Sergeant at Arms: Devil's Henchmen MC, Book Three

by Samantha McCoy

  After a minute, Diesel’s words finally registered in Rachel’s head. “Sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

  “Don’t be,” he told her. “You can stare all you want. It makes my baloney pony happy.”

  “Baloney pony?” she giggled.

  “Yeah. Baloney pony. Beaver basher. Deep-V diver. Lap rocket.” he explained. “You know, my dick.”

  Rachel couldn’t help it; she couldn’t hold it together anymore. A laugh burst from her lips, again causing her to moan in pain.

  “Don’t make me laugh,” she begged.

  “I wasn’t trying to. What’s so funny?” Diesel looked genuinely confused.

  “Seriously?” Rachel asked. “How many names do you have for penis?”

  Diesel looked thoughtful for a brief moment, before turning his dark gaze towards Rachel. She loved the chocolate color of his eyes. There was something soothing about it.

  “A hundred and seventy, give or take a few.”

  “You’re kidding?” she asked. Surely he did not have that many names for a penis. Who in the world sat around thinking of that many names for a male organ?

  “Nope. Completely serious. Want to hear them?” Diesel offered.

  “No,” Rachel giggled.

  “Suit yourself. Your loss.” Diesel said, stretching from his current position.

  Rachel felt her mouth go dry. Literally, a desert had formed on her tongue. How can anyone be that hot, she wondered? Clearing her throat, she turned to look out the window.

  “Are you hungry?” Diesel asked.

  “A little,” she admitted. “But I don’t know if I can handle anything on my stomach right now.”

  “Why not?” Diesel asked, suddenly worry filled his eyes.

  “I have a horrible headache. It’s kind of making me nauseated.”

  “I’ll call Ginx and see what I can give you, but maybe I’ll just get you some dry toast. Nothing too heavy for your tummy.” Diesel stood from the chair and started walking towards the door.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Rachel called.

  Stopping, Diesel turned to face her. “No.”

  “A shirt? Shoes?” Rachel inquired.

  “No need. People here have seen me in less,” he retorted. “Be right back.”

  Alone in Diesel’s room, Rachel took a minute to look around. It was a major contrast to her room. His was spacious, where hers was rather small. She wouldn’t complain though. The Henchmen took her in without knowing anything about her. Sledge gave her a home and safety. Or at least that’s how it was before last night. Now, that feeling was shattered.

  Rachel felt a single tear slip down her cheek. She would have to leave. There was no way she could stay here. He would be back. She felt so stupid. How could she have thought that she had finally found peace? Mentally berating herself, more tears fell.

  She needed to call the investigator. She needed to find out why she wasn’t warned. She needed... Honestly, Rachel had no clue what she needed anymore. Right now, she felt like the walls were closing in on her.

  Rachel was having a hard time catching her breath. Her heart rate started to increase. She could feel it trying to beat out of her chest. Panic gripped her, refusing to let go. In, out, in, out - the breaths continued to increase. The tears started falling rapidly. Rachel was in full panic attack mode.

  Trying to find something to focus on, she frantically looked around the room. Her eyes landed on a photograph across the room. It was Diesel dressed in military gear. Rachel zeroed in on it. She wished it was closer so she could differentiate the details, but it would have to do. She had to calm herself before Diesel came back. She would die from embarrassment if he caught her like this.

  Forcing her breathing to slow, she stared at that one picture like it was her lifeline. Rachel willed her heart to follow. Slowly, both began to even out just as the bedroom door started to open.

  “I brought you dry toast, OJ, and Ginx said to give you some Tylenol. No aspirin though.” Diesel said as he carried a tray of food to her and set it on the bed.

  She tried to get her mouth to form the words ‘thank you’ but they wouldn’t come out. She was still feeling the effects of her latest panic attack. She never used to have these, not until the night that changed her life forever. Now, it seemed they came all the time. It was part of the reason she stayed to herself, away from everyone else in the clubhouse.

