Page 14 of Protective Biker

Diesel

"What do you mean she quit?" I asked Scout the next day. I thought I was giving Brandy time to cool off last night, but obviously, I did the wrong thing. I should have tracked her ass down when she refused to answer the phone. I thought for sure that she would calm down, and we would be able to talk this out. All I had to do was to explain to her, and I'm sure that she would've understood.

I worried all night about my response to her, knowing what I said was wrong. Scout is nodding his head, running his hand through his beard. "She called this morning, said that she was quitting, and before I could ask any questions, she had hung up and she's not answering any of my phone calls," he says.

I grab the keys to my bike and walk outside. Standing next to it, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial her number again. I don't leave a message this time. I've left enough. I stuff the phone back into my pocket and drive across town to where she lives.

I barely get stopped and I’m jumping off the bike and running up the front steps of the duplex. I knock on the front door and stand back with my hands on my hips and wait for someone to answer. The door is shut tightly, and the drapes are all pulled, so I can't see inside. I knock again, but still no one answers. I walk off the porch and around to the back. There's a small outbuilding that is open, and I make my way to it. Inside there's an old man sitting in a chair, whittling a piece of wood. He looks at me as I stop at the entrance to his building, and his eyes widen. I'm sure he's taking in my large frame, and I try to look less intimidating than I am. "Are you Brandy's uncle?"

He tilts his head to the side and looks at me. "What's it to you?"

I put my hands in the front pockets of my jeans and stare at him. "Have you seen her?"

He shrugs. "I saw her yesterday. Said she was leaving town for a bit."

Fuck, I think I've really messed up if she's quit her job and left town to get away from me. I ask the old man, "Did she say where she was going?"

He shrugs. "I'm not telling you. It's not like her to just run off. So I'm assuming she's running from you."

I nod. "We had a misunderstanding, but I'm here to make it right."

He goes back to whittling the piece of wood in his hand and shrugs his shoulders as if he doesn't have a care in the world. "Yeah, well, I'm not telling you where she's at."

I'm beyond frustrated, and I want to scream and punch the wall, but I know that's not going to get me anywhere with the old man. I notice the chair across the tiny room and go over and sit in it. There's a pile of wood on the ground between us, and I pick it up and then pull a knife from my pocket. I sit there for a few minutes, taking strips of wood from the piece in my hand.

It's only once I have the outside clean that I look up at the old man. He tries to appear as if he's not watching me as he gets back to his own whittling. "You ever say something to somebody and realize as soon as it leaves your mouth that you never should have said it?"

He nods. "Plenty of times."

I keep working on the piece of wood, even though there's no way it's going to turn into anything great. I'm too frustrated to even concentrate on what I'm doing, but I keep my hands busy. "Well, that's exactly what I did with Brandy. I said something I shouldn't have, and she took it to heart. You know her, you probably know her better than anyone. She's running from me because she's scared.” I hold my hands up. “Not because she's scared of me but scared of the way I make her feel. She doesn't trust me, but she should. I wouldn't hurt her for anything."

The old man doesn't look up at me; he just shrugs his shoulders. "It looks to me like you already did. She was holding back tears here last night before she ran out of here."

"Fuck," I mutter. "I've really fucked this up. You got a phone?" I ask him.

He nods and pats his front pocket.

"Will you put my number in? If you hear anything, if she needs anything, I want you to call me." He takes the phone from his pocket and holds on to it tightly as if I'm going to reach across and grab it from him. I recite my number to him, and he puts it into his phone.

"What's the name?" he asks.

"I'm Diesel," I tell him.

He nods, types into his phone, and then puts the phone back into his pocket. "No promises. I'll only call you if she says I can. I've not always done Brandy right, but I'll never betray her."

I know I can't ask more from him than what I already have. I drop the piece of wood back into the basket, close my knife, and pocket it before standing up.

I stop at the door before walking through it. "Seriously, if she needs anything, call me."

But the old man doesn't answer; all he does is nod his head. He keeps whittling his piece of wood, dismissing me.

I walk out of the building and back to my bike. I have no idea where or how I can find her, but I know I can start at the club.

We have some of the best tech guys in the nation. Hell, if I need to, I can call Walker in Whiskey Run. His guys can definitely find her with their national security clearance. I make it back to the clubhouse in record time and ask to speak to the Pres.

He sits down with me, and I start to tell him the story of what happened. I don’t leave anything out and don’t sugarcoat it. At the end, I plead with him to help me find her.

"Brother," he says, shaking his head. "It's one thing if we thought she was in danger, but she's not. She left here on her own volition. We can't use the resources we have to find her if she doesn't want to be found. Give her a few days, give her some time. I'm sure she's going to reach out to you."

I’m pissed, and I wouldn’t normally talk back, but I’m over this now. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He shakes his head and looks at me with pity. I'm not happy with Pres at all, but before I do something I regret, I get up, slam my hand on the table, and walk out in frustration. Last night, I thought it was a small argument. Fuck, I was hoping for some makeup sex. Never did I imagine that it would be the end of our relationship. If I’d known, there's no way I would've let her leave my room. Now all I can do is hope that she comes back to me.

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