Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
DIESEL
Iwondered what normal people did when their emotions became too much. Did they just yell until they felt better? Cry it out?
What feeling did they have instead of the nagging desperation to numb it all with getting high?
The Shed had been quiet today, most of the guys out on jobs while Skeeter locked himself in the office, and I’d returned from a gun trade deal with Brick and Samuel at the same time Skeeter and Caden arrived.
I wasn’t even aware Skeeter had left the Shed.
Skeeter’s lip was bleeding and he had bruises forming on his face. My guess was Marco, but then again, Skeeter was picking fights with literally anyone at this point. He’d fight a streetlight if it looked at him sideways right now.
“Devils?” Samuel asked dryly, saying what I was thinking, but Skeeter scoffed as we all made our way into the Shed.
“Gilbert.”
“That little fucker tried to fight you?”
“Ty needed a reminder smack too. Mouthy bastard,” he muttered, getting a grumble of agreement from Caden. This was getting ridiculous.
“What for now?” I asked, my stomach dropping when he replied.
“Acting like it’s my fault Aurora got shivved yesterday.”
Asking questions would have gotten me punched too, but thankfully, Brick asked for me.
“I take it she’s fine?”
“Guess so. Ty was asking me to put protection on her,” he answered, giving me a firm look. “You need to go home to bed. You haven’t been sleeping and I don’t like the idea of you having my back in a shootout right now. You’re not alert enough. If you need help, get some meds, man.”
I couldn’t take sleeping pills and he fucking knew it.
“I’m fine. You need me for that meeting with Hendricks tonight,” I argued, but he just scowled.
“No, I need you to go home. Brick, you can head off too, you’ve been here for over twenty-four hours. I’ll take some of the others tonight, it’s fine.”
“I won’t argue. Thanks, boss,” Brick replied, giving me a nudge. “C’mon, you’re asleep on your feet.”
I wasn’t. I was well past the point of being exhausted. I’d napped once in three days, but I was so wired on my emotions that it was like I’d been given a shot of adrenaline. Knowing Rory had been shivved only made it ten times worse because I couldn’t get answers.
If I could contact Hunter though, he might know.
“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I finally said, deciding going home to call Hunter was a way better idea than going to see Hendricks, and Skeeter seemed relieved at my acceptance.
I headed outside to my truck, waving to Brick as he drove off, and I fought myself to stick to the speed limit, sending Hunter a text.
Diesel: Meet me at my place.
Hunter: You sure? Give me an hour. Dealing with something.
Diesel: Positive.
Did I want him at my house? No, but the only way I’d get answers about Rory without Skeeter finding out was to have Hunter come to me.
I had a beer when I got home, but that didn’t hit the spot. I did some push-ups, had a snack, and tried focusing on anything other than my panic for Rory. I felt sick, the anxiety clawing at me until I was rummaging in my bedroom drawer, needing it to stop.
How could I feel like this forever? I couldn’t.
Rory needed me, and just like the shit with Sasha, I was forced to stand back and let the Psychos destroy her.
Angry tears burned my eyes as my shaky hands picked up the syringe I’d stashed, mentally fighting myself on it until I let out a curse and snatched the baggie of small crystals. The blood was rushing in my ears, my head loud as my emotions and thoughts clashed with one another.
This was why I couldn’t have Rory. Maybe the universe had spared Sasha from me? Was I the problem?
Self-hatred washed through me, and I angrily prepped my syringe in the kitchen before yanking off my belt and jacket, tightening the belt around my bicep.
I wanted to scream and cry at the same time, sliding down to the floor and just holding the syringe while choking on a sob. I was weak, it would always be like this. If I took this step, I couldn’t take it back. Rory fucking needed me, I had to stop.
I smacked my head back against the cupboard as if it would knock some damn sense into me, staring at my inner arm and lifting the syringe to it.
This feeling would go away if I just did it. I could stop fighting.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Hunter murmured when he appeared in front of me, giving me space but being close enough to tackle me if he had to. “You’re okay, man.”
“Do I fucking look okay?” I snapped, holding the syringe a little tighter.
“Talk to me. You don’t want to do that.”
“I do. I really, really do,” I said weakly. “I can’t help her, Hunt. She deserves better.”
“You can help her, we’re working on it. You deserve more than this too. Come on, give it to me,” he said calmly, reaching a hand out to take it. I pulled it back, blinking past more tears and cursing at myself. I knew I’d been a mess lately, but how had it gotten to this point again?
