36. Diesel
36
DIESEL
T he beep in Diesel’s ear let him know that his comms had been activated. He shook his head briefly before turning to face his best friend, Jared.
“This is starting to become a way of life for us now,” Diesel noted, giving his friend a smirk and a chuckle. “First Isaac’s psycho brother, then Ares’s crazy old-man stalker, now the mad doctor. Perhaps we should add super spy to our resumes as well.”
“We’re getting kinda good at this, right, brother?” Jared replied, throwing his arm over Diesel’s shoulder.
“Thanks for coming with me to London, Jare. I know you must be missing Isaac like crazy.” Diesel tilted his head toward his friend and gave him an appreciative nod.
“I love the little freak like no one else’s business, but I’ve also got your back, bro. And right now, you needed me here by your side while you get your head right. Although, it appears that I might have been replaced by a certain GQ tradie beast of a man?” Jared gave him a smirk before leaning forward as if someone might overhear.
Diesel shook his head. “No idea what you’re talking about, dude. Protein shakes are getting to your head.”
Jared chuckled. “You forget, I know you, dude. You’ve been fucking your new flatmate on the regular, haven’t you?”
Fuck best friends and their abilities to read you. Diesel let his smile attack his face.
“It’s more than just the sex, Jare.” He couldn’t believe he was about to say this. “But I?—”
“Hey, dudes? You’re speaking over open comms.” Zero’s voice cut in right before Diesel was about to confess his feelings over an open airwave.
Fuck.
Diesel’s heart stopped in his chest, and all the blood drained from his face. Who else was listening in on the comm?
“Shit. Sorry, dude.” Jared rushed to apologize, turning beet red as he faced an angry Diesel.
“I’m not. Who would have guessed that deep inside that black hole of a chest, D has feelings and a heart?” Chase chimed in, chuckling uncontrollably.
Diesel’s cheeks flushed red once again. He raised his hoodie over his head and glared at his best friend and betrayer.
Jared looked back at him with pain in his eyes. “Sorry, buddy, I didn’t realize the comms were on.”
Letting out his usual growl, Diesel turned his attention back to the large metal door they were watching from across the street.
“Whatever. Let’s just get back to watching this shit.” Fucking technology. It was good for nothing.
“Yes, let’s,” Marc’s voice sounded over the comms. He didn’t seem too impressed by the topic of conversation.
Seriously. What was with this dude and his constant growly face? His husband was a fucking golden retriever, yet somehow fell in love with a broody panther. Love seriously made no sense.
Back to the door.
They had been huddled outside for the past two hours, first watching men dressed in tight suits and bow ties—looking like porno-grade waiters enter the building. Now they were watching middle-aged men enter with their dates, both male and female, clinging to their arms for dear life.
Marc had checked—the bar was owned by a numbered company, which meant shit to those who really wanted to know. Of course, whoever owned the bar would want to make it as difficult as possible to identify the nature of the business and ultimate beneficial ownership. Marc was pretty convinced that if he kept on pulling back the layers of ownership, he would eventually discover that the doctor owned or co-owned the club. He had tasked his husband with continuing his research.
For now, they relied on Jared's parabolic microphone, hoping to get close enough to pick up voices and sounds coming from inside the bar.
“This is bullshit. How are we supposed to figure anything out when we have no idea what’s going on inside?” Jared huffed in frustration. He dropped his butt onto the ledge of the building next to them.
“Maybe if you morons would shut the fuck up, we could hear what was being said,” Marc barked into the comms.
Yeah, the guy was kind of a growly asshole when he wanted to be.
Jared was right. They were wasting this opportunity sitting out here hoping for scraps.
Across the street, Diesel watched as an older gentleman knocked on the door and whispered something to the bouncer before the two of them helped the older man’s date into the bar.
Then it hit him.
“All of their dates are wasted. Probably high as fuck, which is why the victims don’t remember how they got to the party,” Diesel rushed, quickly scanning the street for oncoming traffic.
They had no idea how to gain access to the party. All they kept hearing were random passwords being given by the men approaching the door. Were these passwords then matched against a list of guest names?
Once again, there were too many unknowns.
“Shit. I think the emo stripper is right,” Marc grumbled over the comms.
“Use your nice words, or I’m telling your husband, Marc,” Chase warned, to Diesel’s surprise.
Perhaps Chase really was one of them now.
