Page 23 of Diesel

The bullet knocked Taylor back several feet, blood and bone exiting her back. Trixie turned the gun, but a second too late. Her wrist popped between my hands, and she screamed, dropping the gun and dropping to her knees.

“Give me your hand,” I said.

“Fuck you!”

“Fine by me. It can stay dislocated.”

“Fix it, asshole.”

I pulled up a chair and sat. “You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?” I grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“Fuck!” Trixie jerked her hand away. “Big biker asshole hurting a woman.”

“You threw etiquette in the trash when you pulled a gun on me. Now, fucking start talking.” I pointed at the counter. “You killed that woman like it’s something you do all the time. Fucking ice in your heart and veins. That shit didn’t bother you at all.”

“I told you.”

“Bullshit.” I reached for her hand, and she slid back. “What agency do you work for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She leaned against a post, her dislocated hand on the floor. I had to give her props. She was a trooper. “Talk, or I turn you over to the club. Tell me something worth knowing, and I’ll let you live.”

“I told you. My sister was last seen with you. I know you killed her.”

9

Gigi

“Your entire club is fucked,” I said.

The Prospect left and locked the door. The barred window offered no escape solution. I was told to keep my mouth shut and that everything would be okay. Why take me in the first place?

I sat on the cot in the room, and the door opened. A biker came in and closed the door.

“Cigar Stevens,” he said. “I’m President of Three Kings MC. Hope you’re comfortable. Everyone has been told not to lay a hand on you.”

“The smartest thing you can do right now is let me go.” I remained seated. Trying to escape would have been stupid, and so far, I believed what they told me. “Diesel will come, and when he does, you better believe he’ll tear this place apart.”

“The Brothers are hours away. We’ll be ready.”

“You don’t understand.” I stood and peeked between the window curtains. “Diesel will come here by himself. He won’t wait for help.”

“I’ve thirty bikers around this compound. Nobody’s getting in without being shot dead.” He pulled a phone from his pocket and sent a message. He was afraid. “Now, we need to discuss what’s happening with you.”

“Better hurry. There’s not much time left.”

“Got a call yesterday that you were heading this way.” He got up and walked around the room. His size surprised me. No more than five foot ten or so, skinny, broken nose, a scar over his left eye, I was sure he couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag.

“My father called you, didn’t he?” He was going to get people dead. “Just let me go because I’m not returning to Arkansas.”

Someone knocked on the door, and the door opened. “The van is ready,” a Prospect said.

“Send two extras. Tell Capone he needs to go.”

The Prospect nodded and left the room.

“You can either go quietly, or we can drag you out. Either way, you’re going.” He walked to the door. “And it wasn’t your father who called. Some guy named Charles or Charlie or something.”

I said nothing. Charles had made a critical mistake, thinking that having me followed and kidnapped would ever bring me running into his arms. In fact, it made me want to let Diesel punch him in the face.

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