Chapter Twenty-Five
“Ow!” she moaned, rubbing the injury and sitting up. She blinked at her unfamiliar surroundings. Until memories swarmed her brain and realization dawned.
She was on the sofa at Aunt Zoann’s and Uncle Val’s. No, she was on the floor. Last night, her father dropped her off and didn’t bother telling her goodbye. The minute Uncle Val opened the door, Daddy turned and walked away.
Uncle Val didn’t have much to say to her either, so she’d gone to Ryan’s room, opened her computer, opened her camera app, and undressed, sobbing the entire way through. Pillar of Earth warned her if it happened again, she’d regret it. They wanted her happy .
She’d already pissed them off by taking too long and ignoring his instructions.
Not long after that ordeal was over and she’d put her clothes back on, Ryan returned from wherever and ordered her out of his room, angry that his parents chewed him out because she said they kissed.
“ Rebel said we kissed, idiot,” she’d fumed.
“Yeah, and you can’t even fucking appreciate her not ratting you the fuck out. Get over yourself, Harley.”
“How dare you? You had sex with me! You would’ve been ratted out, too.”
“I didn’t take what you wasn’t willing to give, so shut the fuck up. You gave it up to add to your arsenal against CJ. When will you get it through your hard fucking head that all you’re doing is alienating him further?”
“He was supposed to punch you! You haven’t spoken to me in days.”
“You really expect me or anyone else to want to talk to your whiny, scheming ass? Now, get out of my fucking room. I’m tired.”
He’d been serious, so she’d gone downstairs to the sofa, wailing as loudly as possible, determined to draw someone out.
No one came.
Angry, she stormed to the bathroom, locked herself in, and jumped into the shower, staying under the spray until it turned cold. Ignoring the banging on the door and Aunt Zoann frantically calling her name pleased Harley to no end.
She’d yelled, “Go away. I’m not done yet.”
When she finally left the bathroom, everything was dark and still. They’d gone to bed, hopefully pissing themselves .
Now, the house was silent, as if they’d forgotten her. She didn’t smell bacon or coffee. She didn’t hear Aunt Zoann bustling around or Uncle Val walking out the back door to take care of Hogzilla.
The bell rang. She waited, expecting Uncle Val to appear since he usually answered the door. The bell rang again. It dawned on her that no one was home.
She glanced at the clock. 10:15AM.
Aunt Zoann had allowed her to oversleep. Harley had missed school. What was going on? Had something happened?
The bell rang a third time.
Spooked, Harley stood and tipped to the door. “Who is it?”
“Grant.”
Harley swallowed, real fear erasing everything else. She hurriedly unlocked the door.
Lolly’s stepson brushed past Harley. He was tall and handsome, blond like Pop. He looked exhausted.
“Get dressed, Harley.” He offered no explanation for why he was in town and at the log cabin so early in the morning. “We have to go.”
“What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were coming to town.”
He grimaced, rubbed the back of his neck. “Sloane was in New York and had his pilot come to Boston to pick me up on his way here.”
Panic hit Harley, but she bit her lip. Grant didn’t like her anymore. If she started to cry, he wouldn’t care. “Is Lolly and Pop okay?”
Scowling, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you give a fuck?”
Maybe, she deserved Grant’s derision, but after watching her father walk away, enduring Ryan’s rejection, and Pillar of Earth’s debasing, she couldn’t handle another argument. She turned. “Get out,” she threw over her shoulder.
Grant swore. “I didn’t intend to tell you because I have a fucking headache, and I don’t want to deal with your tears.”
“Then don’t! I don’t want to deal with you .”
“I’m only here because Mort sent me. I can walk out that fucking door and leave you in the dark.”
“About what?” Harley screeched, rounding on him.
“Roxy wants you there, too.”
“For what?” She smirked. “Did the old battle ax break a nail? Waa-waa-waa.”
“You’re so fucking impossible. Roxy has enough consideration for you when you’ve pissed off everyone else. Aunt Zoann and Uncle Val tried to get you to open the fucking door last night, so you could go with them.”
“Where?” Harley cried in frustration. “Stop with the fucking drama. It’s unnecessary. I’ll bet you five bucks whatever the emergency is can’t compare to how ruined my life is.”
“You think?”
She thought of Pillar of Earth. “I know .”
“Fine. You be the judge.”
“Just tell me already.”
A pained expression crossed Grant’s face. “CJ overdosed.”
Sitting in the cafeteria nursing his third cup of coffee, Diesel couldn’t stop thinking about the moment CJ collapsed. Guilt would eat him the fuck alive. Aunt Meggie’s punches were the least he deserved.
Once the doctor left, Aunt Meggie hugged Mortician and Diesel.
