Diesel (Dead Souls MC Book 5) Read online

“Dean.”

  “Diesel”

  “Good to see you again,” I said.

  “Wanna get down to it?” Dean asked.

  “Fine by me. The sun’s about to set anyway, and you know how hard it is navigating this shit at night.”

  “Ran my bike into many of these mountains crevices trying to get the fuck out.”

  My eyes danced along the man I hadn’t seen in years. And I still couldn’t look him in the face without thinking of Brynn. My heart weighed heavy, and I wanted to get this meeting over as quickly as I could. The sun was setting, my guys had families to get back to, and I had a woman to forget about again.

  Though I knew I’d never be able to truly forget her.

  Dean’s hands gripped his handlebars a little too tightly. Almost to the point where his fingers were white. And his carotid. It pulsed a little too erratically. I forced myself to look into his eyes. The eyes he shared with his daughter. I saw how they darted around. How they seemed wider than usual. I looked down at his feet and saw him pressing into the dirt. Almost like he was trying to contain himself.

  Dean was in distress.

  “Got anything you want to tell me?” I asked.

  I felt all of my men go on high alert.

  “Look, you need muscle. A club you can trust. We got you there, one hundred percent,” Dean said. “But I gotta have something in return.”

  “I figured. Dealing with you always comes with a price.”

  He winced at my words, like I’d punched him in the stomach.

  “What’s the price, Dean?” I asked.

  “You gotta become family. Actual family. We protect our own. That’s how we work. It’s part of our code. You want the Dead Souls to be protected? You become our family. Two clubs connected.”

  My eyes narrowed before dropping to his pulse again. It practically fluttered against his fucking neck. Something was up. Something was wrong. And I wasn’t agreeing to anything with this man until I knew exactly what I was about to get myself into.

  “Define ‘family’,” I said. “If you are talking about the Dead Souls being patched into the Black Hornets, that ‘aint –”

  “You gotta marry in, Diesel. Simple as that.”

  My heart froze. Marry in? What the fuck was he talking about?

  Grave snickered behind me and I held up my hand. I looked back at Dean and I could practically feel the waves of anxiety pouring off of him.

  “You’re distressed,” I said. “Nervous. Agitated. Unwilling to have a lengthy discussion, which means you’re in a rush. Who needs protection and what the fuck’s going on, Dean?”

  “You want my help or not?” the old man asked.

  “Apparently, not as much as you need mine,” I said.

  Dean sighed, raking his hand through his hair before he leveled his gaze at me. I could tell how serious this was to him.

  “You’re not gonna like it,” he said.

  “Try me,” I said flatly.

  I knew my guys needed this. Our club needed this. Outside of marrying a girl half my fucking age, I was willing to do just about anything to dig my club out of this fucking hole so they could get on with their lives. Their futures and the futures of their families all relied on me doing whatever the fuck it was I had to do in order to secure their safety and privacy.

  “You’ll become family by marrying my daughter, Diesel.”

  Everyone’s eyes turned to me as I cocked my head. What the fuck was he talking about?

  “Don’t think I heard you right. Try that again,” I said.

  “Marry Brynn, keep her safe, and you got yourself a fucking deal.”

  “I’m sorry. I could’ve sworn you told me--”

  “Brynn’s alive, Diesel.”

  In the span of ten seconds, my entire world flipped on its head. Flashes of her funeral crept into the forefront of my mind. I felt my men step up beside me, readying themselves for whatever punishment I had to dole out. I heard some of them talking. Asking questions. Picking brains. But all I saw in my mind’s eye was her grave. Her tombstone. Her closed-casket funeral.

  All I heard in my ears was her sweet, soft little voice.

  “What the fuck do you mean, marry Brynn?” I asked darkly. “She’s dead.”

  My eyes hardened on Dean as everyone stopped talking.

  “She isn’t, Diesel She never has been.”

