Page 6 of Diesel

“I know, Diesel. I know that.” He placed a bloody hand in mine. I moved closer. “Take me to your place, and let me help you.” I tossed my car keys to Skittles. “I’ll ride on your bike.”

“It’s fine,” Diesel,” Beast said. “We’ll take care of this douchebag.”

Diesel and I walked back through the building and out to his bike. He climbed on without a word, and I climbed on behind him, blood on my hands and shirt.

We drove straight through the town center to Diesel’s place. At that moment, he didn’t care if the locals stopped us. I feared he wanted another fight, one that would result in death by a cop. Luckily, nobody noticed the bloody biker passing by. His heart pounded so hard and fast that I could feel it through his back.

Diesel slowed on the opposite side of the city and pulled into a parking lot. The apartments around us were nicer than I had imagined they would be. He parked and climbed off the bike, stopping to help me. He said nothing while leading me to a first-floor apartment.

“Diesel, talk to me.”

He opened the apartment door, and we entered. He tossed the keys on the kitchen table and returned to the bedroom, where there was a second bathroom.

“There’s a First-Aid kit in the closet.” He ran his hand under the faucet while I found the kit. I wondered, when he gazed into the mirror, what he saw. A biker? A monster? Did he see the thing inside him trying to get out?

He sat on the toilet and rested his hand on the vanity. The skin around four knuckles was gone. I put a finger under his chin and tilted his head. “It’s fine now.” I put an antibiotic on his knuckles and then wrapped the knuckles in gauze. “How can I help you?”

“I really don’t know, G.” He flexed the hand wrapped in gauze. “Thank you.”

“What happened before I got there?” I asked. I didn’t want him to think I was pushy, but I wanted to help.

“While we were inside, this fucking ringing in my ears started, so I came out back to get fresh air.” He stood and went to the living room. I followed at a safe distance. I didn’t think he would hurt me intentionally, but whatever was floating around in his head might make him do it unintentionally. “I saw a man standing amongst the trees. Fucker just stood there. Didn’t say a damn word.” He pressed his hands against his temples. “Then he said, ‘It’s time, Ludwig.’”

“Time for what?”

Diesel sat on the couch and opened the whiskey bottle on the end table. He took a long drink, capped the bottle, and put it aside. “I want you to go to Boston with me.”

“You think it was a message from a dead relative?”

“I don’t need you patronizing me, G.” He reached for the whiskey bottle but pushed it away.

“I’m not. I’m trying to understand what it all means.” I walked to the door, ready for a road trip. “We should get back to the club and tell them we’re heading northeast.” I gave him a smile in hopes of lifting his spirits.

“You’re a good old lady, G.”

“I’m assuming that’s a compliment?”

Diesel smiled, and I felt better about his mental state, at least for now. “How’s your ass?” He got up and pinned me against the door. “Sore?”

“That’s what you were hoping, isn’t it?”

“Hope is a dangerous thing, G.” He slapped my ass, inflicting pain. “I saw the way you were walking.” He pulled me away from the door, and we left.

Not that his ego wasn’t already inflated, but I didn’t tell Diesel it wasn’t easy sitting on the bike. When we got to the club, the lot was full of bikes, and my ass was happy to get off and walk.

“How’s he doing?” Skittles asked. She was sitting outside with Wendy and Carmen, drinking beers and wearing blue jeans and tank tops. I laughed because we looked like old ladies.

“Looks like we’re going on a road trip.” I pulled a can of beer from the ice bucket on the table and started my own party. “I think we’re heading to Boston in the morning.”

Wendy and Carmen cheered.

Skittles frowned. “Does Beast know this?”

I shrugged. “He probably does now.”

3

Diesel

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