Page 63 of Diesel's Perseverance
Myla glanced over. “Sorry. I was looking for Diesel. I don’t see mine yet.”
“Lemme know, and I’ll get them.”
“Okay, thanks,” she said, focusing on the bags tumbling down the chute onto the carousel.
Suddenly, she had the feeling someone was watching her. She turned around. A black-clad figure quickly hid behind a column near a rental car kiosk. A shiver tiptoed up her spine.
“Myla,” Diesel’s voice boomed through the baggage area.
Relief wrapped around her like a hug. Before she could move, Diesel was at her side, crushing her against him. She threaded her left arm between his vest and T-shirt and gripped his waist, breathing in his familiar scent. She really missed him, and even though he’d only been gone five days, it felt like five months.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Diesel whispered, his lips against her ear, his breath hot on her skin.
“Me too,” she said, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
Then Myla remembered the creepy guy, and she pulled back from him. “I think someone was watching me.” She felt his muscles stiffen.
“When?”
“Just before you came over.”
Diesel dropped his arm from her and snapped his finger at Welder. “Have you seen anyone suspicious?”
“No.”
Turning back to Myla, Diesel said, “Where did you see him?”
“Over there,” she said, pointing to the pillar by the rental car stand.
Before Diesel said another word, Welder sprinted over to the area.
“Did you recognize the guy?”
“It may have been Peter, but I’m not sure. He was dressed in all black and wore a hat pulled down low. But he was definitely watching me.”
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Are your bags here yet? We should head out now.”
She glanced over at the conveyor belt. “Yes.”
“Come with me and point them out.”
By the time they had the two suitcases on the trolley, Welder returned, shaking his head. “I didn’t see anyone. The fucker’s long gone.”
“Maybe, but I wouldn’t bank on it,” Diesel said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
The drive from the airport was uneventful. Diesel kept glancing in the rearview mirror while Welder’s eyes darted from right to left until they drove through a large iron gate manned by two fierce-looking men. Diesel lifted his chin at the men as he passed them.
They continued past lush bushes, palm trees, and flowering shrubs of vivid reds, yellows, and pinks. Rainbows shimmered from the spray of sprinklers—uniformly placed—watering the impressive vegetation.
“The landscape is beautiful. I’m impressed at how well it’s kept up,” Myla said.
“It’s the ol’ ladies’ doing. They hired a retired member. The dude’s got a landscape business.”
“Like Throttle and Rags.”
A warm smile curved Diesel’s lips. “You’re getting to know my world.” He reached over and brushed his fingers against the back of her hand. “I like that.”
A hot flush flowed through her, and she shifted in the seat, and her body suddenly heated up. Myla’s cotton shirt stuck to her back, and as she felt sweat beading around her hairline, she dreamed of plunging into a cool pool.