  “Are you okay?” Rachel could hear the concern in Diesel’s voices.

  Still unable to speak, she nodded her head. But for whatever reason, Diesel didn’t believe her. She could read it easily in his facial expression.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “What happened?”

  Rachel watched as Diesel looked around the room, searching for a threat. But he wouldn’t find any because right now the only threat to Rachel, was in her head.

  “It’s nothing,” she squeaked out.

  “Nothing?” he asked, unconvinced. “So this ‘nothing’ has you as pale as a ghost, with tears drying on your face?”

  Reaching up, Rachel wiped the dampness from her cheeks.

  “Rachel, please. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” Rachel wanted to tell him. She did, but there was no point. Diesel couldn’t protect her. Nobody could, not anymore.

  Chapter Three

  Diesel

  Walking into the room, Diesel could immediately tell something was wrong. Rachel was white as a ghost, a total contrast to the black sheets and comforter that covered his bed. Looking around the room, he found nothing that should have made her feel any type of discomfort. Concern filled his gut. But unless she would open up to him, he had no way to fix the problem.

  Diesel eased onto the bed next to her. Her eyes were still rimmed with tears. She looked as if she were ready to bolt at any moment. The last thing he wanted was to scare her even more.

  “Rachel, look at me.” He needed to get her attention. To have her focus on him instead of whatever was in her head.

  “Rachel,” he repeated.

  “What?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Why don’t you eat some of your toast?” he suggested. “And while you do that, we can talk a bit. I just realized that you and I have never really talked before.”

  “That’s because you’re a man-whore.” Horrified, Rachel covered her mouth. “I am so sorry.”

  Diesel had no idea why she was apologizing, but he was thankful the distraction of conversation was working - her color was returning to normal.

  “Why are you sorry?” he asked.

  “Because I called you a name,” Rachel said.

  “And?” Diesel didn’t get it. “So what? That’s not a reason to be sorry. You didn’t say anything that isn’t true.”

  “Calling people names isn’t nice,” Rachel replied.

  “It depends on the name,” Diesel said with a grin.

  “I guess,” Rachel mumbled.

  “Eat. Then we’ll talk.” Diesel hoped once she had something in her stomach, she would start to feel better.

  “Oh, Ginx told me to give you these,” he said, placing two Tylenol in Rachel’s hand.

  “Thank you,” Rachel said, as she took the pills and swallowed them down with the OJ he had brought her.

  Diesel watched as Rachel slowly ate the breakfast he brought her - first the toast, then the grapes, and finally, she finished off the remainder of the orange juice.

  Diesel had never witnessed someone eat the way Rachel did. So delicate. So sexy. Sexy? Where the hell did that come from? he wondered. And how the hell could eating be considered sexy? Obviously, he needed to get laid. Diesel felt like his mind was playing tricks on him. Maybe the lack of sex was finally catching up to him.

  With a heavy sigh, he turned his attention back to Rachel. “Can you tell me what happened last night?”

  Rachel’s back suddenly stiffened. “No.” she stated matter of factly.

  “No?” Diesel inquired. “You don’t remember anything
?” Concern filled him. Maybe she needed to go to the hospital after all.

  “I remember everything just fine,” she told him. “But I can’t tell you what happened.”

  “What?” Diesel was confused. “Why can’t you tell me? Did the person who did this threaten you?”

  Rachel let out her own heavy sign, and turned her face toward Diesel’s. A sad smile marred its beauty. Diesel wished he could wipe it from her face, but unless she told him who had hurt her, there was nothing he could do.

  “Rachel, please,” he tried again. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what happened and who did it.”

  “That’s just it, Diesel. You can’t help me, even if you knew that information. Apparently, nobody can.”

  “That’s bullshit!” Diesel’s voice raised.

  He didn’t mean to get upset, but her comment raised his hackles. There wasn’t a force on the planet that could stand against the Henchmen, in his opinion. And her comment was basically a slap in the face.

