Chapter 115 Diesel's solution
Ryder's POV
"Don't you dare judge her." Diesel said like he was protective of Lisa. She was crying about how alone she felt, about her problems with Snake and how she wanted to leave him, and I—" He stopped himself. "It doesn't matter how it happened. What matters is this video exists and it's going to ruin everyone's lives if we don't do something about it."
I ran my hands over my face, trying to think through the options. None of them were good. "You can't keep paying him. Blackmailers never stop once they know you're willing to pay."
"No shit. That's why I called you." Diesel moved closer, his voice dropping lower. "There's only one way to make this stop permanently."
I felt my gut twist because I knew exactly where this was going. "Don't say it."
"We have to kill him." The words hung in the air between us like a death sentence. "It's the only way to make sure that video never gets to Snake."
"You're talking about murder. About killing someone in cold blood to cover up a mistake you made. I know I have killed before, but I'm not taking a man's life for something so trivial."
"I'm talking about survival!" Diesel's voice rose again, desperate and pleading. "You think this is just about me? If Snake finds out, he doesn't just kill me. He kills Lisa too. And then the club implodes because brothers can't trust each other anymore. Everything falls apart."
"So your solution is to add murder to the pile of fuck-ups?"
"My solution is to eliminate a threat before it destroys everything." His jaw was set, determined. "Mark Webb is a piece of shit drug dealer who's extorting me over a mistake that never should have happened. He's not some innocent victim. He's a parasite who saw an opportunity and he's squeezing it for everything he can get."
I turned away, trying to find some other option that didn't involve killing someone. But every solution had holes. Paying wouldn't work. Threatening him might backfire. Going to the club meant telling Snake, which defeated the purpose.
"There has to be another way—"
"There isn't." Diesel's voice was flat now, resigned. "I've spent three weeks thinking about this from every damn angle. I've barely slept, barely eaten, and every scenario I come up with ends the same way unless we handle Mark permanently."
"And the video? Even if we kill him, where does that leave the footage?"
"We get his phone, delete the video and any copies, and it's like it never existed." Diesel had clearly thought this through.
I wanted to say no. I wanted to walk away and tell Diesel to figure his own shit out. But looking at him, seeing the genuine terror in his eyes, seeing how completely fucked he was...
"I can't do this," I said, but my voice lacked conviction. "I can't help you kill someone."
And that's when I saw his expression change. I saw the desperation give way to something harder and colder.
"You owe me, Ryder." His voice was quiet but intense. "You owe me a debt you've never paid back."
My blood ran cold. "Don't."
"Don't what? Don't remind you that I saved your fucking life when we were kids?" Diesel took a step closer. "Don't mention that I shot your abusive piece of shit father when he was about to beat you to death? That I killed someone for you when I was sixteen years old and never asked for anything in return?"
The memory hit me like a fist. It was shortly after Vincent took me in. I went back home to pick my stuff and my dad was home. He was angry that I embarrassed him by going with Vincent and began hitting me.
I was fifteen years old, cowering on the floor while my father swung his belt and his fists, too drunk to know or care that he was about to kill his own son. And then Diesel bursting through the door with a stolen gun, pointed it at my father, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The gunshot. The blood. My father crumpling to the ground. The memories were vivid now.
Diesel had taken a life to save mine. And we had buried that secret along with the gun, never speaking of it again for twenty three years.
"That's not fair," I said, my voice rough.
"Fair?" He laughed a bitter and harsh laugh. "Nothing about this is fair. But it's the truth. I killed your father to save your life. And now I'm asking you to help me save mine. That's the debt, Ryder. And I'm calling it in."
Fuck.
I did owe him. But I'm not sure I could ever repay.
"I'm already knee deep in gambling debt," Diesel continued, his voice breaking. "Borrowing from loan sharks just to pay off this blackmailer. But he's not going to stop asking for more until there's nothing left to take. And when I can't pay anymore, he sends the video to Snake and everyone dies. Is that what you want?"
I looked at my friend, my brother, and saw the desperation there. I saw how close he was to breaking completely.
And I knew I was going to help him.
Because I owed him my life.
And that was a debt I could never walk away from.
"Fuck," I said, the word coming out like a surrender. "If we do this, we do it smart. No evidence. No witnesses. No fucking mistakes."
The relief that washed over Diesel's face was almost painful to watch. "Thank you. Damn, Ryder, thank you. I swear you won't regret this."
But I already regretted it.
Because I knew that once we crossed this line, once we killed Mark to bury Diesel's mistake, there would be no going back.
We would both be murderers.