Page 106 of Diesel's Perseverance
After brushing her teeth and splashing water on her face, Myla scooped up the antiseptic cream, bandages, gauze, and a cleansing pad and then walked back into the living space. Diesel sat on the edge of the bed pulling on his boots. She gently took care of the wound, happy that the redness had completely gone away.
“It looks real good,” she said.
“That’s ’cause I’ve got the prettiest nurse taking care of it.”
A warm glow spread through her, and she kissed the top of his shoulder and then stepped back.
“All done.”
“Thanks.”
Diesel stool up, and Myla watched as he pulled a black T-shirt over his head and donned his leather cut. As he slipped a wallet in his pocket, he turned to her.
“Write your friend’s full name and description of her car on a piece of paper. I’ll let the members know she’ll be coming through and to let her in. What time is she picking you up?”
“Six thirty. I don’t know what her car looks like, but I’ll text her real quick.”
“Wait for her on the porch. She can’t come into the club, okay?”
She glanced up from her phone. “Okay.” She peeked back down at the sound of the beep. “Caitlyn Monroe. She’ll be in a red Infiniti two-door. She sent me a picture of her car.” Myla laughed.
“Smart girl. Forward it to me, and I’ll give it to whoever’s gonna be manning the gates tonight.”
“Okay.”
Diesel picked up one of the saddlebags, went into the bathroom, and closed the door. Myla wondered what was in the bag that he didn’t want her to see.Maybe he found Peter Cano and that’s the club business.Thinking of what could be in that saddlebag made her shiver.Please be safe, Diesel. Please…
“I’m gonna take off now,” he said, placing the bag in the closet. “If you need anything washed, give it to me. I’m giving some stuff to the club girls who’ll do the laundry.”
“I’m good. I traveled with a regular suitcase. I couldn’t possibly have made it with just those two little bags you have.”
He laughed. “You get used to it. I’ve become very familiar with laundromats in different cities. If I’m at a chapter or support clubhouse, the club girls do laundry for visiting bikers.”
“Since I was a kid, I went to laundromats. Our washing machine was always breaking, and my family was too poor to replace it. Then, when I was on my own, most of the apartment buildings I lived in had machines, but they were usually busted. I felt like I moved into a luxury building when I got a place that had a compact washer and drier in the apartment. If I never have to go to one of those places again, I’ll be ecstatic.”
“It beats washing it in the river. I’ve done that a few times when I’ve gone off-grid.” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Gotta go. Make sure to lock the door, and don’t letanyonein. I’ll tell Welder to walk you to your room when you get back from dinner. Just look for him when you come back to the main room. What time are you figuring on returning?”
“I don’t know. We’ll probably go for a stroll on the boardwalk, look at some shops around that area, and just hang out a little by the beach. Maybe around midnight.”
“I’ll let Welder know. If anything comes up, let Scratch know. He’s the club’s treasurer and can be trusted. I’ll text you his phone number.”
“I can’t call you?”
“Nope.”
“Can you text me to let me know you’re doing okay?”
“I’ll try but can’t promise it. Don’t worry. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Be safe,” she said, walking with him to the door.
“I will.” Diesel drew her close to him and gave her a tender kiss. “Later.”
Then he left. The emptiness of the room surrounded her, and she missed him already. Walking into the bathroom, it felt as though Diesel was in there with her. His smell was everywhere—the enticing scent of fresh pine from his bath soap and sandalwood aftershave mixed into one, and wafted around the room. Sighing deeply, she went over to the shower, turned on the faucet, and stepped inside, letting the warm water spray across her chest.
Thirty minutes later, Myla emerged from the steamed-up room with her hair and body wrapped in towels and padded over to the window. She saw a group of bikers standing around, and her heart skipped a beat when she noticed Diesel. Gripping the towel tighter around herself, she watched as a large cluster of the men broke into smaller groups and headed toward a bunch of cars—orcagesas Diesel would say—in a small lot. Diesel slipped into the front passenger seat of a black minivan, and it looked like Throttle, Smokey, Rags, and two others she recognized but didn’t know their names, piled into the back two seats. The caravan of vehicles rolled out of the lot and soon disappeared from view.That’s strange. Diesel or the others didn’t take their motorcycles. I wonder what’s up.The idea that Diesel had discovered Peter Cano’s whereabouts gnawed at her gut. She knew Cano was bad news and played dirty, real dirty. Look what he did to Freddy.Freddy.Shafts of sadness and guilt spiked through her: shame about her feelings for Diesel and how she lost herself to him in lust and passion and grief that Freddy lost his life.
The doorknob rattling sent her recriminations scattering away. She glanced out the window, but none of the vehicles had returned, so she knew Diesel wasn’t outside the door. Besides, he had a key.
