Page 42 of Diesel

“I don’t care. Let her go.” Diesel cut the rope with his knife. “Go upstairs, get your shit, and then leave.”

She stared at Diesel as if he’d grown another eye. “Seriously?”

“There’s a spot open in the basement. Would you like me to bury you in it?”

I remembered Madeline being buried alive in The Fall of the House of Usher and cringed.

Cloie got up and went upstairs. A few minutes later, she returned with her stuff: a jacket, a suitcase, and a small box. She started toward the door, but Diesel blocked her way. He grabbed the box and opened it.

“You lying bitch,” I said and punched the woman, dropping her at Diesel’s feet.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Diesel said. “You’re becoming a Tammy Wynette song.”

“And you are showing your age.”

“We got company,” Brianiac said. “Two pickup trucks.”

“Biker trash versus rednecks,” Beast said. “Just the way I like it.”

Each man drew a gun and started toward the front door. I tried to join Diesel, but he sent me back. “You watch this little bitch and send her out when I say.”

“Make sure you come back,” I said.

Diesel squeezed my ass the way he did in front of my father and walked outside.

“You’re going to need anger management.” Skittles turned my hand over to look at the knuckles. “You can’t keep slugging people.

“I’m in love with that man. I can’t help it. I know it’s fucked up, but I am.”

15

Diesel

There were no voices when I went outside to confront our new visitors. No voices told me to kill Cloie or anyone else. I’d returned the dead to the grave and my insanity to sanity. No doubt I would kill again, but that would be under circumstances when I had no other choice.

The rednecks climbed out of their trucks and lined up in front of me. I laughed and put the Glock away. The four guys held bats and chains—my kind of fight.

“What do you want us to do?” Beast asked.

“I guess just you. Think you can handle it?”

“You wanna tie one of my hands behind my back first?”

“Nice trucks,” I said. “Beast, back off for a minute.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m gonna get us a ride back to Arkansas. Watch and learn, boss.”

I descended the steps alone and approached the four men. I pointed at the man smirking. “I’m guessing you’re the ring leader of this little shit group.”

“That’s right,” the man said. He gently beat the end of a baseball bat in his hand—a real badass.

“I lay you four out, and I get the trucks.”

All four men laughed. “You’re joking, right?” he asked.

I pulled a wad of cash from my back pocket. “There’s two thousand dollars plus the jewelry the little bitch inside stole from the caskets.”

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