Page 8 of Diesel

I walked around the behemoth. “My grandparents had one,” I said. “My grandpa let me drive it a time or two out west on the open road. I’ll help drive it part of the way.”

“I’m going,” Skittles said, and Beast didn’t say no.

Gigi joined me, and I moved my hand around her back, grabbing her ass and not letting go. She whimpered, and I squeezed harder. “You and I are going to rock this bad boy,” I whispered.

“Stimpy,” Beast said. “I need a hitch added to the back for a bike trailer. We’ll be pulling our bikes.” He noticed everyone standing around. “Get back to work.”

“I appreciate it, brother,” I said. “I didn’t expect any help.”

“This is what we do,” Beast said. “Get your shit packed and be back in the morning.”

Beast left as the Rolls pulled through the open gates. A van followed, and six large men got out. They reminded me of a football defensive line. Charles exited the Rolls and approached, smug, badass-like.

“Charles, go home,” Gigi said. “You don’t wanna do this. And take my father’s car back to him.”

“I see you’re letting a woman speak for you now,” Douchebag said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been fearful.”

“Fearful?” I moved Gigi away. “I don’t think you understand, dipshit.” I pointed at the six men who had no idea what they were getting into. “You better take them back to their dorms before I send them back in body bags.”

I heard the boots coming up behind me. Twelve club members stood by my side. The six men glanced at each other, reconsidering.

“Go back inside,” I said. I removed my kutte and pulled on riding gloves.

“Do as he said,” Beast said. He moved in front of me. “You sure about this?” I nodded. “Don’t kill any of them, but make sure they remember not to return.”

“I got it, boss.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Diesel?” Gigi asked. “You can’t fight them by yourself.”

“Gigi,” Skittles said. “Come with me.”

“Don’t, Diesel.” Gigi put her arm around mine, and Skittles pulled her away.

The ringing in my ears started as I took a step forward. Then the voice began, telling me what to do, telling me the exact opposite of what Beast had said. The voice wanted all six men dead.

“This is your last chance,” I said to the men. “Get your ass back into the van. It’s a bad day to die.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Charles chided the men as they walked back to the van. “I paid you! It’s one fucking man!”

It’s one thing to think bikers are crazy motherfuckers. It’s an entirely different thing to find out for sure. The defensive linemen didn’t want to find out. I knew what they were thinking. The guy has to be one brick short of a load, thinking he could fight all of us. Yeah, I was a brick short, but I fucking knew I’d lay out all six men.

“This isn’t over.”

I had to give Charles his props. He stood his ground though terror marred his face. He wanted me to hit him. For some reason, he thought martyrdom was noble. Maybe Gigi would take him back if he showed me what kind of man he was. I understood. At sixteen, a boy at school kissed my girlfriend. The dickhead stood a good six inches taller than me and had at least a twenty-pound weight advantage. I told him to stay away from my girl. He told me to go to hell and landed his first punch. I went down and stayed down.

“It is over, Charles.” I pointed at the gate. “Time to go.”

Charles did as told, his football team following. No fucking way the asshole or Gigi’s father was giving up that easy.

“I’m sorry,” Gigi said. “He can be a real asshole.”

Gigi’s phone buzzed in her back pocket, and when she pulled it out, she walked away, her fingers furiously tapping the screen as she replied to the message she received. The scowl told me it wasn’t good news. She turned, and tears were filling her eyes.

“What’s up, G?” I asked. I pulled her into my arms, and she turned the screen.

I didn’t want to say her father was being an asshole, but the message on the screen didn’t sound right. Her father claimed her mother had fallen ill and that she should come home as soon as possible. I thought it was bullshit.

“What should I do?” she asked.

---