“We gotta get inside that party.” Diesel huffed.
“Yeah, but we have no way in,” Zero jumped in.
“Over there. That’s my ticket.” Diesel pointed at a man helping a wasted dude out of his car. The car was parked in a dark, secluded lot around the corner from the bar.
“No, D, you’re not—” Zero began.
Diesel wasn’t listening. He didn’t care what Zero or any of the others had to say. They needed to get into that party, and he was their best shot at getting in.
“Here, hold this,” Diesel said to Jared, passing him his sweater before pulling a small bottle of whiskey out of their equipment bag—what was a stakeout without a little booze and snacks?
He took a swig of the whiskey before pouring a shit ton of it over his skintight tank top before tossing the closed bottle back in his bag.
Next, he reached into the side pocket and pulled out a tiny metal container from which he pulled out a pre-rolled joint. It was a little party favor that he had been saving for later on in the night when he and Jared got bored as fuck.
“D, what the heck are you doing?” Jared asked, watching him light up the end and take two quick tokes. He needed to look believable.
“Here, you can have the rest.” He passed the joint to Jared, then took off jogging toward the man who had finally managed to get his date out of the car.
As he approached the man, he wondered if this was the smartest move. But they didn’t have any other options. They needed to get inside that party.
“Hey, stud, how’s it going?” Diesel asked, sneaking up beside the man and slipping his arm through the man’s left arm.
“What?” the man cried, startled. He stumbled under the weight of his date.
“Looks like your date is done for the night,” Diesel said, brushing his firm body up against the man’s. “How about you come party with me instead?”
The man looked between Diesel and his date. “No. Umm, my date is fine. He’s just had a few too many to drink.”
Judging by the fact that his date could barely stand up, he figured that his date had gone well past the limit for personal consent. Men… and women like this asshole were pigs. Taking advantage of people, especially when they were not in control of themselves, made him sick.
“Well, if your date is this drunk on their own, I’m pretty sure he’ll be shit at sucking your dick for you later, dude. I, on the other hand,” Diesel stepped out in front of the man, grabbing his own cock in the process, “can show you the night of your life.”
The man licked his lips as he stared down at Diesel’s rapidly thickening cock. Thank God for his ability to pop a boner in any given situation.
“Come on. How about we go do some lines, then you can suck on my hog until you bust a nut?”
Diesel wasn’t used to having to work so hard to convince a guy to suck his dick. Maybe he really was losing his dick mojo.
The man’s gaze slid up Diesel’s lean frame before landing on his bulge once again.
Smirking, the horny pig released his grip on his date, allowing the poor kid to fall to the ground with a disturbing grunt. The asshole didn’t seem to care what became of the boy.
Thankfully, Chase and the other guys were watching, so they would be able to get this kid some help.
“Sure. Why not,” the man said, wrapping his arm around Diesel and leading him toward the door to the private party.
This was it. The moment of truth. Would they be granted entrance into the club or rejected the moment they opened their mouth?
“Name?” the doorman asked.
“Mr. Yellow,” the man replied, waiting as the doorman scanned the list of names on his clipboard.
Guests must use code names. That would make sense if they didn’t want a record of their attendance at this party.
Tapping his finger on the name, the doorman looked up at them.
“Gotcha. You and your guest can go inside.”
Diesel took a step to the side, pretending to be high and lose his balance. The man caught him and wrapped his arm around his waist.
“This way,” he said before leading Diesel through the doors and into the darkness of the private club.
Inside, another host waited to greet them.
“Welcome, Mr. Yellow; how are you this evening?”
“Great, good. Where’s my stuff?” the man asked, seeming impatient with the interaction. Diesel wasn’t sure what that was all about.
The man who greeted them gave him a smile before pulling a small baggy from his suit jacket and handing it to Mr. Yellow.
“If you don’t mind,” the man said.
“Yeh, no problem.”
Diesel felt powerful hands grab him, then spin him around so that he was facing Mr. Yellow.
“Here, take this,” Diesel’s date growled, shoving a pill into Diesel’s open hand.
“What is it?” he heard Zero’s voice whisper in his ear. Oh yeah, the guys were still listening in. His guardian angels.
“What’s with the red pill?” Diesel asked, hoping to answer Zero’s question while getting an answer of his own.
“It’s ecstasy. Don’t worry. It’s good. You’ll like it,” the rough man grumbled.
It wasn’t ecstasy.
