Page 41 of Diesel
Nic’s mouth curls into a smile, but there’s no humour in it. I can see the tension bleeding into his eyes. “And poured petrol on top of it.” He leans forward on the table, the fries forgotten, the world around us too. “I killed him, and I don’t regret it, but if you think I’m a traitor for putting him in the ground then this is going to be a different conversation altogether.”
My skin prickles, the fine hairs on my nape standing up.
“I don’t know what I think. I wasn’t there.”
His eyes narrow. “The man was a snake, Diesel. He lured three brothers into a parking garage and watched as a group of strangers tried to kill them. Patched brothers. A prospect. Men loyal to the Sons.” The muscle in his cheek contracts. “Dash is in the hospital with a hole in his gut. Nearly bled out before getting the chance to meet his child. Blade took a bullet meant to kill him. And Riley was on his knees ready to meet the other side when we rolled up. I had about three seconds to make a choice and I chose the brothers on their knees looking at execution. You think that’s murder? Me protecting my club family?”
Cold slithers through me as that scene imprints into my mind. Had I been there I would’ve done exactly what Nic did, but I want to press a little, see if he bleeds.
“I think there is process for reason.”
His brow flicks up. “You think I should have taken this to Crank? Asked Grub nicely not to kill three brothers in cold blood?”
“No.”
His eyes scan my face, as if he’s trying to draw out lies in hiding beneath the surface. Good luck with that. My expression is a locked vault.
“I did what I had to,” he says eventually. There’s a hint of remorse, just for a second, but it’s there. “This club is stitched into my veins, Diesel. I was born into it, lived and breathed every beat of it even before my father put that prospect cut on my back. So, fuck process. I did what I had to do at that moment. I protected brothers who were staring down death, and I don’t regret a single moment of it.”
I pick up a fry, dipping it in the milkshake and then the sauce, just to keep my hands busy, to give my mind a moment to think. “And now you want to know what side of the line I’m standing on.”
“No.” That surprises me. “I already know.”
“Presumptuous.”
There’s a beat of silence while he just studies me like I’m a specimen under a microscope. “Kid, I brought you into this club. I watched you grow in it. Maybe no one else knows you, but I do.”
He’s probably right about that, even though me and Dash had bonded over our near-death experience. “So why send Riot? Why the big show?”
There’s a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “He was meant to bring you back, not cause shit.”
I snort. “Trouble in the ranks already? That bodes well.”
“The guy’s on edge,” Nic snaps. “Can you blame him? He’s got a lot to lose.”
“We all have shit to lose, Nicky.”
“Yeah. And that’s why I need to hear this from you directly. Are you going to fight with us? I wouldn’t have doubted it before, but things are…complicatednow.”
Because of Makenna. “Nothing’s changed.”
He leans forward on the table, menacing. “Everything’s changed. You have priorities that ain’t just the club now.”
It’s a fair point, but it doesn’t stand up considering everyone else has family, old ladies. “So do half the brothers you’ve recruited into your little coup.”
When he smiles, he flashes his teeth, like a dog snarling. “They never kept those priorities hidden.”
I pop a fry in my mouth as if I don’t have a care in the world, but there’s a boulder sitting in my stomach. “Respectfully, I don’t give a shit about anyone else.” I fold my hands together on the table and lean in. “I’m going to say this once and once only. Anything happens to her,anything, and there won’t be a hole deep enough for any of you to hide in. I’ll make what Trick did after he lost Mara look like a fucking yoga retreat.”
He takes that in for a moment, letting it sink in, letting the tension breathe between us. “No one will touch her. The club doesn’t make a habit of hurting women. You know that.”
“Yeah, because everyone’s really giving a shit about sticking to the bylaws right now.”
He wraps his fingers around the mug in front of him. The coffee looks cold, and he doesn’t try to drink it.
“Shit’s a mess,” he agrees. “But we can fix it.”
“Yeah, and what comes out of the ashes, Nic?”
