Diesel

by Vivian Gray

  Chapter Twelve

  Diesel

  I’m the last person in the world Knux wants to see. I can tell that by the way he opens his office door to me – slowly, with white-knuckled fingers wrapped around the crumbling wooden frame.

  “What the fuck do you want?” he demands without missing a beat. “I hear you didn’t show up for your shift this morning?”

  “I showed up,” I respond nonchalantly. “I left when I got some information.”

  “The fuck kind of information?” he snarls out. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, don’t tell me you’re still looking for Tyler, Diesel. The kid’s dead. I saw him buried myself. And I threw his ass down a pauper’s grave outside the city limits.”

  “I know he’s dead, Knux. The information I got was on who killed him.”

  Knux pauses midway into sitting in his office hair. The leather squeaks as his weight shifts awkwardly from side to side. His mustached lip twitches as he asks, “Yeah? And what of it? I thought we agreed – it was those goddamn Red Roses playing a double-cross.”

  “Yep, that’s what I’ve been running on,” I say, doing my best to contain my loathing of this smarmy, lying asshole, “but then I heard from a witness that Tyler never left Ken’s shop the night he was found dead. So I went to Ken’s place, and boy does that son of a bitch squeal when he thinks he’s about to be done in.”

  Knux leans into his desk, doubtlessly pulling the same move Ken did when he smelled trouble. I can practically see his fingers rustle around for the gun strapped to the bottom of the drawer.

  I know I don’t have even a split second to waste before he makes his move, so I come out with it. “You wanna tell me why you had Tyler killed despite him paying his debt off?” I demand. “What the hell did he have on you that got you so goddamn scared?”

  Knux removes his gnarled hand from the desk and leans back in the chair with his hands placed behind his greasy head. He sighs. “What did you do to Ken when he told you it was him?”

  “I had a momentary lapse of pity and left him with a way out – though I didn’t stick around to see if he could figure out how to save his own tubby ass. An old running car with a burnt-out exhaust system isn’t a great thing to play around with in a closed up shop.”

  “Well hot damn!” Knux exclaims, breaking out into the most sarcastic smile I’ve ever seen. “I have got to give you credit, Diesel. Honest to God, man, I didn’t think you’d have it in you. I mean, I figured you’d find out eventually, but I didn’t think you’d do what it would take. For whatever reason you got, you’ve been hell-bent on finding Tyler, and I knew it wouldn’t stop when we tried to make you believe he was knocked off by the Roses.”

  “So then why?” I demand again, my fists balled and my knuckles turning white in rage. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Why did you do it in the first place? He was no threat to you. We don’t even know if he really stole the money to begin with or if he had connections to the Roses. You have no proof.”

  “Oh come on, Diesel. Of course he had connections to the Roses. Don’t be fucking naive. That little idiot was trying to boost up a rival, and he got caught. That’s all there is to it. And take it from me, once you get a taste of power, you sure as hell don’t give it up that easily. He would have come back, and this time it would have been with more information to use against us.”

  “And me?” I ask, seething. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you’ve gone fucking soft, boy!” He practically spits at me. “For the last few months, I’ve been able to tell you were losing your edge. I don’t know what did it. Tyler must have done something to you, or maybe you’ve just been getting lazy. But whatever it is, I don’t fucking recognize the sorry sack of shit in front of me, and you’re not the fucking Diesel we’re used to around here. Only lately have you been performing at peak. You got a reason for that?”

  I’ve got a million reasons that all begin with “Blanche’s (blank)” but I don’t dare tell him anything even resembling that. Bringing her back to his attention would only set the problem on fire. So I stick with the easiest way out of this – denial.

  “Fuck you, Knux,” I snap. “I haven’t gone soft. Not even a little. I’ve had some shit on my mind, and so far as I know, that isn’t any kind of crime. But I haven’t been slacking off or any shit like that. I came to work, I did my fucking job, and I made this club better than ever. And you choose to repay me by lying to my goddamn face every day I come in? That’s some bullshit right there, Knux. And you fucking know better.”

  I know I’ve crossed a line as soon as I said my last sentence. Knux erupts, slamming his fist on the top of his wooden desk. His voice tears through me as he screams, “You know what you are, Diesel? You’re a fucking snake in the grass. You hide out, doing the bare fucking minimum, making your way to the top. And then, when you’ve got the advantage and everyone looking the other direction, you fucking strike. But I’m not about to let you take anything from me. Do you hear me? I’m in charge here. I’M IN FUCKING CHARGE, YOU LAZY, STUPID SON OF A BITCH!”

  Woah. I have never once in my entire career with the Bonebags thought about taking over from Knux. It never crossed my mind even in my wildest dreams. This man is more dangerous than I thought. Not only is he fucking sadistic, but he’s batshit paranoid crazy to boot. My stomach turns as I try to ease the situation – and his temper.