All she could say was thank you , when all it would’ve taken was a word from him and CJ wouldn’t have almost died in the first place.
But Diesel was all for experiences. It was part of the reason he was so fucked up.
Instead of learning from his own fuckups and addictions, he’d ignored CJ’s reservations.
Shoving his fingers through his hair, he yanked as hard as possible, enjoying the pain.
It didn’t obliterate the memory of CJ collapsing.
His little brother’s gray pallor. His gasp of breath.
The retching that sent them into a frenzy because they hadn’t wanted him to strangle. Then, he’d stopped moving again.
Diesel thought he was gone. He would never have forgiven himself. Aunt Meggie and Uncle Christopher never would’ve forgiven him. Even now, she wanted Diesel beat to within an inch of his life. Not her exact words. Mentioning steel-toed boots and the possibility of his death said it all.
Fuck, he didn’t blame her. She hadn’t given birth to him, so he didn’t have the same immunity her biological sons would’ve had. Not that it mattered. She’d been his mother for almost half his life and only wanted his loyalty.
Fine way to repay her. By subjecting CJ to a bunch of vicious fuckheads. The coke, codeine, and promethazine were a lethal combination without motherfucking booze and rubbing alcohol added to the mix.
Lost in the moment, still angry from his confrontation with CJ and Dementor, wanting pussy from Diana, hopped up on alcohol and lean, wishing he’d never left Jana after fucking her, Diesel believed tomorrow would come, CJ would sober up, and they’d laugh off whatever had happened.
Except Gail, Joplin and Diana hadn’t meant for CJ to survive. They’d poisoned him.
Those cunts tried to kill his little brother.
Diesel couldn’t wait to get his fucking hands on them.
He didn’t know if they’d gotten the order from those four fuckheads with them.
Not that it mattered. Dementor, Exorcist, Bedhead, and Narci were still dead, too.
Perhaps , Narci would be spared like Aunt Meggie wanted since the motherfucker helped save CJ.
“Diesel?”
Raising his head, he met Stretch’s steady gaze. The club treasurer and resident tracker held his own cup of coffee. He looked as exhausted as everyone. He nodded to the empty chair. “May I?”
“Of course.”
Taking the seat, Stretch sipped coffee, then set the cup aside. “Leave Rebel alone, asshole.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Did I fucking stutter? You’re lucky I saw that fucking tape and overheard your argument with CJ instead of Outlaw.”
The reminder killed Diesel’s anger. He winced.
“Yeah, wince, motherfucker. It’s shameful. Leave her the fuck alone.”
“You’ve already said that,” he snapped, humiliated. He knew he played a dangerous game, but he couldn’t seem to stay away from her.
Especially when he was drunk or high.
“Rebel deserves better than a fucking sex addict and sadist, fuckhead.”
A muscle ticked in Diesel’s jaw. “I’m not a sexual sadist.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m new to the game, so I didn’t realize there are levels and categories to sadism.”
“If a motherfucker deserves to die, why let them go easy, Stretch? ”
He glared at Diesel. “Let’s forget your issues . You’re her brother.”
Diesel couldn’t remember Stretch ever acknowledging him as a Caldwell. Of all the men deemed ‘uncle’, only a handful referred to him as Outlaw’s son.
“I’m not a Caldwell,” he said quietly.
“I should show Outlaw that video just for those traitorous words. If you ever say that to Meggie, it’ll crush her.”
“Would it really?”
Stretch glared at him.
“Sometimes, I feel as if I don’t belong anywhere.” Even after CJ’s touching words. “I wonder what I did to have run across Uncle Christopher and Aunt Meggie on a fluke.”
Folding his arms and resting an ankle on a knee, Stretch leaned back. “I was once a self-pitying fuckhead, too, Diesel. It almost ate me alive.”
Diesel remembered. “I didn’t think you or Cash deserved Fee. I was in love with her. Or I thought I was.”
Stretch shrugged. “It worked out as it was meant to. I love her and my kids. I love my husband. I just want to shoot that motherfucker sometimes.”
“You didn’t think he’d have the same outlook on life if Ophelia ever delivered his son, did you? He loves himself too much to risk the only child to carry his name into the next generation.”
Anger washed over Stretch’s face. “I love my kids, too. I don’t want anything to happen to them, but we’re in the fucking club. He can’t demand peace all of a sudden now that he has a son. He’s the fucking bomb tech. He detonates shit and motherfuckers. Besides, I thought we shared children.”
“Your sons have your last name,” Diesel pointed out .
Stretch glanced away. “Cash wanted their names to be McCall. I refused. I have a name to carry on, too.”
Interesting, given the way he’d been treated by the Kings. “What did Ophelia say?”
He shrugged. “She’s happy as long as we are. She left it up to us to decide.”