  In a flash, I had my gun out of my holster and aimed right between the Dean’s eyes. I forced my hand to stay steady as my eyes grew wide with fury. My heart raced. My legs locked. My shoulders rolled back and every single part of my body rose to the challenge. There was no way Brynn was still alive. This old man was playing a game with me. And I wanted to know why.

  I buried Brynn.

  I buried her ten years ago.

  “Diesel, you sure you want to do this?” Rock said as he drew his own gun.

  “Who the fuck is he talking about, Diesel?” Brewer asked.

  “Fuckin’ hell, Diesel. Put the damn piece in your pocket,” Dean said.

  “You better start talking Dean,” Grave said, pulling his own gun out.

  I watched the Black Hornets step up to the plate to defend their President, but Dean held out his hand. All of them stopped moving as I cocked my gun, ready to take aim and splatter the contents of his head across the side of the fucking mountain. But deep down inside--in a place I had refused to acknowledge for years--was a spark of happiness that ignited dying embers in my gut.

  “I still go to her grave,” I said breathlessly.

  Dean got off his bike and started walking towards my gun.

  “I still go to her grave!” I roared.

  My voice bounced off the caverns of the mountaintops, echoing through the desert as Dean pressed his head to the barrel of my gun. His eyes dripped with sorrow. With hurt. With pain.

  I clenched my jaw to keep it from trembling.

  “Every Thursday morning, I ride by that fucking cemetery and I put her favorite flowers and her favorite cup of tea on her goddamn grave, Dean. Pale yellow lilies and green chamomile tea. Every. Damn. Thursday. Because Thursdays were our day, Dean. Ours. Mine and Brynn’s. Our afternoon to spend lying out on the football field after school.”

  “She’s not dead, Diesel. We faked her death to get her out of town,” Dean said.

  “Why?” I asked as my gun began to tremble.

  He went to raise his hand to my wrist, but I pressed the barrel deeper into his skin.

  “You’ll answer me now, or you die,” I said flatly.

  “It was because of Rex. Before Rex got involved with the Black Saddles, he was part of a local street gang,” Dean said. “He somehow got high up in the ranks and started to stir up shit. Started fires. Spray painted buildings. Even killed a few innocent citizens to prove a damn point.”

  “Yeah, I was your fucking prospect for the Black Hornets then. I was well aware of what Rex was doing. But what the hell does that have to do with Brynn being alive?” I ground out.

  Dean held up his hands slightly. “I know you were aware of Rex then. But what I never told you was how he turned his sights on Brynn.”

  I could no longer contain the trembling in my hand.

  “At first, it was nothing really. I chased him away from Brynn’s window a couple of times. Told him not to come back. Shit like that. But then, he started following her. He started telling everyone that would listen that Brynn would be his. I thought he was just a punk ass kid. Until he tried to rape her.”

  “Holy shit,” Knox said behind me.

  “He followed her. Stalked her after swim practice. She was leaving school late and he attacked her at her car. I got there just in time to save her, but he shot her. I drove her back to the lodge.”

  “The shootout,” I said, as all the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. “That’s why it happened. But you said she died.”

  “It wounded her. Bad. Rex followed me after I saved her from him. He got his gang involved and they shot up our lodge. A bu
nch of fucking teenagers fucked our world up. Brynn was shot twice and did a two week stint in the hospital because of that asshole.”

  “So, you… what? Faked her death to get her away from Rex?” I asked.

  “That piece of shit was willing to kill her if he couldn’t have her. Willing to kill all of us to get to my daughter. So, yeah. I got her better, faked her death, helped her get her GED. Then fucking sent her off to college. I haven’t seen her since. Once Rex thought she actually died, he stopped attacking our club. We chased out Rex’s gang, leaving him with no support. After a few years, our guard died down and the club focused on other shit. None of us knew he joined up with the Black Saddles.”

  My arm finally fell back to my side as my entire form went numb.

  Oh my fucking god.

  Brynn was alive.

  “She ain’t dead, Diesel And she’s being stubborn. She wants to come home, and I don’t blame her. Nothing really has happened in the past ten years. Until now. Until your phone call about Rex. The second you mentioned his name, I knew he never fucking left this area. I know I can’t stop her. But the second she touches ground in Redding, she will be a damn target. You marry her, she’ll have protection from both clubs since she would be family to both, and we give you what you need.”

