Chapter 99 99
DIESEL POV
I stood by the bike, watching Daisy walk back from the ice cream counter with two cones in her hands and that full, unguarded smile lighting up her face.
That smile. Fuck, that was all I wanted — to see it on her every single day.
She stopped in front of me and lifted one cone toward my mouth, head tilted, eyebrows raised in that cute, hopeful way. “Try it,” she said softly.
I didn’t take it from her. I bent down and licked straight from the cone she held, my lips brushing her fingers. The cold sweetness barely registered. All I noticed was how her smile widened, bright and real.
We played a few more games after that. She dragged me to the shooting range machines, laughing when I let her win the first round, then groaning when I destroyed the targets in the second. “Unfair,” she called me, eyes sparkling.
When we finally stepped outside, that peaceful smile still lingered on her lips. I helped her with the helmet, then swung onto the bike. She climbed on behind me and wrapped her arms tight around my waist, cheek pressed to my back.
The whole ride home, I felt her calm. Her body relaxed against mine, warm and trusting.
Halfway there, she muttered into my leather cut, “Thank you.”
Two quiet words, but they hit hard. My chest tightened in a way I wasn’t used to. I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I revved the engine louder and leaned into the next bend, pushing the bike a little faster. She startled, then squeezed me tighter and burst into light, breathless laughter.
For those few minutes, everything felt simple. Just her arms around me, her happiness bleeding into my back, and the road stretching ahead. I wanted to bottle that feeling. Keep it locked away.
But as we neared the compound gates, the peace shattered.
Broken glass glittered across the gravel lot like jagged teeth. Two bikes lay toppled on their sides. The main door hung wide open, spilling harsh light into the darkness.
I eased off the throttle and rolled in slowly, eyes scanning every shadow. When I killed the engine, Daisy slid off faster than usual and yanked her helmet off. Her hair was a wild mess, and her face had gone pale as she took in the damage.
A handful of brothers stood tense and armed near the entrance. No one needed to say a word. I already knew.
“Stay right beside me,” I told her, voice low.
We walked inside. The main room was trashed — chairs flipped, bottles shattered, the sharp smell of spilled liquor hanging thick in the air.
Hawk moved toward us, face grim.
“What the fuck happened?” I asked.
“Donald,” he said simply. “And you already know why.” His eyes flicked to Daisy.
Rage surged hot through my veins. My jaw clenched until it ached. How fucking dare he. The peaceful night I’d just given her — the ice cream, her laughter, that soft “thank you” against my back — ruined because of that snake. Her smile was gone now, replaced by fear.
My gaze dropped to the gun tucked in Hawk’s waistband.
“I’ll be right back,” I growled.
I reached over, yanked the gun free, and cocked it with a sharp click.
Before I could take a step, a small hand clamped around my arm.
Daisy.
She looked nothing like the girl who’d been laughing on the bike minutes ago. Pale. Eyes wide with fear, lips pressed tight, shoulders rigid. But beneath the terror, that stubborn spark I’d seen the night we met still flickered.
At first I thought she wanted to stop me. I was ready to shut that down fast.
Until she spoke.
“I’m going with you.”
The words landed like a slap. My grip on the gun tightened, knuckles white. She sounded quiet but steady, her fingers digging into my arm like she could actually hold me back.
I turned slowly and looked down at her. “No. That’s never happening.”
Her grip only tightened. “Diesel, he wants me. Let me talk to him. Just one word. If it can end this—”
“You think Donald listens to words?” I stepped closer, towering over her. “You’re not stepping one foot near him.”
“Jax,” I barked without breaking eye contact. “Take her upstairs. Keep her safe.”
Before Jax could move, Daisy lunged for the gun in my hand.
I twisted fast, yanking it out of reach and gently but firmly pushing her wrist back. The whole room tensed — brothers shifting, hands hovering near their own weapons.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Daisy?” My voice rose, raw.
“Everything!” she screamed, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her chest heaved, shoulders shaking. “Every single fucking thing is wrong with my life! I’m tired, Diesel. So tired of running and hiding and being the reason people get hurt. If going with him stops the blood… then let me go.”
The broken crack in her voice hit me harder than anything Donald could do. The bright, laughing girl from the arcade — the one who’d fed me ice cream and called me unfair — was gone. In her place stood someone exhausted, desperate, carrying too much for too long.
I lowered the gun and handed it back to Hawk. Then I stepped in close and lifted her chin with two fingers, forcing her tear-streaked face up to mine.
“You’ll see him,” I said, voice low and final. “You’ll say whatever you need to say. But the second he looks at you wrong, I put a bullet in his skull and end this for good.”
Her breath hitched. For a moment the entire room seemed to hold its breath with her.
I didn’t wait for an argument.
My hand closed around her wrist — firm, unyielding — and I pulled her toward the door. She stumbled once but quickly matched my long strides, her smaller steps hurrying beside me as the brothers parted silently.
She had no idea what she was walking into.
But she wasn’t walking into it alone.