Diesel

by Tia Lewis

  “My bottom bitch? Who the hell taught you that one?”

  “It doesn’t matter. That’s all I am to you, isn’t it? Somebody to trust and confide in and cry your eyes out to when something bad’s happening, or somebody to fuck when you’re bored, and there’s an itch in your pants. Otherwise? You treat me like this.” I loved seeing the look on his face. Like I had totally pulled the rug out from under him. Good. He knew how it felt, then, the bastard.

  “You’re being a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

  “No, I don’t. You’ve been using me all this time, throughout this Gunner situation. No, since before then. For months. But you don’t give me anything—unless you think it’s a huge honor to sleep with you which, believe me, it’s not.”

  That hit him where it hurt. His face went red with anger. “I asked you to leave. Don’t make me make you leave.”

  “Oh, give me a break. Like you would ever do that. And if you did, like Drake wouldn’t kick your ass for it. He doesn’t go for that shit. But please, try. See what happens.” When he stood there, frozen, I laughed. “Yeah. I thought so. Just a scared little boy.” It felt so good to say hurtful things to him. It was like I finally had enough. I was bucket, full of all the times he had ignored me or turned his back on me. And I was starting to spill over.

  I left him standing there—if there weren’t kids sleeping in some of the rooms, I would’ve slammed the door right off the hinges. Only when I was alone in the hallway did I start shaking all over. My knees were weak; my heart raced out of control. I stumbled to my room in a daze.

  I had hurt him. I knew I had, even if he lied about it. I had seen it on his face. What was I thinking? I loved him. I didn’t want to cause him pain.

  But he had hurt me, and he didn’t love me back. He would never love me. I felt myself hardened the more I thought about it. He would never love me. He would never see me the way I saw him. I was only wasting my time and letting him break my heart again and again. I had to have a little more self-respect than that.

  The party downstairs had obviously wound down. I listened hard, but couldn’t hear any voices. Everybody must’ve gone to bed. I wished one of the girls was still up. I could have used somebody to talk to. I couldn’t even go anywhere. I couldn’t live my life because of Gunner and his stupidity. I wanted to go home, to my own bed, my own house. I wanted to stay under the covers for a week and just let things play out as they would. As long as I didn’t have to see Diesel when it was all happening, I’d be fine.

  That decided it for me. I was going home. Fuck him, fuck the club for that matter. I had my own life to live. Maybe it was time to start finding something else to love. I would never get anything out of the club. I wouldn’t even get love in return.

  I grabbed my purse and tiptoed down the hall, then down the stairs. It was dark down there, but there was light coming from under Drake’s door, down the hall. He and Nicole were probably still awake. Maybe they were talking about the baby. Maybe they were having sex. Either way, I envied them.

  I disabled the alarm at the door and opened it without a sound, then armed it again before going outside and closing it just as quietly. It was almost four-thirty by then. Practically dawn. And chilly, too. I shivered a little and went to my car. If anybody heard me pulling out of the lot, it would be too late for them to do anything about it. Let them try to make me stay. Nobody could make me stay under the same roof with Diesel, not after I knew what he really thought of me. The look on his face was burned into my brain. He was disgusted with me. And he never even came out to bring me back to his room—that told me he didn’t care enough to swallow his pride.

  I wiped a tear from my cheek as I reached the driver’s side and slid the key into the lock. Maybe I was too lost in my thoughts to notice the footsteps behind me. I didn’t hear them until it was too late. In the last moment, before something hit me in the back of the head and everything went black, I realized I’d made a big mistake.

  17

  Diesel

  When I woke up, the first thing I thought about was Violet. I had thought about her a lot before I fell asleep.

  I hoped she wasn’t too pissed because I wanted to tell her how wrong I was. It wasn’t her fault I was all fucked up over Gunner and the lockdown and everything else going on. She only ever tried to make things better. She only ever cared about me.

