Chapter 84 Following Diesel
Sage's POV
I knew following Diesel was stupid before I even turned the key in the ignition, but something about the way he'd been acting all evening at the clubhouse made my skin crawl in a way I couldn't ignore or explain away.
It took me fifteen minutes to find a parking spot on a side street that gave me a clear view of the road Diesel would have to pass on his way home. I killed the engine and settled in to wait, my heart beating faster than it should have been for someone who was just sitting in a parked car doing nothing.
I didn't have to wait long.
His truck rolled past soon enough, those custom exhaust pipes that Snake had installed making it impossible to mistake for anything else. And instead of turning onto the road that led to his house, he drove straight past it without slowing down.
That was when I knew for certain he was hiding something, and that was when I made the decision to follow him.
His truck was easy to track in the dark, big and loud with those custom exhaust pipes that made a distinctive rumble you could hear from blocks away. I kept three car lengths back and turned my headlights off relying on the ambient glow from the occasional business or porch light to see the road ahead of me.
Diesel drove for twenty minutes without stopping or slowing down, moving deeper into the warehouse district on the east side of town. It was the kind of area where legitimate businesses shut down after dark and nobody asked questions about what happened in the shadows between the buildings. I'd driven through here a handful of times before and always felt uneasy about it, like the darkness between the warehouses was hiding things that didn't want to be seen.
He finally pulled behind an abandoned factory at the end of a dead-end street and killed his engine. I stopped a whole block behind him, pulling into a narrow alley between two buildings where I could park without being seen. From where I sat I could just barely see through the gap between the buildings to the empty lot where Diesel had stopped, and I shifted in my seat to get the best angle possible.
A figure emerged from the factory's loading dock after about a minute, stepping out of the shadows with the kind of quiet confidence that told me this person had done this before and knew exactly how to move without drawing attention. They were too far away for me to make out any real details but the build and the way they carried themselves told me it was definitely a man.
Diesel climbed out of his truck and walked toward the figure with his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold or maybe against the weight of whatever he was about to do. They met halfway across the empty lot under a broken streetlight that flickered on and off in an unsteady rhythm, casting everything in alternating shadows and pale yellow light.
I grabbed my phone and started recording even though I knew the distance was going to make everything look like dark blobs on the screen. Getting some kind of record was better than nothing, even if the footage wouldn't be clear enough to identify anyone.
They talked for maybe ten minutes, their voices too low and too far away for me to make out a single word. But their body language told its own story. Diesel kept gesturing with his hands, his movements sharp and agitated like he was trying to explain something or argue a point, while the other person stood perfectly still with their arms at their sides, completely calm and in control of the conversation in a way that made Diesel look like the one who was desperate.
Then something changed hands between them. A package or an envelope, I couldn't tell which in the flickering dark, but the way Diesel handled it made it obvious what it was. He took it quickly and carefully, turning slightly away from the other person as he opened it, like he was counting what was inside before putting it away. The way someone handles money when they're making sure they haven't been cheated.
The other figure turned without another word and walked back toward the factory's loading dock, disappearing into the shadows like they'd never been there at all. Diesel stood in the empty lot for another minute checking what he had collected from the man, and even from this distance I could see the stress in how his shoulders hunched forward and how he ran both hands through his hair before shoving them back into his pockets.
He got back in his truck and started the engine, the exhaust pipes rumbling to life in the quiet night. I ducked lower in my seat as his headlights swept in a wide arc past my hiding spot when he turned the truck around, holding my breath until the light moved past me and the sound of his engine faded down the street.
I waited until I couldn't hear him anymore before letting out the breath I was holding. This time I didn't follow him because what I wanted to know wasn't where he was going next but who he had just met.
I started my car and drove quietly back to where the factory's loading dock was visible, parking at the edge of the street where I could watch without being too obvious. There was no sign of the figure who had met Diesel, no movement at all, and the loading dock looked as abandoned and dead as the rest of the building.
I sat there for a few minutes watching and waiting, but nothing moved and no one appeared. Whoever Diesel had met was either gone or hiding somewhere inside that building where I couldn't see them from out here.
I got out of the car and walked carefully toward the dock, testing each step before putting my full weight down because the ground was covered in broken glass and debris that would crunch loudly under my boots if I wasn't careful. I froze every time something shifted in the darkness around me, straining to hear any sound that might mean someone was still here and aware of my presence.
Nothing but the sound of my own breathing and the pounding of my heart against my ribs.