Page 1 of Switchin' Lanes
Prologue
Tink
Thanksgiving 2020
Dieseland the others came back from New Mexico yesterday. I was at the clubhouse when Kicks brought him in in a wheelchair. My jaw hit the floor when I saw him. He was shot and didn’t bother calling or have Hollywood call to let me know.
To say I was pissed is an understatement. As soon as I knew he was okay and settled in his room, I left. With the lockdown lifted, I went home. I haven’t talked to either of them since. Diesel has called and texted a few times, but I’ve ignored him.
Hollywood on the other hand, hasn’t called or texted once. Something is going on with him, but I haven’t been able to figure out what. He’s been distancing himself from me more and more. Maybe I’ll be able to get him alone sometime today so we can talk this shit out. We’ve been friends for too long for him to ghost me.
When I walk into the clubhouse, a bunch of the guys are sitting around, watching football. Hollywood included. He doesn’t so much as glance my way.
“How’s Diesel doing? Has anyone checked on him recently?” I say to the room.
“Tink, go fuckin’ talk to him yourself,” Hollywood snaps at me. The words hit me like a slap to the face. Hollywood has never lashed out at me. He looks at me for the first time since I walked in. His eyes soften as he stands and moves toward me. “Go take care of him. He needs you.”
“What about you?” It comes out as a whisper. There was a point in time when Hollywood needed me, too.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m over this shit,” he states, gesturing between the two of us. Then he walks right out of the clubhouse.
I’m frozen in place. Multiple emotions course through my body, completely overwhelming me.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Marley says softly. I was so far in my head, I didn’t even notice her walk up to me.
I shake my head, attempting to clear my mind. “Nothing. I need to go talk to Diesel.”
“Okay, I’m here if you need anything.” She wraps me in a quick hug before I head down the hallway to Diesel’s room.
“Knock, knock,” I say as I walk into his room.
“Hey there, Pixie. I thought you were mad at me.” The corner of his mouth tips up in a half-smile.
“I still am, but I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” I give him a small smile.
“Well, I’m better now.” His eyes lock on mine. “Is everything okay?”
“No.” I could lie and say yes, but he would know I’m lying.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“No, but I know you’ll drag it out of me anyway,” I say.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me. You’re damn right I’ll drag it out of you. If something’s bothering you, I wanna know what it is.”
“I had a run-in with Hollywood,” I tell him.
“And?”
“He told me he was done with me. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but he won’t talk to me.”
“Oh, Pixie. Come here.” He pats the bed.
I climb on the bed, careful not to move wrong and hurt Diesel.
“I know it’s not helpful, but he hasn’t been talkin’ to me either,” Diesel says. “And it might not mean much now, but I’m sorry for not lettin’ you know I was shot. I didn’t want you worryin’ about me.”
“I . . . “