  “Woah, Knux,” I tell him, “Chill. No one wants to try starting a coup here. I’ve never once said that or even mentioned it offhand. No one’s brought it up to me either. Whoever is feeding this shit to you is playing you for an idiot.”

  “You know what you’ve never done for me, Diesel?” he growls out as if I hadn’t said anything. “You’ve never shown your loyalty. Not once. But maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I haven’t tested you enough. Call me a fucking fool for not thinking of this sooner.” With one swoop he reaches under his desk and pulls out his gun. “I know you’ve got your own, but I want it done with my own bullets.”

  “What done?” I ask, tentatively.

  “Tyler.”

  The name falls on me like a ton of bricks, and I would burst out laughing if the situation weren’t so grave. “Tyler?” I ask in complete confusion.

  “Tyler,” he repeats simply.

  “But…” This doesn’t make any sense. I know the kid’s gone; I saw pictures of the body myself. “Knux, what the fuck? The kid’s dead and buried. You said so yourself.”

  Knux laughs, his head cocked back. “Oh, you…” He giggles almost like a giddy little virginal schoolgirl. “You think that was him? Jesus, you’re a shitty detective, Diesel. That boy was with the Red Roses. Son of the president, actually. I only made Ken think it was Tyler to give him a better reason to go through with it. If he had known who he was killing, he would have chickened out or struck a deal with the Roses MC or some other turncoat bullshit. You were right about one thing – Ken’s a little maggot like that. No, he had to think it was someone disposable like Tyler.”

  “But that body looked so much—”

  “Like him? Yeah – only a coincidence that they somewhat look like one another. And a month in the trash and water really makes a mess out of a body. We slapped the jacket on the president’s son, trashed the bike, and staged the damn thing.”

  “Then where the hell is Tyler?!” I shout, though part of me already knows the answer before it comes out of Knux’s damned mouth.

  “Illinois. Milford. My boys tracked him down to his family’s home.”

  “I’m not going out of our territory to kill the kid. He escaped. The debts were paid. Let the kid go.”

  “That’s not how this works, Diesel. He’s in too deep, and now so are you. He needs to be exterminated, and you need to prove you’re willing to take commands.” The gun slides across the desk, landing just at the end. “Take my gun. You’ve got five days to get it done, or you’ll be next on my list.”

  “What about his family?” I ask, regretting my decision to brin
g them up at all.

  “Dispose of them. No witnesses.” He pauses before smiling even wider. “I’m including the girl in that too. Make sure she won’t be talking.”

  ***

  “Oh yes, son. I do know the Tyler kid. Our families go way back. Why you asking?” The older man dressed in long, grease-stained overall stares at me as if I’m kryptonite about to explode all over his field.

  I throw my leather jacket around my shoulder as I try to nonchalantly explain, “I know his sister, Blanche. I’ve been looking for her for about a week now, and I haven’t had any luck getting a hold of her. Could you point me to where I could find the family?”

  The man looks out and up towards a line of houses in the distance, his hand placed on his forehead to shield the sun. I try to follow his eyes, but he’s much more quick-witted than I give him credit.

  He shakes his head sternly as he replies, “No. I don’t think I can do that. If you know her, I assume you got her phone number. You could give her a call, and she can tell you where she’s living these days.”

  “Look, sir, I’m not trying to hurt her. I’m not out for revenge or anything. I don’t want to say anything if she hasn’t announced it herself, but she’s carrying my baby. Maybe you’re a father – I don’t know. But she didn’t give me a chance to be one, and I want to try and convince her to let me back in. Can you understand that?”

  “Where you from, son?” he asks me suddenly, his tone changing ever so slightly.

  “California. I met her while she was looking for Tyler. Tyler was my roommate for a short while.”

  His eyes squint in the sun as he nods down towards me. “Around these parts, we don’t shirk our obligations to our families.”

  “I know that, sir. And I’m not about to let anyone stop me from helping that girl raise her, I mean our, baby. Can you please help me and tell me where her family home is?”

  The man mutters to himself and then points to the small group of white houses glittering among the gold and green fields. “I can’t tell you where the girl is, exactly. I know she had an apartment in town by the hospital where she worked. And Tyler, well, you know that story isn’t exactly clean. But the Henderson’s have a home in that neighborhood. Third house on the right with the big red door. You might be able to find her there. I’ve seen her coming and going in the last few days. If not, her parents will help you out, if they’re so obliged.”

  I grab my helmet from the back of my bike and thank the man for his help. I won’t lie that it feels like fucking shit to put blood on his hands like this. He has no idea that I’m here to inflict pain, to take a man’s life and possibly that of his family’s. It’s unfair that he had to get involved at all.

  I have spent the last three days on the drive from California praying that I would never find this town or their homes and that men like him would shut doors in my face and chase me out of town. I would thank them kindly and be on my way, off towards almost certain death. I could hold off Knux’s goons and club connections for as long as I could. The money could get me far, maybe even overseas where he’s less likely to know someone who could do the job. But that would still leave Blanche vulnerable.

