Page 28 of Diablo

“Brewer didn’t say anything when I spoke to him earlier,” I said. In fact, he had greeted me courteously.

“He wouldn’t,” Tank replied. “His beef was with his Prospect. Not you. If Diablo had already been patched in, we could take disciplinary action against him. Set him straight. Without a patch…”

“Without a patch, it seems like he’s too easily swayed,” I finished for him.

Tank sighed and scrubbed a hand over his mouth, lowering his voice.

“Look, I don’t have details and I’m not asking. In my opinion, this should be strictly between you and Diablo. It can be complicated as hell to balance what your club wants compared to what your heart wants.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling torn. I’d been so preoccupied with keeping my own position in my club that I hadn’t given any consideration to the consequences Diablo would face.

“Where is he now?” I asked, my voice rough and barely-there.

I had to fix this. I had to make things right.

Tank gave a slight shake of his head.

“Not sure. He took off around noon. Haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

Shit. Even if I was able to coax Tank into giving me Diablo’s number, there was no guarantee that Diablo would answer, let alone hear me out. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted nothing to do with me now.

Tank reached into his kut pocket and pulled out a pen with a piece of paper. He twirled his finger.

“Turn around.”

I frowned, confused, but I did as he asked. Tank used my back as a table, pressing the small point of the pen into the shape of letters on the paper, moving across my shoulder blade. Then he stowed the pen in his pocket again and passed the paper to me.

“Directions to the lot where Diablo usually parks his camper. He moves around though. I can’t promise he’s still there.”

“Thank you so much,” I said, breaking into a run as I headed for my bike.

I could have sworn I heard Tank call behind me, “Good luck.”

***

Diablo strapped down a handful of boxes and crates to his truck bed when I pulled up. If I’d been even a few minutes later, I would have missed him entirely. He glanced at me and stopped, one hip cocked at an angle with a stance that indicated, I don’t give a shit what you have to say.

I shut off my bike and removed my helmet. A welcome cool breeze swept my hair off my neck. The silence was deafening.

“I heard about the vote,” I said.

Diablo grunted and turned back to the boxes.

“None of your concern, princess. I hope you didn’t ride all the way out here just to offer your sympathies because if you did, I’m not interested. You wasted your time for nothing.”

I glared at his back.

“I came to apologize.”

Diablo let out a short, bitter laugh.

“Not interested in that either.”

Growling under my breath, I climbed off my bike and set my helmet aside.

“Is that why you’re packing? Because you’re giving up?”

He pushed away from the truck and turned to face me, standing only a few short feet away.

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