Diesel had taken many pills and snorted many powders; he knew when he was looking at ecstasy, and that right there was no fucking ecstasy.
“Don’t take it,” he heard Marc’s voice say through his earpiece. “Ecstasy isn’t red.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” he found himself saying out loud before he could stop himself.
“What did you say, boy?” the beastly man next to him asked, looking a little more than pissed off. “Just take the stupid pill, then we can go get you some more dope to sniff.”
He wasn’t sure what he should do. He knew better than to take pills from someone he didn’t know, but if he didn’t take the pill, he was pretty sure that these guys were going to kick him out of the party and probably break a few of his fingers in the process.
Two other bouncers appeared in the wings, looking like they enjoyed eating puppies and souls for breakfast.
Shit, he better handle this now.
Hoping that he didn’t die instantly, he popped the pill into his mouth and then swallowed. He wondered how long it would be before he entered another state of consciousness and began questioning his very own existence in this plane of reality.
“There. He took it. Happy now?” his date barked at their host.
The host glanced between Diesel and Mr. Yellow before reaching into his suit jacket and handing the man a beige envelope.
His date peeked inside, then glanced up at the man. “Pleasure doing business. See you again next month.”
Again? Next month?
Diesel suddenly got a sinking feeling in his gut. What was going on here?
“Let’s go grab a drink,” Mr. Yellow barked before grabbing Diesel by the arm and yanking him into the dimly lit club.
They walked across the room and settled onto a rose-colored sofa with black trim and a small coffee table at their feet.
It appeared that they were in an underground lounge of sorts. It was probably rented by gangsters and rich dudes hosting sex parties and private events they didn’t want the general public to know about. The entrance they used was generic and undescriptive, giving nothing away about the happenings occurring just behind its doors.
“What do you see?” Zero’s voice whispered into Diesel’s ear.
How was he supposed to answer that question without raising suspicion or giving himself away?
“Wow, it’s pretty crowded in here. Do all the guys who come in here have to bring a date?” Diesel asked, looking around the room at all the men dancing or making out with their half-conscious dates.
This whole place gave off a very molesty kind of vibe.
“Yeah, everyone brings a date. Most are useless and end up getting turned out by the end of the night.”
“And the others?” Diesel asked. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer.
A waiter appeared out of nowhere, dropping off a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and two glasses.
“Is all this shit free?” Diesel asked, well aware that his “date” still hadn’t answered his questions.
“Shut up and drink,” Mr. Yellow ordered, pouring Diesel a glass and then passing it to him.
“Remind me to cut out this guy’s tongue and shove it up his ass,” Chase growled through the earpiece.
Diesel tried not to react to the joke. He lifted his flute and took a sip of his champagne.
Three tables over, Diesel spotted the doc checking on one of the dates that a gentleman had brought. The girl was passed out, hunched over the table, lying in a puddle of spilled champagne.
“Wow, this place is wild. Half these people look stoned out of their minds.” Diesel hoped the guys listening through his earpiece would put two and two together. “A few of them are even passed out.”
The doc motioned to a bouncer who retrieved the young woman and carried her through a door at the back of the club. The gentleman she was with downed the last of his drink, then headed to the entrance Diesel and his date had just used to enter the club.
What the fuck was going on?
Slowly, Diesel’s head began to feel funny—like he was sleepy and vibrating simultaneously. His palms began to sweat, and his vision began to blur.
“What’s… what’s… happ…” Diesel stood up, panicked, struggling to maintain his balance.
It was useless.
He fell to one knee, knocking over the bucket of ice in the process.
“Where do you think you’re going?” a raspy voice asked in his ear.
Diesel turned his head slightly, trying to identify the owner of the voice, but his head was getting fuzzy and tingly.
“Out… heading… fresh… Zero.” That was all he managed to get out before the world around him went black, and his body was suddenly swooped up from the floor beneath him.
Was he flying? Floating up to heaven to join all the other good little boys and girls?
His eyes felt so heavy. He needed some rest. Just a twenty-minute power nap… just enough to get him back on his feet.
The skin on his face felt cold, and a gentle breeze cut across his chest and arms.
His body was floating. Yes, he was floating down a long passageway on his way to see… What was he going to see?
“Stick him in the back with the others. Hurry, and grab the last one.”
That was the last thing that Diesel heard before his mind and body got swallowed by the cold, empty dark.