Page 56 of Diesel
I don’t want to leave her, but I have to. I tap the tips of my finger and thumb together as I memorise every inch of her face. The curve of her jaw, the fullness of that mouth that ruins me every time she opens it. Her lips press together, like she’s trying not to fall apart. She doesn’t cry, but she’s close to losing it.
I don’t blink or breathe or think. I just stare at her like if I look hard enough, I can carry her with me through whatever is ahead.
Then I give her one last kiss. One last moment.
It’s not goodbye because I’m coming back. I promised her I would. But it’s a ‘just in case’.
Then I step back, even though it breaks me to do it and I walk out of that house, away from my wife, my soul without looking back. I can’t. If I do I won’t leave and I have to.
The air is too sharp when I step out of the house. The door slams shut behind me like a guillotine. This is it. No more delays. No more promises. Just the final battle.
The driveway is overcrowded with cars and bodies. Two white vans are now parked behind the other vehicles.
I keep my distance from Riot and the others, watching as our national president climbs out of the front van.
Ravage is built like he can move mountains with his bare hands and he carries himself like nothing can touch him. A man used to taking control, giving orders and them being followed.
Behind him is Nox, vice president of the London Sons. He’s no less intimidating, and his sharp eyes take everyone in with a sweeping glance. When they flick over me, I swear it feels like he sees down to my bones.
Ravage swaggers over to Nic like he owns the air between them.
His eyes narrow a fraction, like he’s scanning Nic’s mind. “You good?”
Nic nods. “Still standin’.”
Both men are steady, strong, a force to be reckoned with. Two giants facing a common enemy together. Our national president, and the man we’ve put a stolen crown on.
“Ready to do this?”
There’s a beat, not of doubt, but just to weigh the gravity of what we’re doing. Nic sighs. “Ready to get it done.”
Ravage grins, then pulls him into a hug. It’s fierce, and a message. It’s respect and it’s permission. Nic has the support of the Sons, not just the men standing behind him.
“Your boy Dash okay?”
“No, but he will be. How many men you brought?”
“Enough to cause some shit.” He grimaces. “I hate that it’s come to this.”
“Me too,” Nic says.
Ravage flicks his gaze to me. He strips me down to the bone with just his eyes, but he’s done assessing me. He steps in close enough that I can smell leather and oil. I don’t flinch or blink as his head tilts just a fraction to the side.
“I don’t like secrets,” he says, “and I don’t like liars.” My chest tightens into a knot. “Not when you’re wearin’ my club on your back, Diesel.”
I hold his gaze, my eyes burning. “I protected my wife,” I say quietly.
“What about your club?”
“I’m still here. Still fighting for my club.”
His eyes narrow and my jaw tics. I want to tell him I’d make the same choice every fucking time. That he would’ve done the same if it was Sasha in Makenna’s place. But I say nothing. Because this isn’t the time, and Ravage doesn’t give two fucks about my excuses, only loyalty.
His expression doesn’t change. “You lie again and I’ll have your kutte. Maybe your life.”
He moves on like he didn’t just threaten to kill me, thewarning hanging in the air like smoke. I let the breath trapped in my lungs out just enough to ease the pain in my chest.
And when Ravage calls for everyone to move out, I follow because this is still my club and despite what everyone thinks, I will bleed for the patch.
