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Sergeant at Arms: Devil's Henchmen MC, Book Three by Samantha McCoy (8)


 

Chapter Eight

Rachel

 

Rachel knew she didn’t have many choices. Going with Diesel was probably the smartest thing she could do, but the idea of riding behind him, being that close to him, left her feeling unsettled. It wasn’t a bad unsettled, more like a nervousness.

“I can just ride with Viper,” she told him.

“Rachel, get on the bike,” Diesel sighed.

She knew she was being difficult; and honestly, she had no valid reason not to ride with him. At least, no reason she cared to voice out loud.

“Can we just wait for Sledge to send someone to fix my bike, and then I can just follow you?” Rachel asked hopefully.

“Listen, whoever sliced your tires, is still around here. Nobody would cut your tires and then just leave. They might not be in this parking lot, but they’re watching from somewhere nearby. Now, the longer we stand here and debate this, the more likely it is that they will come back. So please, just get on my bike,” Diesel reasoned.

Rachel knew Diesel was telling the truth. Nobody would cut and run. Feeling the stress of the situation closing around her, she did the only thing she knew she could do - she climbed on the back of Diesel’s bike.

Rachel watched as Diesel walked back over to Viper. The two exchanged words and briefly shook hands, before Diesel made his way back over to the bike and climbed on in front of her. The feel of him between her legs was like nothing she had ever felt before. It was almost as if he were made to fit in that exact spot.

“Hold on,” Diesel said as he started his bike.

Rachel wrapped her arms around his middle in a loose grip, but that didn’t last long. As soon as Diesel shot forward, racing out of the parking lot like the hounds of hell were following them, Rachel tightened her grip. And really, that wasn’t far from the truth because as soon as they hit the road, the black sedan that had originally followed Rachel, was back behind them.

“We have company,” Rachel shouted to be heard over the wind rushing past them.

Diesel weaved the bike through traffic, zipping and zagging around cars like they were standing still. But no matter how fast he maneuvered, the sedan was right behind them.

“Hold -,” Diesel didn’t get to finish before a bullet grazed past them, hitting the back window of a car Diesel had just sped past.

“Shit!” This was bad, Rachel thought. Really bad.

“Hang on,” Diesel called.

Rachel wrapped her arms around him tighter. The moment she was settled, Diesel cranked on the gas and the bike shot forward as another bullet whizzed by, only this one managed to graze her right shoulder. Blinding pain shot down her arm. It felt like a fire burning her skin. She wanted to scream but instead clamped her teeth together. If she threw up any type of alarm, Diesel would lose concentration. They would never make it out of this alive if he didn’t stay focused.

Rachel closed her eyes trying to will the searing pain away, but it wasn’t going anywhere. She could feel the dampness of her tears sliding down her cheeks.

Come on, just breathe, she told herself.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually, the pain ebbed and numbness took its place. As long as she didn’t move it, Rachel could almost pretend the bullet never touched her.

Thinking about everything in her life, Rachel could honestly say, this was the one time she wished she had been born to different parents. This was not the life she wanted. Always on the run. Always in protective mode. And why? Because she was born to parents that were high ranking military officials.

‘Official’ really wasn’t the correct term. Rachel’s parents were U.S. spies. Top level military clearance, but spies nonetheless. The game had gotten her father killed when Rachel was a kid, but her mother was still neck-deep in the game. Which was the exact reason why Rachel kept her parentage a close, guarded secret. This was not the life she wanted. Shaking her head, Rachel finally registered the changes in the area surrounding her and Diesel.

She watched as the scenery changed from city sky-line to country landscape. The plains of Northern Texas seemed to stretch for miles. Green and brown patches of earth replaced the endless concrete of Dallas. 

“Where are we going?” She asked, close to Diesel’s ear.

“My place,” he answered, turning his head slightly to look back at her.

“I told you, I am not going to the compound,” panic filled her. She couldn’t bring this type of danger there. She couldn’t risk something happening to the kids. They were just babies.

“Does this look like the fucking way to the compound, Rachel?” Diesel called over his shoulder.

Jerk, she thought to herself. Looking around, Rachel knew this definitely wasn’t the way to the compound. But she didn’t even know Diesel had a house away from the Henchmen. He was always there. Day and night. Why would he have a house if he never stayed there?

Rachel felt the bike begin to slow. Diesel made a right turn that led them along a tree covered drive. The shade from the trees was a drastic change from the heat of the sun beating down on them.

At first, Rachel thought they were on another road, but ahead, the trees ended and a beautiful log cabin came into view. It was two story, with thick columns made of full size tree trucks. Rustic beauty would be a good description for it. Rachel had never seen anything like it.

