Chapter 89 89
Raven’s mocking smile lingered in my head long after she turned back to her bike. The rag in her hand moved in sharp, angry circles, like she was scrubbing away more than just grease.
I stood there staring at her, chest tight. Part of me wanted to say something more — maybe even try to bridge whatever this cold wall was between us. I didn’t want to be her enemy. Strangely, some small, stupid part of me wished we could be… not friends exactly, but at least not this. Not this constant sharp hostility. But it was obvious she didn’t like me. She didn’t want me here. And as much as I hated admitting it, that hurt more than I expected.
I hated that I cared.
With a quiet sigh, I turned away without another word or argument. There was no point pushing when the door was already slammed shut in my face.
Jax was still standing a few steps behind me, watching with that amused glint in his eyes.
“What interesting place did you say I can go?” I asked, even though I had zero real intention of caring about the answer. I just needed something — anything — to fill the awkward silence and get me moving.
Jax’s face lit up instantly. “Oh, you’re finally asking! Alright, let me give you the grand tour special. There’s the old ladies’ lounge — it’s actually kinda nice, with real couches instead of busted bar stools, a couple of TVs, and they keep the good snacks locked away from the brothers. Then there’s the game room upstairs — pool tables, darts, even an old-school arcade machine that still works half the time. And if you’re into quiet, there’s this little spot behind the garage where some of the guys smoke when they don’t want the whole club hearing their bullshit.”
He kept talking, voice light and easy, filling every bit of space between us. I nodded occasionally but barely listened, my mind still stuck on Raven’s cold eyes and that mocking little smile.
“But if you don’t mind,” Jax continued, flashing that gold tooth again, “let’s head to the kitchen first. Best coffee in the compound, and I’m starving even if you’re not.”
“Okay,” I answered with no argument, my voice flat.
Jax grinned wider. “See? This is why we’re gonna get along great, bounty girl.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t bother correcting him. At least walking gave me something to do other than sit in Diesel’s room replaying last night over and over in my head.
The kitchen turned out to be a surprisingly large space at the back of the clubhouse — stainless steel counters, a massive fridge, and the smell of fresh coffee mixing with leftover grease from breakfast. Jax moved around like he owned the place, pouring two mugs and sliding one toward me.
“Cream? Sugar? Or are you one of those tough girls who drinks it black like the boss?” he teased.
“Black is fine,” I muttered, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. The heat felt good against my still-shaky fingers.
We sat at the small table in the corner. Jax kept the conversation going with stupid jokes about the brothers and stories about bike races gone wrong, but I only half-heard him. My thoughts kept drifting to what I claimed I didn’t want to do… Diesel’s hands on me last night, the low rasp of his voice, and the way my body refused to forget any of it.
I pressed my thighs together under the table, heat creeping up my neck at the memory.
Jax noticed my silence and leaned forward, tone turning a little more serious. “Hey… you okay? Still thinking about Raven? Just forget it. She can be a lot. She’s protective of the club…”
I let out a frustrated breath. What kind of talkative bodyguard is this? I thought, but before I could respond, the heavy front door slammed open with a sound that echoed through the halls.
The entire building seemed to hold its breath.
Heavy, purposeful boots thudded against the floor. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. My body already reacted — pulse spiking, skin tingling.
Diesel appeared in the kitchen doorway like a force of nature. His black shirt was streaked with dirt. His leather cut hugged those broad shoulders, and those storm-gray eyes swept the room once before locking straight onto me.
My breath caught.
He looked exhausted. Dangerous. And so damn intense it made my stomach flip and my core ache at the same time.
Right behind him, Hawk walked in, holding a small sachet of alcohol in one hand, looking like he’d just come from patching someone up.
Diesel didn’t even glance at Hawk. He crossed the space in three long strides and stopped right in front of me. His gaze dragged slowly over my body — checking for any new marks — before settling on my face.
“Told you—” Hawk started.
Before he could finish, Diesel cut in, his voice dropping into a low, guttural stream of Spanish.
“¿Pasó algo mientras yo no estaba?” (Did anything happen while I was gone?) Diesel asked Jax, the words sharp and fast, clearly meant to hide the conversation from me.
I kept my face blank, pretending I didn’t understand a single word. If my father is a deadbeat, I think I got that one thing from him, I thought bitterly. I could speak three different languages fluently — Spanish being one of them — but right now, silence was my best weapon.
“Told you — no shit can happen,” Hawk replied in the same language.
“Is there anything the problem?” Jax asked back in Spanish, his tone casual but alert.
Diesel’s eyes never left mine as he answered, still in Spanish. “Her house was broken into. The one she was living in before.”
My heart slammed so hard against my ribs I almost gasped out loud. I gripped the mug tighter, forcing my face to stay neutral while my mind spun. My apartment…
Hawk snorted and continued in Spanish. “Donald can’t be that petty to break into her house. He can be a shit, but not that petty. It’s that scumbag that got kicked out by Donald.”
Kicked out, I thought, my pulse thundering.
Hawk went on, “He has a leg now. I guess one brain got missing too. Forget about him — he’s just looking for somewhere to pour his anger…”
One leg… The words hit me like ice water.
Tyler…
It slammed into me instantly. Tyler — the man Diesel had shot in the leg that night in the alley. He was alive. And apparently stupid enough to come after me again.
I managed to keep my mouth shut, but my reaction must have shown for a split second because Hawk’s eyes flicked to me with sudden suspicion.
I quickly masked it, blinking innocently as I looked up at Diesel. “Is something wrong?”
Diesel studied me for a beat, then shook his head. “No.”
He turned to Jax, switching back to English. “You can go. I’ve got her now.”
Jax nodded once, gave me a quick grin and a mock salute, then slipped out of the kitchen without argument.
The moment Jax was gone, Diesel reached for my hand. His fingers closed around mine — warm, firm, and impossibly steady. Without another word, he pulled me gently but possessively toward the door, leading me out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
My heart was still racing from what I’d just overheard.
Tyler was out there.
And he was looking for me.
But strangely… I wasn’t scared.
Not really.
At this point, I just trusted Diesel. Deep down, I believed in him
Just that…….