Page 53 of Diesel
“Crank’s a cunt.”
“He is,” Blade agrees with him, “but my point still stands, Riot. You’re lookin’ a little suspicious yourself right now.”
“I’ve earned my place at this table. You get points for bein’ here, for not runnin’ after Grub went full Terminator, but trust? That’s gotta be earned,brother.”
The laugh that bubbles out of Blade is sharp enough to cut through glass. “I waited to die in that parking garageat the hands of someone I once called ‘brother’. You don’t get to use that with me until you earn it. Not even to be a prick.”
“That’s the only reason you’re still breathin’.” Riot pauses then grins with no humour. “For now.”
“Fuck you,” he snarls. “If you’re callin’ me disloyal you’d best back that shit up.”
My fingers twitch on my thigh, itching to drag Riot over the table, but that won’t help my case. “Same,” I say. “If you think I’m working with Crank then say it. Quit dancing around it.”
“Are you?” This comes from Mace.
I drag my gaze from Riot to him. “No. But if I was, you wouldn’t know until I was ready to reveal it.”
“Comforting,” Riot mutters.
“I’m not here to hold your hand and make you feel better.”
“Then why are you here?”
I keep tapping my tongue behind my teeth, forcing the rest of my body to stay still. “Same fucking reason you are.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that.”
“All of you shut the fuck up.” Nic’s calm is evaporating. He looks like he’s debating dragging Riot over the fucking table.
Riot cuts his gaze to him. “No offence, but you ain’t prez yet, Nic, and this needs to be aired. I won’t go into battle with traitors at my back.”
Nic sits a little straighter in his seat. “You want to sit at my table, inmyclubhouse when this shit is done, then show some fuckin’ respect at this one. I’ve vetted each ofyou so if you don’t trust them, you don’t trust me.” He releases a heavy breath. “You don’t have to like each other. I don’t even give a fuck if you never talk to each other, but this is my club now and if you don’t like how I’m running things, who I’m bringin’ in then fuckin’ walk. Just know if you go, you don’t come back.”
The silence is unbearable. I keep tapping, trying to calm the fuzz in my brain. No one moves. No one breathes.
“Great. Now that we’re all on the same page,” Nic continues. “Let’s talk about how we get our chapter back.”
“I guess walkin’ up to Crank and sticking a knife in his throat isn’t an option,” Riot mutters.
“Ravage wants to handle it a little more subtly.”
I blink. Wait—Ravage? If our national prez is behind this then it’s not just a coup. It’s a revolution.
“What about Dash?” Mace asks, frowning. “He ain’t gonna be fit enough to come with us.”
“He’s gonna hate that.” Riot leans back in his chair, glaring at me for second before giving Nic his attention. “He’s gonna want revenge for what happened in that parking garage.”
I stare at Nic, watching as he transforms into the role he was always meant to have. He’s not Nicky, not anymore. He’s a general, leading his men into a battle. The change in him isn’t subtle. It’s stamped on his bones. He’s sitting taller, his shoulders squarer—like he’s already wearing the president patch.
“I wish we had him with us on this, but we can’t wait for him to heal. We gotta move forward without him. We can’t afford to wait.”
“You think Crank knows we’re comin’ for him?” Riot asks.
The room feels colder for a moment. The plans we’re making might have support from national and other chapters, but it’s still heavy. Unseating a president isn’t a small thing.
“Yeah,” Nic says. “He knows. The rats always know when the ship’s sinking.”
There’s a murmur of agreement around the table.
