Page 96 of Diesel's Perseverance
His arm tightened around her. “It’s thewhythat fuckin’ kills me. I could’ve gotten him back on track, but he didn’t want my help. Fuck, I’ll never understand it.”
Silence descended on them again. He absentmindedly played with the ends of her hair, twirling the strands around his fingers as she rested her head against his chest. All at once, a flashback of Freddy beating her spread through Myla’s mind, making her palms sweat as panic set in.
“What’s going on?” Diesel asked, cupping a hand under her chin and raising her face. His eyes searched hers.
The remembrance dispersed to the depths of her mind.
“I feel guilty about not feeling guilty that I was planning to leave him. Is that stupid?”
He shook his head. “No. When something bad happens, all the shit gets put aside, and we tend to remember the good stuff. It’s important to remember the pain, too; it balances things out. You made up your mind to leave, so there’s no reason to feel guilty about that decision.”
“You’re right. I feel bad because he’s gone, but I know if he weren’t, I wouldn’t have gone back to him.” Myla inhaled and slowly exhaled. “And… I feel like a real heel about that.”
“Don’t. Dying doesn’t elevate a person to a hero. Feel what you feel. There isn’t any right or wrong; they’reyourfeelings.”
“I loved him—”
“I know,” he said.
“I was going to say that I loved him but was neverinlove with him. We had some great times, and I felt grounded with him. Then those damn pain clinics threw us off-balance, and he began to transform in front of me. Maybe I didn’t handle it well. I should’ve understood him better, maybe—”
“Maybes can drive you fuckin’ crazy. They’re like a tiger chasing its tail.”
“You’re right. I just wished I could’ve helped him more, but he shut me out,” she said.
“Yeah, he shut me out, too, and it fuckin’ eats me up.”
Myla squeezed his forearm. Nothing she could say would ease the guilt Diesel felt. He was Freddy’s big brother and wanted to be there for him to save the day. He would have to work through the regrets and self-recriminations just like she would. Someone’s death created a tailspin of emotions.
“How did you find out about Freddy?” she whispered.
“He called me. We talked some. I kept trying to get him to tell me where he was, but he wouldn’t. The fucker nailed him when we were on the phone.”
She gasped. “That’s awful. Oh, Diesel, I’m so sorry.”
“Death is part of life. In my world, we face possible death every day. I never know if some rival biker or smartass wannabe will take a shot at me or any of the brothers. Then there are the citizens who don’t watch for motorcycles. I’ve buried more members than I can count due to violence, crashes, and illness. That’s why outlaws live in the present. We live fortoday’cause we don’t know if we’ll have a tomorrow.”
“Doesn’t the lifestyle scare you?” she asked.
“Nope, it saves me.”
“I wish Freddy had something he could’ve believed in and been a part of. I thought I was it, but I wasn’t. I’m glad that you talked with him. It feels right that his last conversation was with you and you with him. I’m sure it brings you some comfort. Did you call the police?”
Diesel jerked his head back. “No fuckin’ way. I’m gonna handle it myself. It’ll take the badges weeks or months to do what I can do in a few days or less. I don’t need them. Insurgents handle our own business in the streets. I’ll make sure that the fucker and whoever else is involved will pay for what they did. They’ll be justice—Insurgents-style.”
A finger of nausea poked her stomach. “I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you.”
“I’ll be just fine. I’ve dealt with all kinds of fuckin’ scum, and Cano is scraping the bottom of the damn barrel.” Diesel shifted a bit, then stood up. “I gotta get cleaned up.” He headed to the bathroom, stopped, then turned around. “Are you good?”
Shrugging, she replied, “If you mean am I okay to be by myself while you wash up, the answer is yes.”
Nodding, he said, “If you need me, rap on the door.”
Myla waited until she heard the water from the shower turn on. Picking up the remote, she switched on the television and turned to the local news station. After two commercials and a short clip about a fire burning in Vista, the images of flashing lights from multiple police cars filled the screen.
In the background, a newscaster said, “Police are still on the scene at the Hotel Perla in downtown San Diego on Front Street. A young man was shot in his hotel room early this morning. Several hotel guests reported hearing loud gunshots. This is a developing story; we’ll have updates as new information becomes available.”
Myla turned off the television and stared at the blank screen. Everything seemed so surreal. She never imagined Freddy’s life would be over at twenty-nine years old and in such a violent way.If only he wouldn’t have opened those damn clinics. He was making great money as a pharmaceutical rep, but it wasn’t enough for him.Freddy always wanted more, as if he was trying to fill a void, but the problem was that void was bottomless.
