Page 52 of Diesel
Prick.
Nicky sits at the head like he’s already claimed the throne. He’s also the calmest person in the room. The eye of this fucked up hurricane. Everyone else is dancing on a razor wire.
Blade and Riley are the last to come into the room. The kid’s gaze darts around, like he’s expecting someone to tell him to piss off any second now, but when no one says shit, he takes the chair furthest from Nic.
Blade isn’t so shy. He positions himself at Nic’s right hand, and next to me. I wish he’d chosen somewhere else to sit. I’m already under a microscope.
“I’m not sitting at this table with men who don’t trust me,” I say.
Riot’s jaw goes solid, his gaze sliding to me.
“Funny, coming from the guy who vanished into thin air when shit went to hell.”
I tilt my head slightly, my fingers twitching against my thighs, like I’m tapping morse code to calm my brain. I want to tell him to get fucked, but I don’t give him the ammunition he’s looking for. “I left before any of that went down.”
“Convenient,” Riot drawls in an infuriating tone that makes me want to punch him in the throat.
Keep tapping.
Keep focused.
Makenna is out there alone.
“You trust him and not me?” I jut my chin toward Blade.
I feel him shift in his seat, but I keep my eyes on Riot. “You got somethin’ to say to me, Diesel, or do you just like hearing the shit that comes out of your mouth?”
“I’ve got plenty to say,” I mutter.
Riot’s face twitches, like he’s trying to hold back the storm building inside him, but he keeps that lazy smile on his face. The one he usually wears before he starts throwing punches. “I don’t trust either of you, but I trust him more than you right now. Blade took a fuckin’ bullet for his brothers while you were off playin’ house.”
There’s no answer I can give to smooth that over, so I keep quiet.
“Enough,” Nic snaps. “I don’t care what issues you all have with each other, but if you’re sitting at this table, I need you focused on what’s coming, not fighting with each other.”
Blade grips the edge of the table, ignoring Nic, his nostrils flaring. “I’d really like to know what the fuck I’ve done to make all of you doubt me. You think I don’t see the looks? The suspicion?”
I watch his face carefully for something, anything. I’m good at reading people, feeling that shift in tone that happens when someone is lying or telling the truth, but this guy is a fucking vault. I can never tell what he’s thinking or doing.
Riot interlaces his fingers on the table. “It’s because you’re shady as fuck, Blade. You’re always where you shouldn’t be, always creeping around Crank like his little bitch. Always got one hand in somethin’ dirty. But hey, at least you were there when it counted. That keeps you breathin’.” His eyes slide to me. A thousand accusations levelled in my direction. “For now.”
“Fuck you,” Blade snaps before I can respond. Bladecuts a look toward Mace that could slice through steel. “Dash was there too. So was Riley. You accusing them of being Crank’s bitch too?”
“They both earned their place at this table.” Riot’s smile is vicious. “Do you want to tell the group what the fuck deals you’re doing?”
He scowls. “Fuck me, you’re basing the entire idea that I’m dirty on some back handed handshake I’m doing?”
“Dirty is dirty. Doesn’t matter if it’s a handshake or an open handed slap.”
Blade scoffs, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, I did a few side deals on some jobs. That doesn’t make me a fuckin’ traitor.”
“There’s plenty of people wearin’ this patch that would disagree with you,” Mace says.
Tap, pause. Tap, pause. Tap, pause.
It’s not helping, not really, but I keep doing it because if I don’t, I’ll explode and my loyalty is already balancing on a knife’s edge.
“And yet you three were the ones sneaking around planning to dethrone a sitting president.” Blade scoffs. “You don’t think that’s a little… traitorous?”