  Silence blanketed all of us as the sun finally set beyond the horizon. Darkness shrouded us. So much so that all I could see of Dean were the whites of his eyes. My heart felt like it had stopped permanently. My back began to sweat. I holstered my gun and turned my eyes up to the stars, trying to digest what all had just been told to me.

  But there were only two things I could focus on.

  Brynn was alive and she was coming back.

  Chapter 4

  Brynn

  I stood in the middle of my childhood home as tears rushed my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. After ten years of being gone, I was finally home. I drew in a deep breath and took in the familiar smoky scent. I smiled at the idea of my father still smoking cigars in his old age. Sitting on that damn leather couch that had rips and tears in it for days, smoking his cigars, chugging his beer, and holding me close to his side. I looked at the corner where we used to set up our Christmas tree. Every year, three weeks before Christmas, we’d go to the Christmas Tree lot on the other side of town and spend an hour drinking hot chocolate, picking out a tree, and sawing it down. He taught me how to use a saw when I was seven. How to push it and pull it and work together as a team to get what we both wanted.

  Then we’d take it home, decorate it, and eat deformed Christmas cookies while the lights twinkled and filled our entire downstairs.

  I glanced at the pictures on the wall. Pictures of my mother when she was still alive. She died giving birth to me. Well, me and my twin sister. She went into shock during labor because of a tear in her uterus that caused her to bleed out. I was the first one born, and my twin sister suffocated against the collapsed part of her uterus. In the span of an hour, my father lost his beautiful bride and one of his daughters. Which was why he’d always been so protective of me.

  I was all he had left.

  It was why he jumped at the opportunity to get me out of town the second he had an opening to do so.

  My eyes watered at the picture of my father and my mother together. She was eight months pregnant and his arms were wrapped around her as far as they could go. It was the only family picture we had of all of us. Myself and my sister ripe in her stomach while my father held her close. Not a thing in my childhood home had been changed, or rearranged. Not a thing was out of place or switched up. The couch was still the couch and the television sat where it always did.

  It was as if my entire home was encased in a pit of amber. Locked off from the rest of the world and existing in its own singular moment.

  Holy hell, I’d missed my home.

  I heard the front door open and I went dashing down the hallway. My father opened his arms to me and I barreled into them as tears rushed my cheeks. I buried my face into the crook of his neck as he held me close, squeezing me so tight it became hard to breathe. I collapsed into him. Into the strength of his body. Even at sixty years old, the man was stronger than ever. He buried his face into my hair. Breathed me in deeply as he curled his fingers into my body.

  Almost as if he was trying to convince himself I was there.

  “I’ve missed you, Daddy,” I said with a whisper.

  “You have no fuckin’ clue how glad I am to see you,” my father said.

  I stood there for a long time, simply embracing my father. I placed my nose against his leather cut and breathed in the familiar scent. Old rawhide, a bit of sweat, tinged with tobacco, beer, and mint. A unique combination that only my father possessed. In my dark, desperate moments, I attempted to replicate the smell. I went out and bought a black leather jacket like the one he had and smoked my first-ever cigarette while wearing it. I downed a beer and intentionally splashed a little on there, then spritzed some mint on it and went exercising in the damn thing.

  It didn’t smell like my father at all, but it was the closest thing to home I had over the past few years.

  Until now.

  “I got somewhere we gotta go,” my father said.

  I raised my head and looked into his eyes as a smile crossed my face.

  “A ride on the back of your bike?” I asked.

  “If you’ll let me give ya one,” he said.

  I threw my arms around his neck and squealed before I reached for my purse. We headed to his bike and I settled onto the back of it like I’d never left. I hung onto my father as we drove away from my home and away from the side of town we lived in. I closed my eyes and took in the familiar sounds. The engine revving. The leather between my legs. The breadth of my father’s body as I hung on as tightly as I could. I pressed my cheek between his shoulder blades, drawing in his scent over and over again. I wanted to cloak myself in it. Memorize every part of it. I wanted to take in the wind whipping through my red hair and the dust crunching between my teeth.

