Page 118 of Diesel's Perseverance
“No, but I would have if Cano gave me the word.”
“Freddy never did anything to you.”
“He was a weak piece of shit who should’ve stayed out of my business. He threatened to tell Diesel about me. That’s when I found out he had a brother who was an Insurgent. I told Cano, and that’s why his brother went over to Freddy’s house that night.”
“He was going to kill him. So itwasself-defense.”
“I was shocked when Cano told me your weak asshole offed his brother. I chalked it up to beginner’s dumb luck.”
“Freddy’s gone now. Let him rest in peace.”
“You sanctimonious slut. You act like you’re all broken up about losing him, and all the while, you’ve been fucking his brother. If Freddy had any real balls, he would’ve beaten you to a pulp and put a damn bullet through Diesel’s head.”
“You shut up! You don’t know anything about Diesel, Freddy, or me. You’re the pathetic jerk who has to hide in the shadows. I wouldn’t put it past you to stab your club members in their backs.”
“You fuckingcunt!” He raised his hand and backhanded her hard across the face, the blow sent her staggering backward. “I’m gonna take care of you, but not before I get a piece of what you’ve been giving Diesel. You’re nothing but a tramp who thinks her shit doesn’t stink, but it does. You need to be taught some respect,bitch!” Another strike made her head fall back while flashes of light danced in front of her eyes.
Myla put her hand to her cheek; her face began to hurt from the two blows. She ran her tongue over her lips and tasted blood. Her head started to spin, and she forced herself to focus so she wouldn’t pass out.I have to get the hell away from him.
“Oh shit,” she said, pretending to stumble. “My foot. A bee stung me.” She slipped off her shoes, bent down, rubbed her foot, then leaped up and slammed the heel of her sandal onto his head as hard as she could.
“Fuck!”
Without waiting for his next move, she kicked him with all her strength in the groin. Cursing, he clutched his crotch and fell to his knees. Myla threw the other sandal at him, and knowing she couldn’t pullthatoff twice, she took off running like the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels.
Run, run, run!
Panic clawing at her, she raced barefoot through the foliage, dodging trees that blocked her way and pushing aside leaves and branches with her hands. Prickly branches scratched her legs. Leaves and broken stems smacked her face. Gulps of breaths seared her aching lungs, but she kept moving, adrenaline firing her blood. The sound of footsteps slamming on the ground thundered in her ears; he was fast approaching.
Suddenly, her bare foot tripped over a root.Shit!She fell, hands and knees scraping on the sharp stones and uneven ground.He’s catching up. He’ll get me!Fear sizzled down her spine.Hurry! Hurry!She pushed up then spurred herself to hide; she’d never be able to outrun him.
Ignoring the blood sliding down her shins, she dived into a hedgerow, clapping a hand over her mouth as every muscle in her body screamed in pain. Swallowing her whimpers as creepy crawlers scurried over her skin, she tried to regulate her breathing.
Less than a minute later, the biker ran past, uttering a string of obscenities that faded into the distance. Tears of relief welled in her eyes, and she let her hand drop. Fishing out her cell, she switched it to Mute and sent a short text to Welder.
Within five minutes, she heard the crunch of boots on the terrain, and she held her breath.
“Myla, are you here?”
Welder!“I’m behind the hedge,” she said as she pulled herself up to her feet. She looked at her hands and knees. Dirt, small rocks, and streaks of blood covered them. She wiped off the soil and such from her hands and figured she’d deal with her knees when she returned to the room.
Welder’s gaze took her in, and he glanced away without asking her any questions.
“Walk beside me,” he said, then was silent for the rest of the way back to the clubhouse.
Myla followed him through the main room, ignoring the looks of the bikers and the club girls. Welder stopped at the bar, poured her a glass of white wine, a shot of whiskey, and then escorted her to her room.
Once securely locked in, Myla cleaned up her cuts and bruises, spread some antibiotic cream over her banged-up knees, and placed a bandage over each one. She freshened up, stuffed her dirtied sundress into a laundry bag, and slipped on a pair of white cropped jeans and an apricot midriff. She eased into the comfy chair, threw back the shot Welder had thoughtfully given her, and then nursed her wine while keeping her gaze glued on the door. It was luck that helped her get away from the biker. She didn’t even know his name. Sighing, Myla brought the wineglass to her lips and savored its dryness.
The sooner we get back to Pinewood Springs, the better.She stretched out her legs and waited for Diesel to come back.
***
“What the hellhappened?” Diesel said as he burst into the room. “Welder said you had some trouble on the property.” His eyes landed on her scratched arms and swollen face. “What the fuck?”
Myla flipped her hair back over her shoulder and met his gaze. “That biker who I recognized at the party attacked me.”
He was by her side in three long strides, his protective, solid arm wrapped around her shoulders. He kissed her right temple then the side of her face gingerly.