  I remembered how gentle she was with me when I got hurt. The memory was like a knife to my heart. I was such an asshole. How could she want to have anything to do with me when I was such an asshole? She deserved a good guy, somebody who would treat her the way she deserved. Not me. I didn’t have it in me to be that kind of man. Even though I would’ve given my right arm to have a woman like her—somebody who would always be by my side, no matter what. Somebody I wouldn’t have to explain myself to because she was already such a big part of my world. A woman I would trust with my secrets. I could already do that, and I gave her nothing for it. Nothing but nastiness.

  She was so right. I thought about it as I got dressed. It was convenient for her to be there, always there, whenever I needed her. But I didn’t give her anything real. I wasn’t there when she needed me, and that wasn’t fair.

  When I was dressed, I went out and knocked at the door to her room. “Vi?” I whispered. The other doors were closed. Everybody was still asleep—it had been a long night. “Vi? You up?” I tested the knob, and it turned easily. I opened the door.

  The bed was empty. It was made up, too. She must’ve woken up early if she slept at all. I went downstairs expecting to smell coffee and food.

  The kitchen was empty, too. I went back out to the bar and sat down. Harris came down and flopped on the couch. Tamara came downstairs less than a minute later with the baby on her hip.

  “Hey, Uncle Diesel!” She waved Christopher’s hand, and he laughed. I waved back and tried to smile. “What’s up?” she asked when she saw my face.

  “I don’t know. I was looking for Violet. I thought if her room were empty, she’d be up in and the kitchen by now.”

  Her smile faded. “She might have slept with someone else,” she whispered.

  “I guess you’re right.” I didn’t want her to be, but it was better than something being wrong. Who else would she sleep with? She couldn’t have. No way. She wasn’t the type. I knew her better than that. If she left me upset, she wouldn’t go to anybody else’s bed, even if she wanted revenge.

  Would she?

  Nicole came in through the back door. Her eyes were wide. Her face was chalk white. “Violet’s gone. I can’t find her anywhere. I was just looking around out back.”

  “What?” The barstool fell over behind me when I stood. “What are you saying? When’s the last time you saw her?”

  “I don’t know!” She held her head in her hands. “I think it was when you two were going upstairs.”

  “I’m gonna look, too.” Tamara put the baby in his high chair and went down to the cellar, calling Violet’s name. Harris looked in the kitchen, then in Drake’s old room, the bathroom, everywhere else on the first floor.

  Buzz had just come halfway down the stairs but went back up to look. I heard his heavy footsteps, doors opening, and closing. Finally, he came back down. “She’s not in any of the rooms,” he said. Tamara came back up shaking her head. Harris shook his, too.

  My whole body went cold. Oh, God, no. “She left. She must have left.”

  “Why would she?” She stared at me. “Why would she do that?”

  “Because we fought. Well, she was pissed at me. Either way, she probably left because she wanted to get away from me. It’s a long story.” I felt like the world had stopped spinning.

  “How long ago was that?” Tamara asked.

  “Around four this morning? I guess? I fell asleep after that.” I was asleep when she left. I would never fucking forgive myself if anything happened to her.

  “Okay, okay. Just because she left doesn’t mean anything bad happened to her.” N
icole pulled out her phone. “She hasn’t answered yet, but maybe she’s home, sleeping.” She waited, tapping her foot. We all watched. Her face fell when voicemail picked up. “Honey, it’s me again. Please call me back the second you get this.” When she hung up, there were tears in her eyes.

  “We still don’t know she’s in trouble,” I reminded her. “We don’t know that.”

  “What should we do?”

  Drake came out of the office. “What’s going on?”

  “Violet’s not here,” Tamara said. She shot me a dirty look.

  “Not here?” He looked at all of us. “Okay. Well, we just have to find her. I’m sure she’s okay.”

  “You’re not sure of that,” Nicole said. She was sobbing by then. “They took her. I know they did. It’s been hours. I know her. If she got home okay, she would’ve at least called to say she did and that we shouldn’t worry about her.” She went to Drake and pressed her face to his shoulder. He held her but stared at me.