  If it’s not me taking out Tyler, there will be at least five other guys lined up to prove their allegiance. That’s how it fucking works when you’ve got a madman at the helm. And I can’t guarantee that Blanche and her parents would get a clean escape or a fair warning to run. It would be a day like today with the sun shining and the birds singing. They would never suspect a thing until it was happening.

  If I do it, I suppose, I could at least get her out. I could say I never saw her or her mom and dad. I could send her away, far away, and lead the Bonebags to believe she was still somewhere in California. This would mean killing Tyler in cold-blood, but at least I could save Blanche’s life. And the baby’s. I could keep both of them safe for as long as I could. That had to justify murdering her brother. Two lives for one. Tyler would tell me to do it – if he could.

  This plan has been running through my head like wheels spinning on the black pavement. It’s melted and molded into the cracks and curves of my mind until it’s been all I can think about. But now that I am here, staring down that red door, nothing about it seems right or justified.

  I take my bike and hide it in the fields. Hours pass and nothing moves from within the home. It’s not until it grows dark that the lights turn on and figures appear from behind the pulled back curtains. I recognize Tyler’s form almost immediately. The stick-thin skeleton of a man peers out the window from time to time like only a man who knows he’s being hunted would.

  At one point, I think he spots me among the long prairie scene, but he does nothing. The curtains pull back, and I watch as his shadow sits at a table while another figure emerges. This one is equally thin, but she carries her weight different. Her round stomach slightly bulges at her belly, and she occasionally stands and rubs circles with her hands around it. Her head dips low as if she would kiss it if she could – the perfect symbol of motherhood.

  My breath is lost watching her go about her night. She cooks and does dishes. She walks towards a bedroom and folds clothes. She leans over what looks like a miniature crib next to her bedside. She leans against the back of her bed and holds a book up to her face.

  And as the hours’ pass, she sinks further and further into the sheets. The top of her head disappears behind the headboard, and the light turns out along with the bedroom next to her. It’s time. There’s no other way. I have to do this. I have to kill Tyler, save Blanche and her baby, and get the hell out of dodge before Knux comes looking.

  This is the price I pay for my life, and it all ends here.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Blanche

  I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I CAN’T BREATHE!

  My eyes dart open. It’s pitch-black but only because of the shadow standing above me, straddling my legs. I try to scream for Tyler, but the hand on my mouth clamps down. I’m pressed so firmly into my small bed that I think I’m about to push right through. My eyes dart to the bassinet my mom set up the morning before she left with my dad for a quick vacation.

  The rest of the room is empty, a shell of what it was when I grew up here.

  “Shhh!” a voice commands. “Don’t say a damn word.”

  My eyes focus again at the man’s voice. It’s almost as if every sense in my body prickles to attention. I smell his cologne, his skin, and feel his hips press against mine. I just can’t make out the face. But then, in one moment of recognition, it comes to me.

  “Diesel!” I cry out from under his grip. “Let me go! Let me go!”

  “Blanche, shut up,” he whispers more urgently. “I’m not here to hurt you; I’m here to help you.”

  “No! No!” I struggle, remembering Tyler’s warning on my first day here.

  Diesel may be a good guy, the only one in his club worth a damn, but he can’t be trusted. None of them can be. The Bonebags are out there looking for Tyler. He said so himself. And who knows if they’ve sent the best and most knowledgeable man to do the job.

  “Stop it. Stop moving!” He grows more frustrated with me not relenting to him.

  Not this time. I am going to stand my damn ground and protect my family. I’m not the meek and meager girl he could seduce to do his will. He’s in my territory now, and I fight back.

  When he presses down against my lips, my teeth latch on, and I don’t let go until he’s yelping in pain. With him holding his bloodied hand, I am able to slip out from under him. It’s a damned miracle I can move fast enough to avoid him grabbing me, but I throw open the door and race down the hallway to Tyler’s room.

  “Tyler!” I shout as I bang on the door. “He’s here! He’s here! Dammit! Where are you?”

  On the other side of the door, my brother screams, “Get down, Blanche!”

  My body slams to the ground as a bang rips through the wood of the door and towards the opposite side of the home. Diesel
shouts, and I have just enough time to get back on my feet before he comes barreling after us, gun pointed straight at the gaping hole in Tyler’s door.

  “Put the gun down! Put the goddamned thing down now, Tyler!” One of his arms dangles by his side, limp. As he walks further into the light of the hallway, I see a tiny river of blood trickle down his thumb.

  “No!” I scream, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Don’t you fucking dare, Diesel! That’s my brother!”

  I grab the only thing I can reach, a potted plant my mom has kept for at least fifteen years, and with one heavy oomph, toss it square at his chest. It lands on his injured arm, throwing him to the side of the hallway. He growls as he is taken by surprise.

  As Diesel stumbles, Tyler comes running through his bedroom door and towards me. He hands me the warm gun as we speed through the house. “Take it!”