Chapter Two
Rachel
Coming to, Rachel knew she wasn’t in her room. The bed felt different and so did the sheets. Fear gripped her, as she tried to think back to yesterday. She hadn’t drunk any alcohol; she never did. Did one of the guys spike her drink?
No. They wouldn’t do that, Rachel thought to herself, afraid to open her eyes.
And then it hit her, like a ton of bricks. She had been sitting outside, behind the bar, on the patio. Her mom had brought her a bunch of brochures for art school. She had been reading through them when he appeared. Rachel had been surprised that he was out of jail. The detective on the case never told her he was being released. And now, he had found her. She still didn’t know how. Nobody knew where she was, except her mother and her mother’s boyfriend; but, Rachel knew they would never say a word.
Somehow, he had tracked her down here. That is when he attacked her. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her out of the chair. The brochures scattered on the ground. Rachel hadn’t felt fear like that since the last time she had found herself at his mercy. He started to yell, but there was no way anyone would hear him over the music pumping through the house. Nobody would hear her scream, either.
Rachel was completely alone again. She begged for him to let her go. She cried and tried to twist out of his grip. She could feel the hair being pulled out of her head. The pain was excruciating and more tears formed in her eyes.
Suddenly, Rachel forced her eyes to open. She wasn’t outside anymore. She willed herself to calm down. Slowed her breathing. Finally, the panic ebbed. Looking around the room, she had no idea where she was until her eyes landed on the man sleeping on the chair. Diesel. Playboy, jokester, Henchmen disciplinarian.
He was gorgeous. Diesel stood a few inches taller than her, maybe six foot. He had long wavy black hair, with the sides shaved. He looked more like a rocker, than a biker. He even had piercings in his ears and nose. And he always wore the same thing - black leather pants, black skin tight t-shirts, and his black leather cut. Rachel didn’t think he even owned a regular pair of jeans, or any other color of clothing. Heck, his underwear is probably black too, she thought.
Since Diesel was still sleeping, Rachel could look to her heart’s content. The blanket he was covered with was riding low on his hips. Rachel could see the magnificent art work that covered areas of his body. Across his collarbone, the words, ‘Dressed In Black’ were spaced perfectly.
So fitting, she thought with a smile.
Both of his arms were covered from shoulder to wrist in an intricate flow of beautiful art. The artist in her could pick out every detail. The work was absolutely beautiful. Diesel was beautiful too, for a man. Maybe beautiful wasn’t the right word, she thought with a silent laugh. Whatever he was, even in his sleep, he caused butterflies to launch in her stomach.
Rachel had secretly been almost in love with the man from the moment she saw him. But her mom warned her to stay away from the party boy. So that is what she did. Rachel kept to herself, mostly staying in her room. The Henchmen had a lot of club girls, but that was definitely not the life she wanted for herself. When she first got here a few guys hit on her, but that ended rather quickly. For the most part, everyone left her alone.
“Keep staring at me like that, and I’ll be forced to climb in that bed with you.” Diesel voice caused Rachel to jump in surprise.
A painful moan fell from her lips; the jolt made her body hurt. A reminder that she was not safe. Not here, not anywhere. If he could find her here, then he could get to her no matter where she was. The Henchmen couldn’t protect her anymore. That thought caused a shiver to wrack her body.
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.