Page 83 of Diesel's Perseverance
“I won’t be more than five minutes,” she said, rushing toward the bathroom.
Diesel pulled out a bottled water from the mini fridge, vowing to get one of those in his room when he returned home. He twisted off the top and slowly drank while gazing at the ocean. Fear pinged within him, and the threads of sadness weaving through him pulled and tightened. Cano was on the loose, and Freddy was in a metro area with over three million people.How the fuck am I ever gonna find you, little brother? Call me so I can trace your call.Staring out in the distance, he repeated “Call me” over and over, like a mantra.
“I’m ready.”
Myla’s voice pulled him away from his thoughts.
Diesel turned around and smiled. She’d changed into jeans, ankle boots, and a top with cap sleeves. Her long hair was pulled back into a braid. She had a pair of sunglasses in one hand and a bandana in the other.
“What? Why do you keep staring at me? Aren’t I dressed okay for a ride?”
“You’re dressed perfectly. I’m just surprised you caught on so quickly. You’ll be more comfortable now than in the shorts and sleeveless top you had on. Do you need anything else before we head out?”
“No. Everything I need is in my front pockets.”
“Then let’s go. We’re joining some other members. It’s safer that way for now.”
“Sounds good. I’m excited to get on the back of your motorcycle, but I’ll probably keep my eyes closed until we get off I-5. The traffic here is crazy, and practically everyone speeds on the freeways.”
They walked out of the room and descended the stairs. On the way to his motorcycle, Diesel reminded Myla about what to do while riding as a passenger.
“Ready to go?” Demon said, as the duo approached the members.
“Yeah.”
“Okay then. To avoid the damn freeway, we’ll take the route from here to La Jolla to Oceanside. Once we get to Oceanside, we have to jump on I-5 ’cause we can’t drive through Camp Pendleton, the military base. We’ll get back on the coast highway in San Clemente—about 22 miles from Oceanside. At that point, it’s Highway 1, or we just call itPCH—Pacific Coast Highway. We’ll be hugging the coast the rest of the way to Laguna Beach.”
“I’ve always wanted to see Laguna Beach,” she whispered to Diesel, squeezing his hand.
“Any questions?” Demon’s dark eyes scanned the group. “Okay, then, let’s fucking rock ’n’ roll.”
The motorcycles thundered out of the compound and made their way onto the city streets. Once they picked up PCH, Diesel could relax a bit since the traffic wasn’t as congested as in metro San Diego.
Having Myla on the back of his bike felt damn good, and her arms squeezing his waist and her tits crushing against him made his cock jump. He had to admit that her body melding into his was fucking hot. Whenever the bike hit a bump, he chuckled because her hand slipped down past his waist, jerking away when it touched his hard-on.
Diesel looked over his shoulder at her, and their eyes locked. A huge grin lit up her face, and he winked at her, then averted his gaze back to the road. Yep, having Myla plastered to him while riding was kick-ass; he liked the feel of her.
The road wound snuggly against the blue ocean and was more beautiful than he could’ve imagined: waves crashing against the jagged rocks, sea stacks, high cliffs, and picturesque urban spaces. He loved the Rocky Mountains with its snow-capped peaks, verdant valleys, and crystal-clear lakes, but the view before Diesel made him daydream about spending a few winter months by the ocean.
A little less than an hour later, the bikers entered Laguna Beach. Diesel was blown away by the spectacular hilly landscape dotted with rock formations, beautiful beaches, and parks.
“This is gorgeous,” Myla yelled to him.
Nodding his head, he followed his fellow bikers for a few more miles until they turned off Pacific Coast Highway. Their stopping point was the north side of Laguna Park at Crystal Cove State Park. After paying the parking fee, the group headed over to the beach area. Crystal Cove was a peaceful, narrow beach about three miles long, sheltered by a border of rocks. The coral reef, natural pools, and the immense forest behind it added to the area’s natural beauty.
The men plopped down on the beach and took out beer cans they’d stored in their saddle bags. Diesel popped the top on a Dos Equis.
“Want one?” he asked Myla.
“No, thanks. Did you bring a Diet Coke or Sprite?”
“I did.” He pulled out a Diet Coke from the plastic bag.
“You’re so thoughtful,” she said, taking the can from him. “It’s so beautiful here. I could watch the ocean for hours.”
“It’s fuckin’ awesome.”
And it was. The shoreline stretched as far as the eye could see, and the waves on the beach broke into choppy foam, receding, then moving forward again.