Diesel brought the bike to the back side of the house and Rachel felt her mouth fall completely open. The rear was even more stunning than the front. A solid wall of windows that overlooked a gorgeous lake. The second floor held a balcony that from Rachel’s point of view, looked to be overflowing with plants.

The bike came to a stop and Diesel shut it down. The first thing Rachel noticed was the silence that filled the air. No horns honking, no club members screaming at each other. Total silence, complete calm.

Rachel slowly climbed off the back of the bike, careful of her shoulder. Just the small movement caused it to throb again.

“Come on,” Diesel said, grabbing her left hand and walked toward the back of the house.

Rachel waited while he unlocked the door and held it open for her. Walking into the kitchen, Rachel was again stunned. Black and stainless steel, everything. The walls were a soft white, making everything else stand out. Again, the beauty of it caught her off-guard. This wasn’t what she expected.

“Surprised?” Diesel asked.

“Actually, yeah I am,” Rachel admitted. “Diesel, this place is amazing!”

“Thanks,” he replied.

Rachel watched as he walked to the fridge and pulled out two beers, handing her one of them.

“I’m not old enough to drink,” she reminded him.

“I think after the day you’ve had, we can make an exception,” Diesel responded.

Rachel took the beer. He was right. She was always the good girl. Always doing what was right and expected of her. But right now, she was scared, tired, and her arm hurt like heck. Bringing the bottle to her mouth, Rachel took a heavy pull from the neck. The coolness felt great sliding down her throat. She really hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.

“Here, let me take your jacket,” Diesel said, reaching for Rachel.

Trying to shrug out of the material caused a gasp to force its way from her lips. Rachel felt the room spin. The pain was back full force, radiating down her arm.

Did someone turn on the heat suddenly, she wondered.

“Fuck!” Diesel exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me you got hit?”

“It just grazed me,” Rachel said, grabbing the back of the closest bar stool.

“Sit down,” Diesel instructed, walking over to the kitchen sink.

Rachel watched as he turned on the water and started digging in the cabinet below. She was about to ask him what he was looking for, when he stood up holding a white First-Aid kit. Filling a bowl with water, he walked back over to her and placed the supplies on the counter.

“Let me see,” Diesel said, softly.

Rachel lifted the sleeve of her shirt so he could examine the injury. His touch was gentle and his face was a mask of concentration. He wasn’t what she thought he would be. Diesel was the perverted jokester. The rebel of the Henchmen. Rachel never thought of the words soft and gentle when it came to him. It seemed everything she thought about Diesel was being blown out of the water at every turn. Nothing was as it seemed. Suddenly, she didn’t know if coming here alone with him was a good idea.

 “This is going to burn. I’ll try to be easy, but it’s still going to hurt. I’m sorry,” Diesel told her and he placed the warm cloth over the wound.

“Shit!” Rachel exclaimed. Covering her mouth, she was mortified. “I am so sorry,” she said, quickly.

“What are you sorry for?” Diesel asked. “I know it hurts.”

“I don’t cuss. I never cuss,” she reminded him.

“Ah. Well, sometimes a well-placed ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’ can go a long way.”

“Maybe for you, but not me.”

“Rachel, it’s okay. You’re forgiven,” Diesel smiled.

The look quickly changed as he went back to cleaning her arm, softly dabbing the dried blood away. Rachel couldn’t help but stare at him.

“You’re staring again,” Diesel pointed out.

“Sorry,” Rachel said, turning her head to look around the room. “This place is...”

“It’s what?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful,” Rachel said, in awe. Beautiful was truly an understatement. She had only seen outside and the kitchen, but that alone was beyond amazing. She had no doubts that the rest of the house would be just as stunning.

“Thanks,” he said, as he continued to concentrate on her arm.

“Why do you live at the compound when you have a home like this?” Rachel was really curious. If she had a home like this, she would never leave.

“It gets awfully lonely out here by myself. I don’t have anyone to share it with. So, what’s the point of being here?” At first Rachel thought he was joking, but after a quick glance in his direction, she saw the seriousness of his confession clearly written on his face.

“So you never come out here?” she asked.

“I come over a few days a week. I water the plants, check on things. But other than that, no. I stay at the compound,” Diesel admitted. “Okay, all fixed up.”

Rachel watched as Diesel cleared up the mess on the bar and put everything away. “This place really is stunning. If I had a home like this, I don’t think I’d ever leave.”

“You’ve only seen the kitchen,” Diesel laughed.

“And it’s a magnificent kitchen,” Rachel smiled.

“Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the place. We’ll see if your opinion changes.” Diesel grabbed her left hand again and walked her out of the kitchen and down a short hall. Entering the living room, Rachel stopped short.