Page 162 of Forgotten Prejudice

Good, so he didn’t see us.

“Sorry. We just got sucked into a conversation,” Ashton explained while rubbing the back of his head, already up on his feet.

“About what?”

“Nothing important.” Ashton moved to stand by Kai, whose eyes darted to check me out.

“Whatever.” He shrugged, wrapping an arm around Ashton’s wide shoulders. “Shouldn’t we go pick Diesel up from prison? The boys are already dying to see him.”

“Yeah, we should,” Ashton said, out of breath, as I got up myself.

“Well, I guess I’ll go home now—”

“How about we treat you for dinner?” Kai suggested, surprising the two of us. Ignoring Ashton’s shocked expression, he went on. “I mean, we owe you for getting our kid out of prison. It’s the least we can do, right?”

We, we, we. Didn’t this asshole just love using that word?

I would have refused if Ashton hadn’t jumped on the idea. “That’s right, Soren. Please come.” His face gleamed with hope, and since I was never good at telling him no, I wasn’t about to start doing it.

“Okay.”

Ash

With my back leaning against my truck, I checked the time again. Diesel was supposed to be out by now, but I guessed he’d been delayed. While Andrei and I drove here to pick him up, Jessie and Levi stayed home with Kai to prepare one heck of a welcome home meal. We were all so damn excited because fuck, after a long eight months, the kid was finally coming back home. Putting my joy aside, I was well prepared for Diesel to be different from before because who knew what he’d gone through in there? From the little I did know, it hadn’t been easy. Diesel appeared beaten up more than once, and after months of hardly speaking to anyone, he had clearly suffered significant trauma. Not that he could be blamed. He had been torn away from his life in the blink of an eye, was forced to separate from Shay-Lee, and then faced the worst allegations one could ever think of. On top of it all, I highly doubted that Diesel was aware of the amount of publicity his case received. By now, most Americans knew his face and name, as well as Shay-Lee’s. This whole case had blown up all the media outlets, even more so after Shay-Lee’s testimony. In fact, since the afternoon, my phone had been buzzing with news channels asking to interview him, and if not for the police switching Diesel’s facility to avoid attention, this place would also be filled with reporters and paparazzi wishing to get Diesel’s first pictures out of prison. I knew this was a passing stage and that, eventually, they would all move on to the next story, but for the time being, Diesel would have to stomach it.

So, with the new reality he’d return to, I was sure Diesel was going to have a hard time adjusting, but I was also certain that I’d be here for him. For real, this time. The day before the trial ended, I did something I hardly ever did: I prayed. I prayed to God and promised that if Diesel would walk out of that court as a free man, I would forever do my best to help him. No matter what choice he made, I’d respect it and be of full support because, for the love of God, I would not repeat the same mistakes I’d once made.

“There he is,” Andrei said while nudging my arm and snapping me back to the present.

Looking ahead, I saw Diesel stepping out of the prison gates, his duffle bag tossed over his shoulder. Seeing him in jeans and a T-shirt was such a nice change from the awful jumpsuit, and I smiled, already pushing back from the car and joining Andrei, who was calling for him. Diesel looked up from the ground, his stare landing on us. There were about ten feet between us, but I easily detected how the expression on his face hardened before he looked away and kept on walking.

Oh, no.

“Didn’t he see us?” Andrei asked with a deep frown on his confused face. “Yo, Diesel,” he called out again, louder this time, while waving his hand in the air. When Diesel didn’t turn around and kept walking in the direction of the bus stop, Andrei darted toward him with me right behind.

Andrei reached him first and placed his hand on Diesel’s shoulder. “Hey, man, where are you goin—” His question was cut off when Diesel shrugged him off.

I couldn’t see Andrei’s face, but his body tensed as he took a step back. “What the hell, man? What’s the matter with you?” he asked, but Diesel didn’t answer and just kept walking. At that point, Andrei’s anger erupted out of him like fire. “Hey, I’m talking to you,” he shouted. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere that isn’t here,” Diesel finally answered with his back to us.

I wanted to jump in and say something, but Andrei left no room for that.

“What do you mean? The guys are waiting for you at home. We’re all waiting for you.”

“It’s not my home.” Diesel’s answer was short and precise, like a dart to my heart. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one taken aback by his words.

“What the fuck are you talking about, saying crap like that,” Andrei spat out before he rounded Diesel and forced him to stop. “We’re your family.”

“My family is buried six feet under,” Diesel hissed, his fists clenched tight.

Andrei’s face twisted with shock before he visibly swallowed, his neck working.

“Guys, let’s calm down,” I offered and tried to step in. Looking between them, Diesel stayed true to his words and still didn’t so much as glance my way. It hurt, but I half saw it coming.

“I’m done here, with this place, this city. With you. I’ve got nothing more to do here,” Diesel said, jaw tensed. He didn’t wait for an answer, rounded Andrei, and kept on walking.

“What do you mean you’re done?” Andrei turned around, his eyes pinned on Diesel’s back, which was only getting further away. “We’ve fought for you for months, you asshole!”