  “What do we do?” I asked. “I’ll go out and look right now.”

  “No. Stay here.” He looked around at all of us. “We are all staying here. All of us.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Nicole wept. “Not when she’s out there somewhere.”

  “If anybody has her, they’ll let us know. There has to be a reason for this, you know? They want something from us. They’ll tell us what that something is. I’m sure of it. Come on, sit down.” He sat her on the couch, and I remembered what Violet told me about her being pregnant. Did Drake know?

  “You shouldn’t let yourself get so upset,” I said. She shot me a look, but Drake didn’t catch on. So he didn’t know—otherwise, he would’ve agreed with me and told her to think about the baby. But he was a million miles away, planning what to do.

  All she did was a nod. Then she changed the subject. “She didn’t call you, did she?”

  “No.” My phone was empty. No calls, no texts.

  “Should we call Tommy?” she asked Drake.

  “Maybe. Let’s give it another hour.” He checked the time. “It’s nine o’clock. If nobody calls by ten to say they have her, we’ll call Tommy’s office.”

  “Meanwhile, I’m gonna call the hospitals and give them her description. You never know, she might’ve been in an accident. It won’t hurt to check.” Tamara got on the phone.

  The room was starting to fill up. I almost forgot we were all there—club members, old ladies, kids. All of them were asking questions. Finally, Drake stood up.

  “Let’s just get ourselves something to eat, huh? Anybody who wants to help in the kitchen, I’d appreciate it.” I couldn’t help but think that it would be Violet doing the cooking if she were there. She would’ve already had breakfast set out, and we would all be joking even though we were under lockdown. She had that way of making even bad situations seem good.

  I waited with Drake in his office. Tamara was still behind the bar, making calls. I heard her describing Violet over and over. Five foot, long blonde hair, blue eyes. Nobody had anybody by her name or a Jane Doe who fit the description. If anything happened to her, I would never forgive myself. I knew she left because of what I said. If I had just been a little nicer, a little more human, she wouldn’t have gone. She knew better than that. I must’ve really hurt her to get her to go. It was all my fault. I sank back against the couch and counted the minutes, just waiting until somebody called or we could call somebody. I wasn’t usually one to sit still and wait for things to happen, but Drake’s word was law around there. I couldn’t go against him.

  It was almost ten when the phone rang. I jumped up, but Drake got it before I could reach it. “Yes?” He looked up at me. “Right. Okay. I’ll wait for your call back.”

  He hung up slowly. “That was one of Eagle’s guys.”

  “And?” I knew what he was about to say and just waited for him to say it.

  “They have her. They said they’d call back later on with instructions.” He fell back into his chair and buried his head in his hands. I stood there, staring at the wall. I felt like somebody had just dunked me in ice water.

  Tamara was standing in the doorway. She must’ve come in when she heard the phone ring. The sound of her weeping behind me was like an accusation. She was accusing me. And she was right. If Violet died, it would be in my head.

  18

  Violet

  I woke up slowly, and little by little my body woke up with me.

  First, my feet. I tried wiggling them to see if they would move. They wouldn’t, not much more an inch. Maybe less. They felt a little numb, too, like they had been in the same position for a long time.

  It was the same thing with my hands. I couldn’t move them. I realized, slowly, that they were bound together behind me. My feet were also bound. My arms screamed in protest when I tried to move them. I cried out; only there was something in front of my mouth. It muffled the sound. A gag?

  I was sitting up—a hard surface wasn’t doing my butt any favors. It was achy, like the rest of me. How long had I been sitting there?

  Why couldn’t I think straight? It felt like I was in a fog. Nothing seemed right; nothing made sense. I thought back, but all I could remember was leaving the clubhouse. Then it went black. I hadn’t gotten far, had I? How long ago was that?

  Where was I?

  I tried to open my eyes, but they were covered, too. I was blindfolded. It hit me—or, rather, something had hit me. Or somebody. When I left the clubhouse, somebody hit me with something and knocked me out. I barely remembered registering the pain. When I moved my head, the pain in the back of it was enough to make the world gray out for a second. I stayed still to keep from passing out, not that it mattered if I did or not. I wasn’t going anywhere just then.

