Chapter 1
Diesel
I didn’t want to admit it to any of their faces, but having families of their own did make them soft. I sat there with my phone in my hand as all the guys left the lodge, my mind spinning wildly. I knew what each of them were thinking, even though they didn’t come out and say it. Knox was stressed with all of this because he wanted it wrapped up before Monroe went into labor. Grave was on edge because Everly was probably giving him a hard time about being scared for her life because her brother was out on bail. Brewer was still recovering and wasn’t at full strength, which made him feel incapable of taking care of the woman and the little girl he promised to take care of.
And Rock? Well, he was simply trying to keep his newfound family together.
I closed my eyes and blocked them from my mind. It never shut off. It never shut down. My mind never stopped analyzing people in front of me. The way they talked. The way they sat. The way they jiggled their leg and the way their hands were callused. It told me so many things about that person. The dog hairs on their leather jackets or the hickies on their necks. The way someone drummed their fingers or the cheek they decided to chew on. Hell, even the way their eyes darted whenever they recalled a story to tell me.
It all served a purpose, and it all served to paint an accurate picture of the person standing in front of me.
That was why this thing with Mick hit me as hard as it did. I personally groomed Mick for our club. I completely trusted him. I personally introduced him to the guys. I vouched for him. My entire reputation had been slaughtered by this weaselly, greedy little asshole. And now I felt as if I couldn’t trust my own gut.
I felt as though I had something to prove to my club. As their President, as their friend, and as the guy that brought Mick aboard, I had a fucking mess to clean up.
But I knew it would come at a price.
I hadn’t spoken with the President of the Black Hornets in a few years. Even though we both lived in Redding, I made sure to keep my distance. Dean and I were on good terms, but they were a rough group. Loyal to their core, but tough as fucking nails. Even for my standards, they rode a line I never dreamed of toeing. They were muscle for hire, and usually the clean-up crew that everyone called to get them out of tough situations.
I knew if I called him for a favor of this magnitude, there would be a price to pay I’d have to shoulder. Because I sure as hell wasn’t saddling that price on the men in my club who now all had families.
We needed the muscle for whatever Rex had planned next. We needed the brotherhood, to help us heal after one of our own ratted on us. And a friendly reunion between the two clubs was in order anyway. What better way to bring about a reunion than killing someone that both clubs hated?
I opened my contacts and scrolled through my phone until I reached Dean’s number.
I stood there, staring at the screen of my phone. And my mind flew back to Brynn. That beautiful young girl with so much life ahead of her. My heart stopped in my chest as my finger hovered over the phone. She had been vibrant. Beautiful. Full of life and laughter and a light I could never get to shine in my own life. I wondered if she’d still be poking her head in shit that didn’t concern her if she were still alive.
I wondered if her and I would still be together if she hadn’t died.
Back in high school, we hadn’t been much. Just a couple of teenage kids stealing quick fucks in the stairwell to relieve stress during exam weeks. But that young girl had been beautiful. Long, flowing red hair and dazzling hazel eyes. A broad smile that knocked me off my feet and petite little lips that unleashed and filled any room with the incredible sound of her laughter. I had been taken by Brynn. By Dean’s daughter.
Until she died.
I still couldn’t think about it without getting angry.
Contacting Dean would open up all those old wounds. I knew it would. But that was the downfall of my character. A father was always supposed to protect his family, and Dean failed Brynn. His daughter died because of his own fucking negligence with his own fucking club, and we all paid the price for it. Dean. His club. Me. And most importantly, Brynn.
The entire damn town paid for his negligence.
I couldn’t think about Brynn without getting sick to my stomach. Even though she was a warm place to seat my cock, I would’ve given that woman anything. All she had to do was bat those fucking eyelashes of hers and I would’ve caved. Her death was the reason I studied what I did. Became who I was. Her death triggered within me a want to know everything racing through the minds of everyone around me. I studied human behavior and devoured books on body language. I told myself that whoever was under my care--no matter where I ended up--would always be safe with me. They’d be safe from harm before it ever fucking began because I’d know it was coming.
I’d see it in the eyes of my enemy.
Her life was ended by a fucking shootout. How the hell had Dean not seen a fucking shootout coming for his lodge?
And why the hell had Brynn--a fucking teenage girl--been there in the first place?
There were so many questions I’d never have answers to.
I wasn’t there the night it happened. I was a prospect for the Black Hornets at the time, and I was fixing one of their bikes. I only found out about the shootout because I was heading back to the lodge, and I saw the ambulance cart off Brynn. I had felt my heart plummet to my stomach. I raced behind the ambulance to the hospital but once I got there, Dean wouldn’t let me see her. He wouldn’t let anyone see her. I waited there all night, praying that she would be alright. I watched in anger as full members of the Black Hornets went back to see Brynn, but each time I asked to see her, Dean said no. I was just about to force myself back there, when he grabbed onto me and told me she had died.
My finger touched down onto Dean’s number and I stomached my memories. Stomached the sound of cellos playing at Brynn’s funeral. Stomached the snapshot pictures of her casket being lowered into her grave. Stomached the pictures and the flowers and the useless comments and condolences tossed my way haphazardly from those who knew I had been fucking around with her.
What I wouldn’t have given to trade places with her.
“Diesel?”
“Hey there, Dean.”
“The hell you doing calling my phone?” he asked.
“If you don’t know, then I’ve done a damn good job of covering my tracks,” I said.
“The fuck you gotten into now, boy?”
“I was hoping you’d set up a meeting with me so we could discuss all of that,” I said. “The Dead Souls have been put into a spot where we need some muscle.”
“Well, we got plenty of that,” he said. “What do you need the muscle for?”
“For Rex.”
The silence on the other end of the line told me Dean hadn’t forgotten him.
“Fuckin’ hell, that piece of shit is causing trouble again? I’m glad you called, Diesel. It’s been a while.” I could hear the tightness in his voice. He hated Rex just as much as I did.
“It’s been a hell of a past few years,” I said.
“You don’t gotta tell me that shit,” Dean said. “When and where do you wanna meet?”
“This meeting’s off the books. You familiar with Tunnel Canyon?”
“Hell yeah, I am,” he said. “Middle of the road?”
“Just past sunset,” I said. “I’ll see you then.”
“It’ll be good to see you again, Diesel”
I wish I could tell that man the same sentiment.
“See you then, Dean,” I said.
Then I hung up the phone and prepared myself for the meeting ahead. It would be the first time I looked that man square in his face since Brynn’s funeral. And my only hope was that I could control my tongue long enough to set this shit up for my club.
Because the safety of them and their families was paramount to any residual anger I held over the death of the woman I’d loved.
Well, loved as much as I could as a damn seventeen-year old.