  Just in case my father sent me away again.

  Just in case I didn’t ever come back.

  If I knew my father as well as I thought I did, I knew he would have some plan now that I was here. As happy as he was to see me, I knew he wasn’t pleased. I could see the tightness in his jaw. I wasn’t sure how, but I would need to prove to him that I could handle myself.

  I recognized the pavement of the parking lot as soon as we pulled in. Hornet Central, my father’s club’s bar. I giggled into his back and hopped off the bike, ready to embrace all of the men I hadn’t seen in years. They’d become my family. The people that looked after me once my father and I lost the other half of our family. Brothers and uncles. Men I’d confided in as a teenager when I felt I couldn’t talk to my father about things. They guided me on boys and gave me advice about school. I talked with a couple of them about my passion for cooking and how I wanted to go to culinary school one day.

  I even confided in a few of them about Diesel. Though I doubt any of them would actually admit that to my dad. They all knew how over protective my father was.

  The second I walked into the smoky bar, people erupted into cheers. Men I hadn’t seen in well over a decade ran up to me and embraced me. Picked me up and swung me around. Danced me around the room and shoved a beer into my hand. They threw questions my way, and before I could answer them more bombarded my ears. They were older. A little grayer. Some were a little more wrinkled than others. And there were a few unfamiliar faces, guys that looked to be close to my age. But they were the men I’d been surrounded with my entire life.

  My men.

  My family.

  Until a voice from my past emanated behind me.

  “Brynn.”

  I froze in my place briefly before I turned around. And when my eyes took him in, my heart plummeted to my knees. He was taller. Older. With a great deal more muscle than I remembered. But those eyes. Those dark brown eyes with that ring of green around his ir
is.

  I’d never forget those eyes.

  “Diesel,” I said.

  “Brynn, there’s something I gotta tell you.”

  My father’s voice ripped me from my trance and my gaze flickered over to him.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “You know I told you that you coming home was a threat. That it wasn’t safe.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I know.”

  “Well, Diesel’s club is in need of some help, so we struck a deal.”

  “Uh huh,” I said as I brought my beer to my lips.

  I chugged the entire thing back, knowing damn good and well I’d need the alcohol running through my veins.

  “What deal did you strike?” I asked as I tried to prepare myself for his answer.

  I felt Diesel’s gaze on my face the entire time I talked with my father. I couldn’t bear to look at him. If I did, I risked jumping into his arms and planting my lips right against his. And I couldn’t risk that. Not with how much time had passed between the two of us.

  For all I knew, the man was married.

  “You’re gonna marry Diesel so he can keep you safe, and in return we’re gonna help keep his club safe from Rex and his Black Saddle goons.”

  I nearly spit out my beer. I was going to marry Diesel?!

  “What?” I asked flatly.

  “Brynn, you’re really at risk--”

  I held my hand up to Diesel, silencing him in his tracks.

  “I’m what now?” I asked as I glared at my father.

  “If you wanna stay in town, you’re marrying Diesel. It’s as simple as that. Don’t wanna marry him, go back home.”

  “I am home!”

  The statement came out much louder than I had intended it to be. I felt my blood pressure skyrocketing. I felt my vision dimming. If there was one thing I inherited from my mother, it was her temper. I slammed my empty beer bottle down onto the bar and stormed away from my father. Diesel reached out to grab my arm and stopped me in my tracks, but I whipped around and wrapped my hand around his wrist.

  “The next time you touch me, you better be prepared to lose that fucking hand, D.”

  I pulled his grasp away from my skin and stormed out of the bar. Marry Diesel? Was my father fucking serious? Was this his way of trying to get me to go back where I came from? Force a marriage down my throat? He knew how independent I had become. Especially after he forced me to leave. He knew exactly how I would react to this deal of his.