  “She’s awake.” I jumped when I heard the voice—I had thought I was alone. I held my breath and heard somebody else breathing, but the sound of blood rushing in my ears drowned it out.

  “Relax.” It was a man talking. I listened hard, trying to keep panic from overwhelming me. I wanted to scream, to beg, but the gag over my mouth kept me quiet. The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor got my attention next. “I already told all my guys they’re not allowed to touch you, so don’t worry about that. We need to keep you in one piece if we’re gonna use you as a bargaining chip.”

  A bargaining chip? Terror raced through me. They were going to use me to negotiate something with Drake. So I knew who was talking to me, anyway. It had to be Eagle, leader of the Devil’s Den. My skin crawled just thinking about him. I had heard horror stories of what his club was willing to do to people. I remembered the way Diesel had bled after his run-in with them, too.

  “I gotta say,” he continued, “you’re a cutie. It won’t be easy, telling the guys to keep their hands off. But it’s okay. They won’t have to wait for long.” My stomach churned. No way. I would rather die than let any of those pigs touch me.

  “Of course,” he chuckled, “I didn’t want you. I wanted Drake’s wife. She’s the Queen, isn’t she? The ultimate weapon. But she wasn’t the one who came walking out of the clubhouse last night. That was you. Well, sometimes we have to make opportunities for ourselves when they show up. Right?”

  I remembered it all. How could I have been so stupid? I was never a stupid person—not stupid enough to walk out during a lockdown. I knew better than that. But Diesel had made me so angry. He would never know how much he’d hurt me, either. Not if I didn’t make it out of there. Would he even care when he realized I was gone?

  I was becoming more aware of what was around me. It smelled horrible, for one thing. Like a trash dump. It made sense—they were a bunch of pigs, weren’t they? I wished I could breathe through my mouth instead of through my nose. I moaned a little.

  “What’s that? You have something to say?” I moaned again. Yes, please, take off this gag. I’ll throw up if I have to breathe through my nose for much longer. “Hmm. Okay. I guess I can make that happen.”

  I fe
lt fingers behind my head, working on something. The thought that any of them were touching me made my stomach churn again, but I did what I could to focus on staying alive and as comfortable as I could. Throwing up all over the place wouldn’t make anybody happy, and I would just have to sit there in it. Well, maybe it would keep the other guys off me. Even they had to have standards.

  When the gag dropped, I opened my mouth. My face was stiff. Everything was stiff. “Water, please,” I croaked. “I’m so thirsty.”

  “Later.” I heard him drop into the chair in front of me. “Now you can tell me what I wanna know.”

  “What? What do you want?” My throat was dry, scratchy. It was an effort just to whisper.

  “I wanna know what the club is planning on doing. What Drake is planning on doing. How are they gonna get back at us?”

  I shook my head—slowly, gently. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, but I don’t. They don’t tell me anything.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s the truth! They sit in Drake’s office and talk about things, but they don’t tell the girls. We’re not allowed to know those things. Ask anybody.”

  “So I should’ve waited until I could get my hands on the old lady. I knew it!” He must’ve kicked the chair across the room when he stood. I heard it smash against the wall. I cringed like an animal waiting to see if its owner would hit it.

  Focus on something. I had to get myself under control. I couldn’t let panic take over. He would win if I did that. I couldn’t let him win. I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Then I took another and another. After a little while, my pulse slowed down and I could think clearly again.

  “You all better now?” he asked. His voice dripped sarcasm.

  “When are you going to let me go, now that you know I have nothing for you?”

  Silence. Then laughter. “You think I’m gonna let you go just because you don’t know anything? Damn, girl. How long have you been around?” He traced my cheek with his fingertips. I flinched away, so he took me by the back of my neck and held me still while he did it again. Tears leaked out from underneath my blindfold. I was glad I didn’t have to see him. It would’ve only made things worse.