  “Is it?” Rachel asked, her own temper flaring. “If the police couldn’t protect me, how in the world will you?”

  Diesel looked at her. Really looked. Police? he thought. “When did you have involvement with the police? And why didn’t any of us know this?” he voiced.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Like hell it doesn’t,” Diesel responded. “When, Rachel?”

  “Don’t worry about it. It does not concern you, Diesel.”

  Diesel was shocked. Completely blown away. As the Sergeant at Arms for the club, his job was to police members. He controlled the inside, Reaper handled the outside. How could Rachel’s problem not concern him?

  “Excuse me? You live here. It concerns me,” he retorted.

  “Then maybe I shouldn’t live here.” Rachel said quietly.

  Diesel could tell she was shutting down. Whatever happened last night scared her, but he had a feeling that if he kept pushing, she would shut down completely; and even worse - she would leave. Once she did that, there would be no way for him to get to the bottom of things, and he definitely wouldn’t be able to keep her safe.

  “Fine. I’ll drop it for now, but eventually you’ll have to tell me what happened,” he conceded.

  “Doubtful,” Rachel responded.

  “I don’t understand. Why won’t you let me help you?” Diesel pleaded.

  “You can’t help me, Diesel!” Rachel voices raised. “There is nobody who can help me.”

  “You don’t know that. My job is to keep order here.”

  “And I messed that up, right?”

  “No. Do not put words in my mouth, little girl,” Diesel voice held a heavy dose of irritation.

  This woman was going to kill him! he thought to himself. Diesel wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss her or throttle her. Maybe a little of both? Why did she have to be so stubborn!

  “Look, I appreciate you trying to help me. But really Diesel, there is nothing you can do.” Rachel said, throwing the covers off of her legs.

  “Where are my clothes?” she asked.

  “Ginx took them. There was blood on them. She dressed you in my shirt after she got you cleaned.” Diesel explained.

  “Okay,” Rachel sighed.

  “Where are you going?” Diesel asked, when Rachel started to climb out of his bed.

  “To my room,” she answered like it was obvious.

  “Why?”

  “Because, it’s mine.” Rachel said, as she walked towards the door.

  Diesel stood to follow, “You don’t have to leave. I’m sure you will be more comfortable in here.”

  “Actually, right now I need to be alone.”

  “But Ginx said you probably have a concussion. Someone has to be with you for a full twenty-four hours.” Diesel knew if she was alone, she would over-think and do something drastic. He didn’t know Rachel well, but he was good at reading people.

  “I’ll be okay. And, if it makes you feel better, you can come check on me in an hour or so.” Rachel said, as she opened the door and walked out.

  Diesel stepped through the threshold to follow, but Rachel placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “Please, Diesel. I just need to be by myself.”

  “Fine. One hour.” He agreed, but he didn’t like it.

  Diesel stood in the hallway watching Rachel disappear down the hallway. He needed to find out what happened. Turning to make his way out of the house, he headed across the lot to the clubhouse. Maybe Sledge had found something last night when he watched the surveillance videos.

  Pushing the door open, Diesel was assaulted with the smell of booze and cigarette smoke. He would never get used to those smells. The mixture made his stomach roll. The bar was nearly empty. The majority of the members were probably still asleep.

  Making his way up the stairs, he headed for Sledge’s office. Walking down the hall, he could see a light shining from beneath Sledge’s door.

  After a quick knock, he heard his President’s deep baritone, “Come in.”

  “Hey, man,” he said as he walked in. “Find anything?”

  “Yeah. Actually, I found a lot,” Sledge said. “I was going to call you up here later. But since you’re here now, come see this shit.”

  Diesel walked around the desk and looked at the nine square images on the screen. Each image was a different camera that pointed around the back yard where Rachel’s assault happened. On the screen, Diesel could see a stilled image of Rachel sitting on the patio.

  “I have watched every second of each of these,” Sledge explained. “I’m going to warn you, it’s hard to watch.”

  “Play it.” Diesel said.

