Page 51 of Road to Absolution

CHAPTER 12

Secrets of Seen and Unseen

After telling Knuckles, the Ryder’s Secretary, to man the door, Diesel shut it and turned the TV off. He then stared with a million apologies before telling me, “I know how fragile a man’s mind can be after an attack.”

Appalled by his innuendo, I bitched, “I’m not fucking fragile.”

Ignoring me, Diesel continued, “I haven’t wanted to push. You need time with family, but I need anything you can remember from that night. Anything. Even if it seems minute to you, it may mean a lot to me. Any vests? Patches? You said a man threatened Delilah. Did he say anything else?”

Standing at the end of my hospital bed, I was being forced to think of the night someone tried to kill me. My mind was liked a trapped animal, searching for any way out. But there was no escape. Head lights… A shiver raked me as I remembered the bikes behind me… The truck losing control… The man pointing the gun—

Diesel was in front of me, holding my face in his hands. “You are to own that place, Mav. Don’t. Let. It. Own. You.”

Breathing hard, I told him, “He, uh—”

Like he had shaken Tucker’s shoulder, Diesel tussled my head.

“—said that, uh… I was an unlucky bastard. Umm, that I’d never make it home—”

Delilah whimpered, then rushed to me. Diesel released me and got out of her way, but his eyes stayed locked.

Wrapping her arms around my waist and burrowing into my chest, she whispered, “Maverick.”

Diesel, having pity but no time, gestured for me to give him more.

Holding my wife, I struggled to breathe and forced myself to remember. “Umm… He said I was a tough fucker to kill. Umm—” My eyes widened.

“What?” Diesel eagerly nodded, knowing I was remembering something important.

“He said, a Hell Fury wanted me dead.”

By the way Diesel’s jaw unhinged, and his eyes laced with recognition, it was clear he knew what a Hell Fury was. “Maverick, crucial shit right here. Did he say ‘revenge’ or that one wanted you dead?”

“My man,” I shook, “I was in and out of consciousness, big time, but if I had to put money on which one, I remember him saying a Hell Fury wanted me dead.” To know someone wanted me to stop pulling air into my lungs, was like trying to understand the mystical pull of gravity. “Mean anything?”

He pulled at his hair. “Means a fuck load. Like, a fucking fuck load, because they are technically…” we met eye to eye again, “ghosts.”

Dead.

And by his flared nostrils, Diesel knew this information personally.

Blowing out air, I asked, “What would these ‘ghosts’ have to do with me or Lilah?”

He was baffled. “That’s just it. Nothing.”

Sensing impending danger, my mind raced to make any sort of connection. “What about Art?”

His eyes lit up, but they weren’t happy. They were… terrified. “Art. That’s right. Fuck—Wait.” His head tilted. “How the hell do you know about Art and all this bullshit?”

“Pardon?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck….

Glaring, Diesel looked to Tuck and V, who of course were now searching for non-existent cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling.

Then he growled, “We’ll be discussing this later.”

Both of them started talking at the same time, trying to dig themselves out of a scary hole, but Diesel had stepped into MC President mode. And he wasn’t fooling around. “Enough!”

The room went quiet.