“I don’t want Jana upset,” Diesel replied. “As for the coke, I’d love some.”
“Just say the word. Narci still laments losing you as his customer.”
“It’s my birthday,” Diesel decided. “One hit won’t hurt me.”
“I agree. It’ll be my birthday gift to you.”
The prospect of a line invigorated Diesel more than anything had in days. He’d made it to thirty, a milestone, when he probably shouldn’t have seen his sixteenth birthday. The way he’d hurt Rebel plagued him. High, he wouldn’t care. Dead, he wouldn’t know. Then, Axel’s face rose in his head. Aunt Meggie and Uncle Christopher’s. They expected more of him. Even if Rebel and CJ hated him, Axel, Aunt Meggie, and Uncle Christopher didn’t. They loved him.
Jana needed him.
“Fuck, I want to, bro,” Diesel admitted, his change of heart a little disconcerting especially because of the reasons. Not Uncle Christopher’s threats, but because he felt as if he mattered to them. “Run a line for me.”
Torrin considered him intently. As much as Diesel liked the motherfucker, he didn’t give a fuck if he approved of his decision or not.
“How’s Rebel and Jana getting along?”
“Famously,” Diesel drawled.
“In your fucking dreams. Rebel probably wants your fucking blood.”
“I wasn’t put on this earth to please that brat,” Diesel growled. “She has to abide by my choices and the woman in my life.”
“Yeah, like she had to abide by us talking to her after CJ overdosed? Remember how that fucking worked out? She looked right through us and pretended she was fucking hard of hearing. She still barely talks to us.”
“She’ll come around,” Diesel said with a shrug.
“So have you decided against playing with your nose because of Reb?”
“Of course not, asshole. As if I give a fuck how she feels about me.”
“Okay, fuckhead.”
“Was that a fucking attempt to change my mind again?”
“Perhaps.”
Diesel glared at him.
Torrin raised his hands in supplication and heaved in a breath. “Real talk, D. As much as I miss partying with you and the club bitches, I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t point out how fucking good you’ve been doing off the drugs.”
Diesel shoved his hands in his pockets. Uncle Christopher offered Diesel a chance at a future with Rebel. All he needed to do was prove he was worthy of her. It was one thing for CJ to have said the same thing. But Uncle Christopher? It scared the shit out of Diesel. If hedidn’tstraighten the fuck out and, somehow, Rebel and him got together when she turned eighteen, Diesel was still dead. Uncle Christopher would kill him rather than allow him to repeatedly hurt his daughter.
His actions toward her would be a complete strikeout. Remembering Rebel’s hurt and disillusionment as she realized what he’d done to her only increased Diesel’s need for a hit.
“Outlaw won’t only pinion your hand, bro,” Torrin continued. “I still got mad respect for you over that situation. I would’ve been sobbing like a bitch.”
“I know, fuckhead.” Torrin’s pain tolerance was zero. “What’s your point?”
“If I was Outlaw’s son, I wouldn’t want to disappoint him any further.”
“I don’t want to disappoint him or Aunt Meggie at all,” Diesel acknowledged, although he knew he had. “I never meant to.”
“Then ignore your fucking urge. It isn’t worth it. You took a lot of shit for your relationship with Outlaw. Motherfuckers, me included, were jealous. But you showed you were one of us and didn’t hide behind the Caldwell name. Fuck, you became more brutal than Johnnie, Outlaw, and Mortician combined.”
“I didn’t have a fucking choice, did I, asshole?”
Torrin flushed, unable to meet Diesel’s gaze just as always whenever this subject came up.
