Page 66 of Diesel's Perseverance
“That’s interesting. I bet that kind of life could be very freeing. Right now, I wish I was a nomad biker.”
Diesel laughed. “You’re too much.”
“I’m serious. Now go and hang with your friends while I unpack. Are we eating dinner here?”
“I’d planned on taking you for a night ride along the coast and then eating at one of the small restaurants in Encinitas, but I don’t think it’s safe for you to do that right now.”
Myla’s stomach clenched, and she sighed heavily. “I know you’re right, but it doesn’t make me any less disappointed and pissed at the situation.”
“Another time. I’m pretty sure the ol’ ladies cooked up a feast for us. That’s what the protocol is when the national MC visits a chapter. I’ll get you in a couple of hours. If you need or want anything, call me.”
“Same rules except with an ocean view.”
“What can I say? That’s the way it is.” He lifted his chin. “Don’t open the door for anyone but me.”
Diesel walked out of the room. She heard the lock click and then his footsteps on the tile stairs bouncing off the thick walls. Myla turned back to the window and inhaled the salty air. In the near distance, she gazed at the blue ocean sparkling under the low sun that lay beneath a bank of clouds.
“I’m in San Diego, Freddy,” she whispered. “Where areyou? Are you at our favorite place?”
There was no way he’d stay at the Grand Hyatt on the waterfront, but maybe that’d be the perfect cover because Cano would never think Freddy would bethattransparent. Myla whipped her phone out of her pocket, scrolled through her contacts until she located the hotel’s phone number, and tapped it in. Her heart beat a mile a minute as the phone rang. She went through the phone tree and waited with bated breath for a receptionist to pick up.
“Manchester Grand Hyatt, may I help you?”
“I’d like to speak to one of your guests, but I’ve misplaced his room number.”
“What is the name of the guest?”
“Freddy Marshall.”
Myla heard clicking in the background as the clerk typed in Freddy’s name.
“I’m sorry, we don’t have a guest by that name.”
“Try David Marshall or David Gurley.” Sometimes he used his middle name with his mother’s maiden name.
“Please hold while I check.”
A few seconds later, the woman said, “I’m sorry, but no guest under any of those names is registered at the hotel.”
Deflated, Myla mumbled, “Thanks.” Then she disconnected the call. She knew it was a long shot but thought there was a chance he’d be there. Images slipped out from the corners of her mind: Freddy’s beaming smile as they sipped mai tais at the Top of the Hyatt and watched the sunset over the ocean, lounging by the pool in the late afternoons, eating fish tacos on Ocean Beach Pier and feeding the seagulls. The recollections were so vivid; it felt like she could reach out and touch them. Myla sighed deeply, feeling a profound sadness. For a long while, she stared at the rippling expanse of the Pacific as the memories slowly faded away.
She abandoned the window, leaned over her unpacked suitcase, took out a terrycloth robe, and headed to the bathroom to shower.
Myla awakened witha start, not knowing where she was. Dusk, just beginning to fall, sent shadows creeping across the tiled floor. Flickering from the outside floodlights below was the only illumination in the room.Where am I?She glanced around and spotted her suitcase on the far side of the bed, and then it all came back.I must’ve fallen asleep after my shower.
Myla placed her feet on the floor, sat up straight, stretched her arms above her head, and yawned. She started to stand up when she heard Diesel’s muffled voice through the closed bathroom door. Unable to make out what he was saying, she tiptoed closer, leaned in, and heard him say, “No one was at the house?” There was a slight pause, and then she heard him say, “I know the fucker is here. I gotta get to him before he finds Freddy. Fuck! I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with my sonofabitchin’ brother. I can settle all this shit if I know where the hell he is. Shit!”
A loud sound made Myla jump.Breathe.She stood rooted to the spot, knowing she should slither away but was compelled to stay.
“I know, dude. I’ll take you up on the offer. See you tomorrow. And… thanks, bro.”
Silence, then a few seconds later, Diesel was pounding like a madman on the shower door, cursing under his breath. Then it was quiet. She turned to leave but froze when he said, “Fuck, Freddy. Fuck!” The anguish in his voice pierced her heart.
Myla clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing. The doorknob rattled, and she hurried back to the nightstand and switched on the lamp.
The thud of his boots neared as she pretended to be absorbed with unpacking the suitcases.
“You’re up.” Weariness laced his voice.
