Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
I’m angry with myself for thinking that a guy like Diesel is what I’ve been missing. He’s too good to be true for a reason. He’s not good. Sure, he’s been here for me, and he did rescue me, but when it comes down to it, I’m nothing more than the chick who’s currently warming his bed.
“Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios?” a familiar feminine voice asks.
I stop and turn to find Kenna, half frowning and half grinning in my direction. “The better question is, who hasn’t pissed all over my Cheerios,” I mutter and keep marching across the parking lot.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.” Absolutely not, because then she might think Diesel means more to me than he does.
I sigh, and against my better judgment, I tell her what just went down. “He doesn’t believe me, and that’s fine. I don’t need him to believe me. I don’t care. This place isn’t my home anyway.”
She gets in her car, and I keep walking, fuming about everything that happened since my truck broke down and I had the misfortune to end up in this place. Then I notice Kenna following alongside me.
“You want a ride home?”
“My home is in Nevada, so thanks, but no thanks.” I have a full head of steam, and I’m in no fucking mood to be reasonable.
“Okay, smart-ass, do you want a lift back to Diesel’s or not?”
I stop and turn to Kenna. There’s something in her tone that starts to calm me down, so I say, “Yeah, I’d love a ride. Thank you.”
Still, I brace myself for the hard sell on the way back. I figure she’ll tell me all the reasons I’m wrong about Diesel, but surprisingly, she doesn’t.
“I’m sorry about what you went through. It’s shitty, especially when you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, but I hope you find a way to get through it all.”
“If that ever happens, I’ll let you know.”
“The nightmares don’t ever really go away,” she says quietly, flashing a sympathetic smile when I turn to her with shock in my eyes. “Yep. I’ve been there, too,” she sighs. “It’s not pretty, and I don’t want to go into it, but I know where you are right now, and I fucking hate it for you.”
“I’m sorry for you, too,” I whisper softly as she approaches Diesel’s condo. “Thanks for the ride, Kenna.”
“If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks,” I tell her and get out of the car as fast as I can before I do something crazy like cry in front of a chick I don’t even know. I wait until I’m inside Diesel’s place before I let the tears fall. I’m not much of a crier, but hearing that Kenna understands unlocks something inside of me. I let the tears flow while I plan my next move.
An hour later, I think that maybe a trip back to Riverbend is just what I need to put California and Diesel behind me. A healthy dose of my parents and their love will help me get over this hump faster.
“Yeah, that’s just what I need,” I say out loud and start making a mental list of what I need to do to make my getaway.
The clothes I’m wearing aren’t even mine, nor are the ones stacked on one of the shelves in Diesel’s closet, so I leave them behind. I have my purse with all of my credit cards, my bank card, driver’s license, and the keys to my rig. That’s all I really need.
With nothing more than that, I leave Diesel’s house, slipping the keyring he gave me into his mailbox, and then I make my way to the motel I stayed in the day I met him.
I wait until evening until I’m sure Diesel isn’t at Morgan International before I tell the ride-share driver where I’m going. The place is mostly quiet aside from a few security guards and some bikers I haven’t met yet. I’m just a driver picking up her ride, and no one is the wiser as they let me inside.
It’s already dark when I pull my truck out of Morgan International and put Angel Harbor—and Diesel—in my rearview mirror where they both belong.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Diesel
“You fucked up. Big time.” Lucky crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me.
I brush him off because he’s being just as dramatic as Cassidy. “Brooke is a dumb blonde, not a double agent. Cassidy still has nightmares. She’s not thinking clearly.”
I should know. I’m the one who’s with her every night. Holding her. Soothing her.
“I’m not so sure,” Lucky answers with a shrug. “Her reaction seems genuine.”
My entire body goes cold at my brother’s proclamation. “You thought Cassidy stole our shipment.”
“Yeah, and I was wrong. So what? I’m not saying I believe her, but her reaction is enough to convince me that we should look a little deeper into Brooke’s background. You fucked up, little brother. Fix it or don’t.” He shrugs and walks away, going inside the clubhouse and leaving me to my thoughts.