Page 25 of Diesel
It felt weird that he was talking about having sex with me, especially to my dad. I felt sick.
“Just like her mother,” my dad said with disgust. “That’s why we have some tail on the side, right?”
“Indeed.”
More laughter drifted out of the room, mocking me, taunting me. Making me feel like I was about to break. Or worse, snap.
“And the baby thing, that may throw a wrench in the whole plan,” my dad said in a frustrated tone.
“That’s why we have to get this over with and hope people don’t really pay attention to the timing of it all,” Steven said. “She’s only like three months, so we can hide it for a while, I’m thinking. But, I guess, even if it becomes an issue, at least we were engaged when she got pregnant. People won’t suspect that it isn’t mine. We can play it off like we were so very eager to start a family.”
“She has always been a pain in the ass.” My dad’s voice was harsh and mean. I swallowed hard, knowing I should leave. But my feet wouldn’t move. “They said having a kid will help my image. I fucking hate kids. Said the same thing about a wife.” The hate and disgust dripped from his voice.
I couldn’t listen to anymore. I ran back upstairs as quietly as I could. I threw myself into the bathroom in time to toss up the emptiness of my stomach.
My father was a horrible man. It was possible that I’d seen it before, but my mind wouldn’t let me believe it. And now I was all set to marry a man exactly like him. It was messed up on so many levels.Run!I screamed at myself.
I packed my suitcase; only vaguely aware of what I was frantically throwing in it. I went to the bathroom. I grabbed my hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and my favorite body wash and matching lotion. I paused to look around the room, trying to decide what else I needed. I grabbed an oversized purse and threw a bunch of books into it. It would give me something to keep my mind off of the mess I was in.
As soon as I knew they left, I frantically fled the place I’d called home my whole life. I tossed my stuff in the trunk of my car and with shaky hands, slipped into the driver’s seat. I had no plan. I had no clue on what to do now. Not wanting to give myself time to let all of that sink in, I quickly backed away from my childhood home and drove off without a second glance back.
Tears ran down my face as I made my way through the city. I knew as soon as they found out I was gone I would be cut off. My cards would be closed and I wouldn’t have any way to access money. I pulled up to the bank and took out as much money as I could. My parents made a habit of only keeping a certain amount in my account. I never really spent any, so it was never a big deal. Up until now. I knew the two thousand bucks wouldn’t last me long, but it would have to do. I needed to figure out a plan and soon.
In a daze, I ended up at that same run-down motel that I had been at with Diesel. It was cheap and I figured it would be the last place anyone would look for me. That was, if they were even going to try. I was able to get the room right next door to the one I had seen Diesel in. Maybe he would come back and maybe I would tell him.
But as the days ticked on, I felt that was all a stupid girl’s dream.
I was living in a motel. It sucked. The TV barely worked, most of the time it just flickered and I would miss half of what was happening. The water started to get cold after five minutes in the shower. I had to jiggle the handle on the toilet to get it to flush. And I was pretty sure that there was a rat living under my bed. I hadn’t seen him, but there was definitely something clawing away during the silent hours of the night. At one point I started talking to it and I even gave it a name. Teddy the rat. We had an understanding. I wouldn’t try to hit him with the biggest object I could find if he didn’t come out from under the bed. Oh, and the bed was like sleeping on a pile of rocks.
The diner food got old fast and I was pretty sure I had gained twenty pounds from it. I understood that I was pregnant, but I felt like the weight was finding new places to grow every day.
I still didn’t have a plan after two weeks. I went to the bar and received no help finding Diesel, again. I even worked up the nerve and asked the junkie working the front desk at the motel. It seemed everyone knew who I was talking about, but they all acted like they didn’t.
Four months pregnant, I found myself sitting in a dusty and cluttered private investigator’s office. I called around and this was about the only one I could afford. Looking around his messy office, I wondered if it would be a waste of money. File folders piled up on every surface in the tiny room. He didn’t even have a secretary. It was one room. The door off the street simply statedPrivate Investigatorin old, peeling letters.
Mr. Cage attempted to move papers around until there was a small area on his desk that was cleared. The desk itself looked cheap and worn. I flinched as he deposited more weight onto one corner and the whole thing looked like it was shaking. In my mind, I pictured it crippling to the ground.
I studied him as he moved about. I guessed he was ten years older than me; early to mid-thirties. Tall and slightly built. His hair was buzzed, but there was enough there that I imagined it would feel soft if I ran my fingers over it. His eyes were deep green and looked tired. Maybe sad, too. The stubble on his chin matched the length of his hair and both were a sandy blonde color. His button-up shirt was wrinkled but at least it looked clean.
“So, what can I do for you, Miss…” he said as he took a seat and looked at me, hands clasped on top of the desk in the newly cleared spot.
“You can just call me El-Elizabeth.” I realized at the last minute that it was probably smarter to not use my real name. I was paying in cash, so it shouldn’t have even mattered.
“Elizabeth,” he said dragging each syllable out like he knew I was lying. His eyes narrowed for a second, then it was like the whole thing was forgotten. “What do you need my services for? Husband cheating? Someone kick your dog?” He was obviously being sarcastic and a bit judgmental.
“I’m looking for someone,” I said, ignoring his jab and sitting up straighter.
“Alright, I’ll bite.” He pulled out a yellow notepad and rummaged around until he found a working pen. The third one seemed to write. “Who are we looking for?”
“Well, he’s about a foot, maybe more, taller than me,” I started. “Tattoos pretty much neck down. Lip ring. Black hair, blue eyes. Rides a motorcycle. I met him at a bar calledFate’s.” I shrugged trying to think of anything else I could say. Once everything was out of my mouth I realized how stupid I sounded.
“That’s it?” He stared at me blankly. I could see the irritation growing on his face. “Got a name at least?”
“Um, his name is Diesel. I don’t think that’s his real name, and I have no idea what that might be,” I supplied. “That was the name on his leather vest-jacket thing.” I didn’t sound confident at all. Something flashed in his face that made me pause.
“Vest? Thisvesthave anything else on it?”
“Oh, yeah!” I nodded frantically. How could I have forgotten? “I think he belongs to some club or something. It had a motorcycle on it, but it was weird like it was covered in armor. And there were blue flames coming out of it. There was also a patch under his name that said enforcer, or something.” Not that I had any idea what all of that meant.
