Page 68 of Road to Absolution

Finally, he said, “A lot of motorcycle clubs form because there are certain men who no longer fit in society. Veterans, ex-cops—men who have seen horror they can’t unsee.”

That got me to stop pouting and mature up. His words had me reaching out and taking a hold of his hand. He was the President of the men he was speaking of. How could he lead those damaged if he didn’t understand their anguish, firsthand?

Then I gasped. “Justice.”

With a heavy heart, he nodded. “Yeah, she’s a biker through and through.” Then, how these men do, he made a joke. “Could you see her hangin’ at some country club, patiently waiting for some guy in plaid shorts to finish his round of golf?”

Now we both laughed as I shook my head. “I don’t even think the country club would let her in—”

I froze.

Again, he nodded. “Yeah, they would take one look at her leather and hairstyle and judge. Most do.” After a pause, he teased, “Of course, there’re a few of those women who want to roll in the sack with a biker—”

Laughing, I smacked him. “Gross!”

“Because they want to tame them one.” He stopped laughing. “But, baby? How can you truly tame what you don’t even understand?”

I don’t think I had ever heard a more legit question.

“You asked me about Kenny finding his Heaven. Not to say too much about someone else’s business, but Justice has survived torture that would have them country-clubbers in a nuthouse for the rest of their lives. That’s how they found Heaven. A common ground few can understand.”

Since Justice hadn’t been alone in the kidnapping, I swallowed. “And Art?”

The silence that lingered was almost painful… “Just when I thought he was really putting it all behind him… He was taken again.”

“W-What? Again?”

“If his actions seem… ‘off,’ it’s because they are. We have you away for good reasons… some reasons that young man knows personally.”

“But… when did this happen?”

“Delilah, we just got him back a week before Maverick’s wreck.”

“Oh my God. Is he okay?”

“Is Maverick?”

I cringed. So many were in pain beneath the skin. “No.” Taking a deep breath, I asked, “It’s all connected—Maverick, Art, the chase—isn’t it?”

His stare told me there were certain things I would never be privy to, but the way his sad eyes delivered that message, I knew I didn’t want to know. “What I need you to understand, right now, is… this club has a couple pups running from demons.”

Diesel’s other words now played over in my head: how can you tame what you don’t understand?

Loving Maverick and caring for Art gave me the strength to be brave. “I want to understand what they are going through.”

Proudly, he dipped his chin. “As you personally know, life is hard, all around, but… there’s nothing like seeing people die right in front of you and knowing you’re next.”

Sweet Jesus. Please help us.

There was no stopping a sob. My heart screamed for the unjust my husband and Artist were experiencing.

Diesel caressed my face with the back of his ringed fingers. “I’m sorry this hurts you, baby.”

“I’m sorry your son has been hurt.”

Diesel jerked as if me acknowledging his pain made him do the same.

I exhaled. “Okay, tell me more.”