Page 160 of Remiss
“Legend!” Ryder crowed.
They lifted him and carried him away like he was an MVP at a fucking football game.
“I’ll get gloves and help clean this up,” CJ said quietly.
“I ain’t feeling good, boy. I need to find a room to lay down.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. We’ll take care of it.”
Christopher remained silent. Obviously, CJ was upset. He’d been angry over his ma, told Christopher off, and then dropped it. Now, he seemed appalled. Either because he hadn’t pushed Christopher like Axel had or Axel hadn’t gotten in trouble.
CJ looked at Christopher. “You’re proud of him, aren’t you?”
Christopher shrugged, not wanting to add to CJ’s distress, but at the end of the fucking day, Axel did exactly what Christopher always demanded.
Protected his ma.
Hours later, Diesel found himself back in Brookings, his hometown, at the same diner he’d met Digger, Bunny, and a two-year-old CJ. He didn’t go in. Sometimes, when he came to reflect over the years, he did. He’d pick up a random girl to fuck. Either a waitress or a patron that he charmed.
But Jana was at home. Even so far away, he didn’t want to stick his cock in another woman. Whether she cared, inhismind, she deserved better.
He glanced at his watch. It was almost seven. He hadn’t eaten in hours. He wasn’t hungry, though.
He just wanted…he wanted his mom. Not the woman who gave birth to him. Fuck her. It wasAunt Meggie. The woman he always deserted to stand at Uncle Christopher’s side. The woman who loved him as her own anyway.
Maybe he’d kept his anger at bay when he discovered what Uncle Christopher did because he didn’t want to lose complete control. Realizing he’d driven her away left him so fucking furious. And, yet, he buried it. He took CJ’s route and seethed with resentment and indignation. The one time Diesel needed to open his fucking mouth and confront a motherfucker on behalf of a woman who deserved his loyalty, he clammed up.
Did he even deserve Aunt Meggie?
He’d find no answers in the nearly empty diner, so he rode away. Brookings was called the Wild Rivers Coast because of the area’s many rivers and the rugged Pacific coastline. The day Digger ran across Diesel had been a fluke. He preferred the untamed beauty of the shoreline. With nothing to do and no one to care, he’d walk hours, rummaging for food and a safe place to rest. Generally, he was smelly, hungry, and ready to end it all.
Three weeks before that fateful meeting, he’d met a college girl and she’d given him a place to stay, fed him, and bought him two changes of clothes. She was pretty, so her demand that he fuck her in exchange for her help hadn’t been an issue. Then, she offered him stability only if he followed every instruction she gave. Sleep with her friends? Check. In his fifteen-year-old-mind, it was more free pussy. Clean her house? If it kept him fed and off the streets? A very small price to pay. Walk her annoying ass motherfucking dog when that little bastard hated anyone other than his owner? Fine. Whatever. Diesel hadn’t liked it, but he’d done it.
Theonething he’d asked of her, theonlything that still mattered to him, was that she help him get back in school. She’d declined and gave him an ultimatum. Forget school and focus on what she wanted, or leave.
The next day, she dropped him off at the diner. He’d been too down to make it back to a beach and hadn’t known what he’d do. So many people looked at him with derision or sympathy, but none offered assistance. Twenty-four hours later, his life changed forever.
Hating those memories, Diesel headed to Lone Ranch Beach. In the gravel parking area, he killed his engine, but didn’t dismount, restlessness still plaguing him. The crashing waves once lulled him to sleep. He’d comb the beach for unique shells, realize he had no place for them, and move on. Now, he had more than enough space. He also had someone who would find them fascinating simply because he did—Axel.
What the fuck was Diesel doing? He was hours away from his family. The ride from Hortensia to here took nearly seven hours. Traveling down I-5 was easy enough, until Grant’s Pass, where he had to veer off to 199 that took him into California and finally Hwy 101.
Yet, for the first time ever, he didn’t look forward to going home. Aunt Meggiewasn’tthere—and Janawas.
What the fuck had he done?
Knowing he’d find no peace, Diesel started his bike and roared away. His destination? The other side of town with overgrowth and rundown homes. The one he sought had a yard filled with all types of junk.
He’d never knocked on the door. Just then, he wasn’t even sure if his father still lived at that address. He’d found him through property records three years ago. And hadn’t been able to bring himself to see him and hear…what?
He deserved to hearsomething. Diesel could finally understand why his father left him, too. Because he’d had a responsibility to his underaged son as well.
Just like Uncle Christopher had with Rule.
Still, he was there for a completely selfish reason. After all these years, if his father really was behind that door, he wanted to ask him how he’d coped after Theresa left. What had he done to find her, win her back if he had? How had he finally accepted that she’d left and would never return?
Shaking his head, Diesel laughed softly. The motherfuckerleft. That’s how he’d coped. Because he’d been devastated. Broken. Unable to face life without his wife.
That decided him. Killing his engine, Diesel dismounted and forced himself to wade through the beer bottles, old stove, overgrowth, broken dishes, and rocks.