  Sledge reached for the mouse and clicked the play arrow on the first square. Diesel watched as Rachel sat quietly in the evening sun. “What is she looking at?” he asked.

  “Looks like some type of advertisement maybe,” Sledge replied.

  Quietly and totally wrapped up in what she was doing, Diesel watched as she flipped through the stack of material in her hands. An hour into the video and a shadowed figure crept towards the porch.

  “This is where it gets bad,” Sledge warned.

  “How bad?” Diesel asked.

  “Pretty violent,” Sledge admitted.

  The shadow emerged from the darkness and stepped right up to Rachel. He struck with a fast hand, and yanked her up from her seat by her hair. Diesel felt his entire body go rigid.

  “What the fuck,” he whispered, completely entranced in the scene before him.

  The man holding Rachel yanked her close to him. “Shit!” Diesel spat. “No fuckin’ audio.”

  “I know. I wish I knew what he said to her.” Sledge confessed.

  “Rachel won’t say a word. I tried.” Diesel replayed.

  “We can’t protect her if we don’t know what exactly we are up against.” Sledge explained.

  “I explained that. She apparently thinks we can’t protect her at all.” Diesel said.

  “Really?” Sledge asked, shock clear in his tone.

  “Yep.” Diesel retorted.

  Diesel continued to watch the videos play. Scene after scene, he witnessed the abuse Rachel suffered. All the while, a group of the badass military bikers were on the other side of a wall. Fifteen feet away. Diesel continued to watch until the moment the door opened and he saw himself step onto the patio.

  Blowing out a shaky breath, Diesel ran a hand over the top of his head. “I have to get her to open up to me.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” Sledge offered.

  “Viper brought her here. He has to know something about her past.” Diesel suggested.

  “Maybe. I would rather get the information from her, though.” Sledge said.

  “Don’t expect much. She has her lips zipped up tighter than spandex on a three-hundred-pound woman.” Diesel offered.

  “Ugh! Thanks for the visual, asshole!” Sledge retorted as he stood from his chair and made his way to the door.

  Cha
pter Four

  Rachel

  Walking into her room, Rachel looked around. It wasn’t much, but for the last two years, it had been home. She came to live with the Devil’s Henchmen when she was just seventeen. It was hard to believe that it was all now over. No more safety. No more protection. No more family. She had to leave.

  Rachel sat on the edge of her bed and pulled her pillow close to her chest. She had no idea where she would go. Her mother’s house was out of the question. As a Code Talker for the federal government, her mom was always under scrutiny. Enemies would stop at nothing to get their hands on her; to use her as leverage. It was the reason she didn’t have her mother’s last name. It was the reason she and her mother kept their relationship hidden, even from the Henchmen.

  She had no idea what to do. Lost in thought, Rachel was startled by a loud knock on the door. For a moment, fear gripped her. Rachel felt like she couldn’t breathe. It took a minute for her to calm herself, to remember she was inside. He would never make it into the house.

  The knock sounded again. “Come in,” Rachel called.

  Opening the door, Viper walked through. “You alone?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Rachel confirmed.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m alright, I guess.” Honestly, Rachel didn’t know what she was feeling. So many emotions swirled inside of her. Pain, Fear, hurt, but the most dominant emotion was anger. Rachel was pissed.

  “So here’s the plan,” Viper started.

  “No.” Rachel interrupted. “No more plans. I am leaving tonight. On my own.”

  “No, you’re not,” Viper retorted.

  “Yes, I am.” Rachel wouldn’t allow him to change her mind.

  “Rachel, you’re nineteen. Where do you think you’re going to go?” Viper counter. “No hotel will rent you a room, remember?”

  Rachel did remember. Hotels didn’t rent rooms to people under twenty-one, at least not decent ones. So what was she going to do?

  “I’ll figure it out,” she finally answered.

  “Right.” Viper didn’t sound convinced.

  “You know, you don’t have to be an ass!” Rachel shot back.