Page 8 of Chaplain

Gabe grabs the remote and turns on the TV, settling in beside me with his socked feet on the coffee table. I know I shouldn't have blabbed to Gabe. He's still a kid, and if put under pressure by Luca, he'll spill on me in a second. But, part of me knows what he's said is right - a new approach is needed with Diesel. I'm nowhere near ready to give up on what's sparking between us. I just need a different way to make it past Diesel's defenses.

The clubhouse is already bustlingwhen I arrive the following day. Prospects and hangarounds are busy washing bikes in the parking lot while more are restocking the bar in the lounge. As I make my way toward the back, I spot Diesel through the open chapel doors, sitting at a table with Ronnie and a few others. He glances up, and our eyes lock for a heartbeat before he looks away, jaw tightening.

I refuse to let the dismissive gesture sting. After my talk with Gabe last night, I'm resigned to ignoring everything Diesel does or doesn't do today.

Ronnie notices the silent exchange and arches an eyebrow at me but says nothing as he returns to addressing the group. I should go in. Ronnie has asked me to sit in on the first part of their morning meetings so I can hear any news about the Iron Demons and share any of my findings with the club leaders. But I'm feeling defiant, and Gabe's advice last night rings in my ears.

With a sigh, I head to my makeshift workroom, firing up my rigs and pointedly closing the door. I spend the next few hours immersed in data, tracking malware, and trying not to wonder how long it will take Diesel to notice the cold shoulder treatment.

Around mid-morning, there's a tentative knock at my door, and I'm about to get my answer. I mutter distractedly for them to come in without glancing up. The door creaks open, and heavy boots cross the worn floorboards toward me.

"How's it coming along?"

I stiffen slightly at Diesel's gravelly voice but keep my eyes on the screen. "Slow and steady. Their network security is no joke."

Out the corner of my eye, I see him rub his jaw where dark stubble is coming in. "Anything promising yet?"

"Too soon to say." I still don't look at him. Not even a hint of interest escapes my carefully focused gaze.

An awkward beat passes. Diesel clears his throat. "You missed our morning meeting. Could've used your insight."

I finally swivel my chair to face him directly, taking in the furrow between his brows. "Figured I'd get an early jump on things, you know since my hours are limited to daylight only. Ronnie knows the real intel is here in this room anyway. I'm sure he didn't mind."

Diesel looks vaguely disappointed but just nods. "Right. Well, I'll let you get back to it then."

As he turns to leave, impulse seizes me. "Diesel." He glances back, surprise flickering across his stony features. I hold his gaze unflinchingly. "Is something bothering you? You've been distant since last night, and I--."

Diesel looks away before cutting me off. "It's nothing. Just club business." His tone makes it clear the subject is closed. Without another word, he heads out and firmly closes the door behind him.

I scowl at the space he just occupied. The hot and cold act is getting exhausting. But two can play at that game. Turning back to the computer with renewed purpose, I resolve to maintain my distance. If Diesel wants to stick his head up his own ass, I'm going to let him.

Lunch at the club is informal. Members mill around the bar while the prospects cook simple meals and serve them. Usually, I take a break from my confined space and join them. But today, I'm afraid if I do, I'll run into Diesel again, and frankly, I've had enough brooding for one day.

Instead, Shane, one of the prospects, knocks on my door and delivers my usual hamburger with extra fries and a diet soda.

He grins at me, all goofy when I thank him for the tray, and I stifle a giggle at being addressed as Ms. Eden.

Shane stops at the door and hesitates. "There's a party here in the clubhouse tonight. Prez wants me to tell you you're invited."

I force myself not to smile at the deep blush spreading across his pale cheeks. He opens his mouth but then clamps it shut again and turns back to the door with a sheepish grin. How this kid will survive in the Dark Angels world is beyond me. "Is that all?" I ask. "It sounds like you have something else to say, Shane. What is it?"

He glances up from where he's been trying to avoid my eye contact. "Diesel threatened to have me breathing from my asshole if I delivered the message."

My attempt to hold back the corners of my lips fails miserably. So, Diesel thinks he can bully everyone into giving in to what he wants. "Thanks for telling me, Shane. I'll make sure to keep that last part a secret."

He timidly smiles before shutting my door. If Diesel wants to play games, I have the perfect one for him. Let's see how the big guy feels when I show up tonight, against his orders.

For the next several hours,I focus on work and nothing else. It isn't until the sound of heavy boots outside my door catches my attention that I realize it's early evening. Someone knocks and I'm sure it's Diesel, here to make sure I make it to my car and drive off the property before the party starts.

He's relentless in his goal of keeping me separated from the club. But when the door swings open, Diesel is not standing on the other side.

"Hey, Ms. Eden, it's getting late. Do you need an escort to your car?" Shane pops his head partway in, showing respect for my privacy, whereas Diesel would have barged right in.

I grin, but deep down, my heart does a little wither and die dance in my chest. Gabe was wrong. Pulling back was not the best move to get Diesel's attention. I resign myself to admit defeat by accepting Shane's offer when Diesel's hulking frame fills the doorway, eyes flashing dangerously. "I'll handle it. Go prep the bikes for the party tonight, prospect."

Looking like a scolded puppy, Shane mumbles a 'yes sir' and scurries off. Diesel turns that stormy gaze on me. "It's late. You shouldn't still be here."

"The trail was too hot to abandon," I answer, staring him down with the same intensity he's throwing at me.

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