Page 48 of Diesel's Perseverance
“Now that I’ve been on a ride with you, I get it. I know you often wrote about missing your Harley and being unable to ride. I admit I didn’t really understand it, but now I do.”
“Yeah. The first thing I did when I got out was jump on my bike. I rode for hours. I went through every damn valley, canyon, and mountain road in the county. I couldn’t get enough. One of my buddies in the pen talked about how when he got out, he was gonna fuck chicks until his dick fell off, but I knew the first thing I’d do is get on my Harley and ride until my ass was too numb to sit.” He laughed.
“I love your passion and that you notice the beauty of nature. I’ve always found solace in nature. It’s life-affirming when everything else around you is going to hell.”
“Yeah.”
“I want to speak to you privately but don’t want to go into the clubhouse just yet.”
“We can talk on the back porch.”
Myla followed him to the patio and sat on a small rattan couch. Diesel took a seat on the other end.
“I’ve been waiting for you to tell me what you found at my house since you came back, but you haven’t brought it up.”
Diesel pulled out a joint from his shirt pocket, cupped his hand to light it, then turned to Myla. “You want one? It’s good stuff. It comes from our grow store.”
“No, thanks,” she said.
He took a long hit, held it in for a few seconds, then blew out smoke. “What do you want to know?”
“Did it look like Peter or anyone had been inside the house?”
“No. I expected to find the place in shambles, but nothing was disturbed. The alarm system was still engaged.”
“I’m surprised. I thought for sure Peter would’ve gone over.” She looked away, took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “Did you find a body?”
He blew out another stream of smoke, then nodded. “In the panic room.”
“Oh, God,” she choked, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t believe this. Who was it?”
“I’m pretty sure it was the fucker’s brother. Freddy had cameras everywhere. I saw what happened. It looked like the dude started shit first. He came at Freddy, kicking and punching, then got him to the floor and beat him. Freddy got in a real solid punch and pushed the jerk off him. He ran to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and went after the guy.”
“Did the other guy have a weapon?”
“Didn’t look that way. I think Freddy just lost it. When the dude crumpled to the floor, he kept going at it.”
“I can’t believe this. Could you hear what he was saying?”
“Freddy kept telling the guy that he and his brother cheated him and took everything away from him. He was cussing and crying.”
“So it was self-defense, right?”
“I’m no lawyer, but the jerk attacked Freddy first. From what I saw, he would’ve killed Freddy if he hadn’t gotten in that lucky punch and grabbed the knife.”
“Freddy should’ve stopped when he saw the guy was incapacitated.”
“He had a meltdown. He couldn’t stop. It happens. There was a lot of emotion going on. Emotions fuck you over every time in a situation like that.”
“Poor Freddy. I bet he was so scared and freaked out after he saw what he’d done.”
“Pretty much. He wrapped him up in a ton of garbage bags and took him to the panic room. Then he grabbed some items from a couple of wall safes, his closet, and dresser drawers and left the house. He really should’ve taken the surveillance tapes. I can’t believe how many damn cameras were in the house. He had them in closets, the fuckin’ pantry. I mean, shit… my brother was fuckin’ paranoid.”
“He was. He kept thinking people would break into the house and rob and kill us. I didn’t know he had cameras in the closets and pantry. That seems a bit extreme.”
“Maybe he wanted to keep tabs on you.”
“Me? Why?”
