Page 73 of Ruptured
“Make sure Symphony gets home safe,” Tee called, storming through the double doors separating the kitchen and dining room. Symphony trailed behind him. “You motherfuckers got to stop taking advantage of my generosity.”
She shifted her weight and gave Diesel a weak smile.
Keeping one eye on the newcomer, Diesel winked at her. “Take your displeasure up with Mortician, Tee.”
Glaring at him, Tee stomped out of the place.
“When I address someone with such politeness, I expect an immediate response.” The motherfucker who’d chosen tonight to die stepped closer and casually opened his leather jacket. He was strapped. Without invitation, he dropped into Jana’s chair. “Few motherfuckers show me such disrespect.”
Eyeing the asshole, Diesel smirked. “Symphony, sweetheart, give my friend and I some privacy.”
Not questioning his order, she hauled ass to the kitchen.
“Luckily, I’m notfew motherfuckers.” Diesel held out his hand. “I’m Diesel Caldwell.” Which he was sure the motherfucker already knew. “And you are?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course,” Diesel said with the utmost politeness. “Any miserable motherfucker who goes through the fucking troubleyoudid to get my fucking attention must want me to know their name before I rip off their fucking head and shove it up their cockhole.”
Fury hardened his face. “What if I told you I was your worst fucking nightmare?”
Corny ass line. Unimpressed, Diesel dropped his hand. “And what if I told you that’s fucking doubtful? The onlyfucking reason I want to know your fucking name is because I don’t enjoy killing strangers,” he lied. He didn’t give a fuck. Names usually weren’t important if he, or the club, marked a motherfucker for death.
This was different. He wanted to know who the fuck enacted this elaborate plan.
Laughter exploded from the stranger. “I’m Tío. A name to remember. A name that should make you shiver when you hear it.”
Diesel snorted. “I don’t have time for the fucking theatrics and worse deliveries. I’m not amusedorimpressed. Tell me what the fuck you want and then get the fuck out of my face. I’m in a good mood, so I’ll give you the chance to walk the fuck away in one piece.”
Tío narrowed his eyes. In that moment he looked so much like CJ that Diesel blinked.
Fuck.
“You’re annoying me, so get out of my fucking face.”
“I’m annoying you?” Tío laughed again, an unhinged sound that pissed Diesel off so much, he almost shot the fuck out of him.
Somehow, he wrestled his temper under control. If thiswasBash’s son, killing him for no fucking reason would spin shit out of control.
“I resent that.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck about what you resent?” Diesel barked, furious he’d listened to Jana.
“You should.”
Despite what she’d endured, she still believed in people. Instead of trusting her kindness he should’ve known better.
“I’m here on a very important matter, for a very important person. Fucking over her, fuck’s over me.”
Fucking overher? Diesel squinted. Considered Tío’s smugness as if he were in on a great fucking secret. How many fucking times had he wanted to throwherfrom the top of theBurj Khalifa? Immediately, he knew who’d put Tío up to this stunt. Tabitha. That fucking bitch.
Not for nothing,someonesent Tío to put Diesel in his place. If it was Tabitha, then she thought to force him to her will andshe was admitting she knew Bash.
If it was Bash? Then, Uncle Christopher would know why the motherfucker was involving himself in personal shit and sending his son–nephew?--as henchman.
Tired of her games, Diesel grabbed Tío’s throat, dragged him to his feet and shoved his gun into his mouth. “Hands up, motherfucker. Or should I saycousin?”
Those hazel eyes widened.