“I’m tired of this fight,” I croaked, my shoulders drooping.
“Do you need Skeet? Brick? Who can help you right now if you don’t want me to. I know you need it to stop, but this isn’t it, D,” he replied, shuffling closer to try and take the syringe again.
This time, I let him, smacking my head back against the cupboard again.
He put his hand on my head to stop me from doing it again, standing to empty the syringe down the drain before squatting in front of me and hugging me so tightly that I just completely went slack in his hold and sobbed like a fucking baby.
“I’ve got you, man,” he promised, one of his hands going to the back of my head to keep me close as the other loosened the belt around my arm and slid it off before hugging me again.
I clung to him as if he could fix me, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
No one could fucking fix me.
Hunter
It took two hours to calm Diesel down. It had been a long time since I’d seen him like that, and part of me was pissed at Skeeter over it. Had he not noticed Diesel slipping? Was he so caught up in this bullshit about Rory that he couldn’t put it aside long enough for Diesel’s sake?
I’d warned him about it coming to this, but he hadn’t believed me.
“How long has this been going on?” I asked once we were sitting on the couch, his face scrunching. “You know I won’t judge you for it. I mean it, talk to me.”
“Since I kissed Rory,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “It’s gotten bad since the night she was arrested though.”
“Does Skeet know?”
“If it involves Rory then it just pisses him off. He knows I’m getting twitchy, but—”
“If you can’t rely on him, you know I’ll push all of our bullshit aside for you. Nothing is more important than you staying sober,” I insisted, patting his knee.
“Have you heard from her? She got shivved?” he asked, and I blew out a breath.
“Yeah. Lexi got attacked and Rory jumped in. Got shivved in the abdomen twice and spent the night in the hospital. She was discharged this morning.”
“Did you get to speak to her?”
“No, but Mark rode down there and broke into the hospital last night through the air duct. Idiot fell asleep with her and almost got caught this morning,” I scoffed, shaking my head a little.
Relief filled his face, his voice soft. “He spent the night with her?”
“Yeah. No major damage but she needs time to heal. She cried herself to sleep on him though, so she’s not coping in there. I know Lex, and Rory jumping in and getting shivved for her is a huge loyalty boost. The girls should have her back more now, so hopefully, things will settle,” I explained.
“Don’t tell her about me. About—”
“I won’t. She can’t help you in there anyway, so it would just stress her out for no reason. Are you going to be fine on your own tonight? Be honest.”
“I don’t know.”
“Can I get Skeet to pick you up? I know you don’t like people here. You can crash with me, but it will likely cause more issues for you, and Marco’s struggling too, so I’m not sure it’s a great idea having both of you together right now,” I said with a cringe, and he winced.
“Skeet’s busy.”
“He needs to learn there’s no point being at the top if everything below you crumbles.
Being the king of nothing holds no power,” I answered, reaching over to cup the nape of his neck, forcing him to look at me.
“If you need him or any of your other brothers, you tell them. If they don’t drop everything for you, then what’s the point in being part of a crew? Your crew is your family.”
“The crew is why I’m like this.”
“As much as I’d love them to take the blame, that’s not true. You were strung out when you met them,” I reminded him.
“I wish Slash was here. None of this would’ve happened if he was,” he whispered, and I gave him a sad smile.
“I know, man. Look,” I chuckled, pulling back from him to grab my phone, finding the selfie Marco had sent me of him with Rory. “Does that help?”
He took my phone, his eyes studying the photo as if he could transfer himself into it.
“She looks tired,” he mumbled.
“She was drugged up and half asleep, but she’s definitely tired.”
“Any closer to getting her out?”
I let him hold onto my phone a little longer since it didn’t seem like he was in a hurry to hand it back, and I relaxed into the couch to get comfortable.
“Not really. Once I know who the witness is, I can get rid of them. There’s no case without them.”
“What about the murder weapon?”
“They have to be bluffing because we disposed of that ourselves.”
He frowned, and it was good to give him something to focus on. It would drown out the other noise in his head.
“Without the witness, surely the weapon is useless, right? There’s no body or shell casings to match the weapon even if they have one with her prints on it,” he finally said, making me nod.
“The worst they can get her for is having an unmarked firearm. First major offense while being backed by Josie Holloway and represented by Kirk Jennings? Yeah, she’ll be out in no time. I just need to find out the witnesses fucking name to make them vanish.”
“I’ll do some digging,” he offered, and I shook my head.