“It’s done. We can’t change it,” Diesel said.
“Butyoucan change.”
“If I trusted you motherfuckers, maybe I’d dial myself back. I trust you, Narci, Potter, Huck, and Bishop. Sometimes Pike and Zephyr. The rest of them? Not a fucking chance. Never.”
Uncle Christopher often shared with Diesel what he’d gone through at the club, long before he opened up to CJ. When the younger members targeted Diesel and encouraged the prospects to torment him, he kept it to himself. He’d lived on the streets and hadn’t known privilege and protection until Uncle Christopher took him in. He knew how to fight.
But calling Uncle Christopher ‘sir’ in front of fuckheads who didn’t know the meaning of the word only made it worse. Theresa had drilled it into Diesel to respect adults and Aunt Meggie fostered that idea. Besides, Uncle Christopher never told Dieselnotto do it, even though his biological children rarely said it.
Eventually, one of the brothers ordered the prospects to snatch Diesel and waterboard him. Torrin and Narci snuck awayand got Potter and Huck, who saved Diesel’s life. Two years later, he’d graduated from college, got accepted into law school, and began prospecting. Every workout, every practice with knife throwing and target practice, every breath deprivation while he stood under the shower or dove in a pool, was designed as part of his plan for revenge.
He didn’t fucking care who knew what drove him. Something inside him was already broken, but whatnomotherfucker would do was make him suffer for respecting a man who’d taken him in. He couldn’t just kill those fuckheads. Even as a club member. One by one, he’d provoked all five of the ones who’d fucking tortured him—and then he made a fucking statement with the gruesomeness of their deaths.
Torrin clasped his shoulder and brought Diesel back to the present. “It’s over, D. You took them out.”
Diesel nodded.
“You want the blow or not?”
“No.”
Smiling, Torrin thumped Diesel’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, motherfucker. I’ll follow your wishes and snort a line for you.”
Rolling his eyes, Diesel shook his head and headed out of the room, expecting to find Jana at one of the tables.
When he didn’t, Rebel’s face rose in his head. She must’ve turned Jana away. Anger roared through him and Diesel stormed out of the club, heading home to chew Rebel out.
Rebel had so many pretty clothes. More than Jana had ever seen anywhere except a catalog or a department store.
“What did you have in mind to wear?” Rebel asked, standing in the middle of her walk-in closet after Diesel insisted Jana ask Rebel to borrow an outfit for his birthday barbeque. “A dress? A skirt? Jeans?”
Jana shrugged, uncertain, inadequate when face-to-face with Rebel. But she’d always been insufficient, especially to her mother. In Amy’s eyes, Jana could never do right. Aunt Sera didn’t feel that way, but Jana hadn’t seen her in at least a decade. She wasn’t even sure if Mama’s sister was still alive.
Rebel indicated her clothes with a wave of her hand. “Whatever you want to wear,” she prompted, slight impatience in her tone. “Pick it out or tell me and I’ll get it for you.”
“I don’t know what to choose,” Jana admitted, glancing at a rack of dresses in all colors and various lengths. “I don’t know how expensive your clothes are. Suppose I get barbeque sauce on them?”
Rebel frowned.
“Do you really want to lend me your clothes? Are you doing it for Diesel? Or do you feel sorry for me?”
“Instead of asking me all these questions, why don’t you do both of us a favor and pick a fucking outfit?”
When Diesel called her and told her to pack her things because it was moving day, Jana had never been happier. She’d finally be with him as she’d always dreamed, but never really thought possible. The reality was a nightmare. Diesel was meaner than he’d ever been to her, almost like her johns used to be, and he rarely visited. Worse, he’d just stuck her in the treehouse without much to do, except crave drugs and be miserable.
All she could do was cry most of the time. Tabitha caught her at a weak moment, something Jana regretted because she only disappointed Diesel more. Before she moved in, she had such hope for her and Diesel. Mama kept her busy with preliminary wedding lists. Daddy was happier than she’d ever remembered him being. Diesel was taking her on real dates, listening to her and seeing her as a real person. And Jana felt at peace, knowing she’d get into rehab and build a life with the man she loved.
Diesel didn’t even want her to mention her drug use, even though Meggie knew.
He also wanted Rebel. He’d never said it, but the minute Rebel walked into a room, he focused on her. Jana understood. Her new sister was wild and free, dramatic in her beauty, attitude, and presence, even as young as she was.
If Jana could think a little clearer, she’d ask Rebel for help. Or she’d study her so she’d mimic her actions until she felt so secure. Or, maybe, she’d just make a fool of herself and everyone would tease her.
The way Rebel stood up to Diesel was admirable. Jana could never. She’d offer her opinion. Just a few weeks ago, she’d asked Diesel to meet with a potential client that was texting him while they were on a date at Tee’s.
But looking Diesel in the eye, standing toe-to-toe with him, and yelling in his face? Never. She had no money, nothing to do,and nowhere else to go. Her parents wouldn’t turn her away, but if Diesel broke their engagement, they would be so upset and disappointed in her.
Faced with Diesel’s annoyance or anger, Jana feared his rejection more than anything, even her unhappiness. For the time being, she could only cry and remind him how much she loved him.
