishing he could kill Tabitha again, Diesel gritted his teeth, then beckoned Kenny. “Leave the fucking bottle,” he ordered.
“Powder’s better. I got a special shipment in just for you, Big D.”
Diesel didn’t care. Staying away from coke hadn’t done any good.
Jana was still addicted, he was still him, and Rebel was still unattainable.
He’d wanted to stay clean so Uncle Christopher and Aunt Meggie would be proud of him.
Yet he was just a fuck-up, everything his father ever accused him of being.
If he’d done what he should’ve, Jana wouldn’t have had the need for powder. Fuck. No. If he’d kept her away like Aunt Meggie wanted, Rebel wouldn’t have been in danger.
“Bring me a beer, Kenny,” Narci said, lifting a brow at Diesel and waiting for his response.
“I’ll take one, too,” Torrin added.
Diesel grabbed the half-empty bottle of tequila and gulped.
“Did you shoot up Tabitha with all the drugs Torrin brought to you?” Narci asked.
Setting the beer cans down, Kenny lifted his brows. “Wait. You killed her, Diesel?”
“What do you think?” Narci said. “She got Rebel fucked up—”
“Bro, shut the fuck up.” Torrin glared from Narci to Kenny. “If you repeat what the fuck you heard, I’m snapping your fucking skinny neck, Kenny.”
The kid gulped and raised his hands. “I’m not repeating it. It’s just that I know Diesel’s marriage was tied to the peace agreement.”
Diesel swigged from the bottle again. “What’s it to you?”
“It’s nothing to you, Kenny,” Torrin answered. “That cunt had Scorpion ties. She was Diesel’s wife but she wasn’t loyal to us. Understand, boy?”
Eyes bulging, Kenny nodded and swallowed.
“Good,” Torrin said. “We protect our women and girls. Not sluts who suck the cocks of enemies. Remember that and get the fuck out of our faces.”
Once Kenny scurried away, Torrin leaned forward and glared at Narci. “What the fuck is your problem, asshole? Blabbing that shit in front of the wrong motherfucker can get back to Bash.”
“I didn’t realize he was there,” Narci said defensively.
A text message alert came through, followed immediately by another one. Blowing out a heavy breath, Diesel scrubbed a hand over his face. It was either Rebel or Jana. They’d both been blowing up his phone the entire night.
“Can I ask you something, Diesel?”
“What, Torrin?”
“A few weeks ago, when Outlaw called out your drug use, he also accused you of wanting Rebel. We all thought he might’ve been exaggerating.”
“I found it amusing.” Torrin cocked his head to the side. “But is it true?”
What could Diesel say? He was trying so hard not to be like his father but failing miserably?
He was a sex addict who loved fucking a beautiful body?
Rebel got under his skin like no one else ever had?
What? He couldn’t defend the indefensible and unlawfulness, so he shrugged with careless disregard.
A pretense. He was torn and twisted inside.
“We have nothing in common. She’s a child. I’m a grown man.”
“She hasn’t been a child in a very long time,” Narci countered. “Maybe by her age, but she’s seen and heard things out of the realm of most children’s imaginations. Neither does she act like a child or dress like one.”
“It doesn’t take away the fact that she is,” Diesel said flatly as another message came through.
“But you want to fuck her.”
Torrin’s statement fanned the flames of Diesel’s jealousy and possessiveness. He swiveled his stool and faced his friend.
“If you ever think about Rebel and fucking, mention her and fucking in the same sentence, I will cut your fucking tongue out, then dig out your brain through your fucking nose.”
Raising his hands in surrender, Torrin shook his head. “I’m trying to help you, Diesel. Not disrespect her.”
“Help me how?” Diesel barked. “By knocking me the fuck out and putting me in a fucking coma until she’s eighteen?”
“Fuck,” Narci groaned. “I can’t imagine her at eighteen. She’s already hell-on-wheels. When she’s legal, she’s going to be hotter than fuck.” He blew out a breath.
Turning to Narci, Diesel kicked his stool and toppled it, sending that fuckhead to the floor.
“Fuck, D.” Uninjured, Narci sprang to his feet and righted the chair. “Why the fuck you did that?”
“You fucking figure it out.”
Keeping the stool between him and Diesel, Narci leaned against the bar. “Are you leaving Jana? Unless you are, whatever I mean shouldn’t concern you.”
“Says you. What she does is most certainly my fucking concern, and don’t ever forget that.”
“Let me lay all the cards on the table, D.” Narci took his time lighting a cigarette before continuing. “We had almost this exact conversation with Rebel a few days ago and—”
“What?” Diesel snarled, stopped from throat punching Narci because Torrin grabbed his hand.
“I’m just keeping it real,” Narci told him.
“And I will see you fucking dead,” Diesel barked. “Don’t look at Rebel. Don’t talk to Rebel. Don’t breathe in her direction. It’s grounds to pluck your fucking eyes out, cut your fucking tongue away, and chop your fucking fingers off.”
“Fingers?” Narci echoed, amused. “I don’t remember saying I’d touch—”
Diesel growled.
“Bro, if you want her, Torrin and I might be the only way you can have her without detection.” Narci shrugged. “It’s up to you.”
“Fuck you. I’m talking to you as her big brother.”
“Let’s go to my room,” Torrin suggested, then nodded toward the recessed bar overflowing with bottles and the bank of monitors, one of which showed them. “Away from the cameras.”
Diesel didn’t care. He faced a lifetime of Jana because of a predicament of his own making. Death was preferable to that whiny manipulator.
Grabbing his collar, Torrin dragged Diesel to his room, closing it once Narci walked in with their drinks.
“I want to show you something, Diesel.” Torrin released him and walked to his desk. He pulled out a photo and held it up.
A beautiful woman with glossy hair and big blue eyes stared at him.
“Jekka?” Diesel asked in confusion, Torrin’s daughter’s mother, a stripper who Torrin still fucked from time-to-time.
“She’ll be twenty-three in June.”
News to Diesel. He counted in his head. “Isn’t Agatha seven?”
“Almost eight,” Torrin said quietly. “Her birthday is a week after her mother’s.”
Diesel choked.
“I killed Jekka’s brother, D. That motherfucker came gunning for me. I don’t blame him, but I happen to like living, so I got the drop on him and took my shot.”
Narci stretched out on Torrin’s neatly made bed. “I take it Miss Jekka doesn’t know?”
“Jekka knows, fuckhead,” Torrin said flatly, “so get the idea to blackmail me the fuck out of your wretched mind.”
“How low do you think I am?” Narci asked with indignation. “Bros before hoes. Besides, you’re my friend.”
“You two settle your shit some other time,” Diesel said, rapidly sobering up. He studied Torrin. “What the fuck are you suggesting, motherfucker? An affair with Rebel? She isn’t Jekka. A girl who ran a con against you. Except you forgot to mention how fucking young she was.”
“I didn’t know her age, Diesel,” Torrin snapped. “Not until Heath came after me. She told me she was legal. I don’t ask for ID to fuck a chick.”
Narci whistled. “It sounds as if she scammed you in more ways than one.”