“No, what’s the matter?”
“Diesel and I were together last night, and he just flew out of here.”
“Okay.”
“And there’s something else. I heard him on the phone talking to someone—maybe a woman. And he said, ‘Don’t tell Martina. Let’s keep this between you and me.’”
“Huh, well, that could mean?—”
“That he’s breaking up with me.”
“Not really.”
“You don’t believe it’s innocent either,” I counter.
“Just don’t spiral. Let me get dressed, and I’ll come over.”
I should’ve told her not to, but I was desperate, and I was spiraling. Big time.
CHAPTER 27
MARTINA
Fifteen minutes later, Diesel still isn’t back. My phone buzzes, and I frantically swipe at the screen and answer it.
“You better get downstairs, now.” Maxie’s tense voice fills the phone.
“What’s the matter?” I almost don’t want her to answer.
“It’s not something I want to talk about over the phone. Just get down here. I’m in the back lot.”
I rush into the bedroom and throw on clothes as my brain shoots out every horrible scenario possible.
Maxie found Diesel with another woman.
Diesel is making Maxie do his dirty work and will tell me he’s breaking up with me.
Diesel is badly hurt, or has opened his stitches and is bleeding out.
I bolt out of the apartment, down the stairs and out the back door of the club. The bright sun blinds me, and when my eyes adjust, I see Maxie, Marisol and the other Harlots along with all the Royal Bastards.
“What’s going on?”
Diesel steps forward, and my heart jacks up to a dangerous level.
He holds out his hand, and the crowd parts around us. We walk farther until I’m standing next to a matte black and cobalt blue Harley Street Glide.
I look between the motorcycle and Diesel.
“You like it?” he asks.
“It’s beautiful. Whose is it?”
“It’s yours, babe,” Diesel says, like it’s the most logical thing in the world.
“Mine?”
“All yours.”
