Page 21 of Diablo
“Nay,” the Brothers yell.
“Damn straight! I don’t like that fucker,” I hiss, rubbing my neck.
The last issue I want to review is that we have Folsom Mayor David J. Benson on video and photos while he was enjoying the strippers and the transgender stripper. The word out on the streets is that Benson wants to run for Governor.
Fucker is stupid.
Capo Mazza is providing Benson with the funds to run for Governor. I think that Capo wants to have his hand around Benson’s neck.
Brothers, keep on your schedules; I don’t want any fuck ups. We have a thriving MC, and your bank accounts are full of scratch. We’re going to have to look into another business to invest some of the money. When I have the details, we will review and vote on it.
Brothers, Church is over! Satan Warriors power,” Demon shouts, slamming the gavel on the wooden board.
“Riding till we die,” we yell.
Four
Athena
Two weeks later.
Fuck, I feel bloated.
I pull my jeans, suck in my stomach to button them up and pull the zipper. I look into the mirror, and I do look bloated.
Geeze, I’m gaining weight.
I walk to my closet, and I stop. I chew my lip, staring at the wedding dress that hangs in the closet, making my fate real. I stare at it and move my hand to my face, closing my mouth. The wedding dress smells, and it’s an odd smell that makes my stomach do cartwheels. Hell, my head throbs, and I feel totally off.
This guilt is killing me.
I can’t marry Roberto.
I shake my head and grab my boots. I pull them on and walk out of my room. I’m on a mission; I have to call the fucking wedding off.
My stomach is tied up in knots, and I take a few steps down the hall, stopping in front of my Dad’s office. I chew my lip and inhale, squaring my shoulders. I knock on the door and wait.
“Enter,” Dad says.
I open the white wood door and enter Dad's office. It is masculine, with dark wood furniture, taupe carpet, and drapes. The walls are dark gray, the view is beautiful, and he loves his office.
“Athena, I was just going to call you. Roberto has moved the wedding date. The wedding will be tomorrow, here at the house. He has everything planned; the wedding coordinator will be here early in the morning to prepare the wedding,” Dad says, raising his brow.
“Dad, why so fast? It’s supposed to be next week. How could you two change the dates without consulting with me,” I say, throwing my hands up in the air.
“Athena, you will do as we see fit. We don’t need to consult you; I’m your Dad.”
“Dad, I’m not going to marry Roberto!”
My heart pounds so fast that I think it’s going to explode. I’m afraid and pissed off that I can’t think.
“Athena, you will marry Roberto; the man loves you. I told you that he’s backing my election, so don’t fuck this up,” Dad hisses, taking a step toward me.
Now I’m frightened. Will he hurt me?
I take a step back, wide-eyed, watching his every move.
Dad reaches for me and grabs my arm tight, pulling me close. His eyes are cold, and he smiles cruelly.
