Page 18 of Diesel

“They’ll be back,” I said. “For now, I need new pants.”

We stopped at a mall on the south side of town, and I bought only what would fit inside one of the saddle bags.

“There’s a boke bar on the north side,” Diesel said. “Let’s head over for dinner, and afterward, we’ll head to the hotel.”

He pulled away from the mall. I said nothing but thought stopping at a biker bar in a completely different state was a bad idea. I knew enough about the life that clubs didn’t like each other, especially those who operated the way Brothers of Chaos did.

At the first stoplight, I tapped Diesel on the shoulder. He looked back, but I said, “Never mind.”

The bar parking lot looked like a Harley dealership. Diesel climbed off the bike and nodded. “Look at those babies. That’s what the life is all about.” He moved closer to a couple of bikes but didn’t touch them. Even at his size, he knew handling another man’s bike could get him killed.

Two bikers sat on the railing at the front of the bar, neither pleased to see an out-of-towner. As we approached, the stairs leading to the front entrance creaked. Neon Budweiser signs faintly buzzed. Cigarette butts littered the ground.

“The cunt can go in, but you can’t, big boy,” one of the bikers said. They jumped from the rail and blocked the door. Neither man ever visited a gym, and more than likely frequented a dohunt shop.

Diesel shrugged. “G. I don’t know this time.”

The entrance opened, and another biker came out. Bikers in this part of the country were eating something different than they were in Arkansas. If I said yes, Diesel’s work would end quickly.

“Let’s just find somewhere else to eat,” I said. “Obviously, the food here isn’t good for you.”

Diesel stepped back, once again listening to soft words of encouragement. Then everything went to hell.

“Do what the little cunt says,” one of the men said. They all laughed. “Letting his old lady tell him what to do. Pussy.”

Diesel changed his mind and took a step forward. The men stopped laughing. I stopped encouraging Diesel to back off. The three men made a mistake by berating him. All I could do was stand back and watch. Diesel turned. “G, I won’t kill them.”

I nodded. “That’s good, Diesel. That’s real good.”

The men laughed once last time. The next time they laughed, they wouldn’t have any teeth.

Diesel hit the man in the middle. The man stumbled back and landed in a chair, out cold. The other two men grabbed Diesel by the arms, but Diesel simply rammed the men’s heads together. The one on the left fell down the steps. The man on the right had a much harder head and remained standing. To my shock, Diesel allowed the man to hit him one time. Diesel held his ground, and when the man swung a second time, Diesel caught the man’s hand, twisted, and broke his arm.

The man dropped to his knees, screaming like a little bitch.

Diesel raised the man’s chin and said, “Get on your bike and leave.”

The man stopped screaming and did as he was told. We watched him ride off, and I thought we would leave. We didn’t. Diesel opened the door, met by loud, twangy country music and drunken laughter.

I stepped inside first, and Diesel followed. The drunken laughter stopped. Diesel led us to an open booth. The man had zero fear of the other bikers.

“What can I get you?” a waitress said. She laid two menus on the table and checked out Diesel as if he were alone, her smile and gaze lasting longer than needed. If white trash had a picture, it would be hers.

“Two beers to start,” Diesel said. He noticed my scowl and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” The waitress looked from Diesel to me.

“Two burgers and fries,” Diesel said.

The waitress wrote the order on her pad and walked away. She returned moments later with the beers, scowled at me, and left.

“What a bitch.” I grabbed a beer. “You do know, eventually, I’ll have to defend myself.”

Diesel leaned forward. “The voices talking to you, too?”

“That’s not funny, but I won’t let another woman disrespect me like that. She practically had you naked.”

Diesel drank his beer, eyes shifting around the bar, seeing most of the other eyes in the bar on us. He couldn’t possibly whip every man in the place.

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