Page 13 of Bleed Me

CHAPTER FOUR

“Alrighty, little boys, who’s driving next?” asked Diesel as he pulled the SUV alongside a gas pump. As it had been during most of the trip, his old rock-n-roll music was loud and without mercy. If I had to listen to “When You Close Your Eyes,” by Night Ranger on repeat one more time, I might have decided that throwing myself out of the speeding vehicle was a mercy all on its own.

Jesus. The badass biker was lost in music from before I was born.

He eyed me. “More complaints about my el music-o?”

I lifted my hands in surrender, zipping my busted lips.

He turned off the engine, giving my ears a break. Maybe there is a God.

The gas station wasn’t busy, but I kept my hoodie tucked over my head as Diesel had requested. My face was one that he didn’t want seen much until I grew a beard and let my hair grow longer, to disguise myself a little more—not that anyone could recognize me with all the facial swelling. I had assumed hiding was for the Wards’ sake. The thought that I would soon have a new identity was lost on me.

So young. I was so damn young and confused.

In the back seat with me, Scorch opened the door while volunteering, “I’ll drive.”

Diesel now glared at the passenger seat.

Art laughed. “I know the routine. To the back I go.” He opened his door and got out.

Prez leaned across the seat while shouting, “Hey! Pump the fuel while you’re at it.” He looked to the now empty seat next to me. “No offense, kid. I don’t do backseats.” As he got out of the driver’s seat, he swore under his breath, “I fucking hate cages.”

“Diesel?”

The big man leaned his tattooed arms on the top of the open doorway and ducked his head back in. “Yeah?”

Full of nerves for my future, I tugged on the front of my sweatshirt. “I, uh, don’t know what’s happening next, but, uh, thanks for trying to help me.”

He rested his head on his arms. “Ah, shit, kid.” I guess he realized I hadn’t been told anything. “You haven’t asked questions, so I assumed you knew what was up.”

I swallowed. “I’m not really sure I even know what a Prospect is—except for what I’ve seen in the movies.”

“Movies, huh?” After exhaling, he pushed off the SUV, then backed away to make room for Scorch. Diesel shook his head, chuckling. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.” He opened the back door and got in.

With wide eyes, I stared at him sitting in the back with me.

Not even looking at me, he growled, “Don’t you ever tell anyone about this shit.”

Honored, my throat tightened. “Won’t tell a soul.”

Click! Scorch’s cell phone snapped a pic.

“Motherfucker,” complained Diesel.

Examining his cell, Scorch laughed while wiping his hand down his barely maintained beard, like he was trying to cover up his mockery. “Oh yeah, this is going to get me out of a hot spot when needed.”

Diesel glared at me. “You happy now?”

I couldn’t help it. I smiled.

Back on the road, chowing down on the few snacks I was able to grab at the station, I sat next to the President of the Redemption Ryders. His broad shoulders took up the space between us. His ringed fingers curled into relaxed fists. On the top of his right hand, a tattoo read Will Find You in beautiful cursive script.

I had never noticed it before. I guess there were many things I had yet to notice about the man. With a side-eye glance at him, I managed to mumble, “The tattoo, what does it mean?”

His left hand rubbed the tat while he stared out his window with a look of lost remembrance on his face. His reply was brief and gruff. “A promise.”

Diesel didn’t disclose further, so I didn’t ask what that promise meant or whether he had kept it. I stayed quiet and opened a bag of my favorite type of Doritos—Cool Ranch because I just loved ranch—which brought back memories of Delilah’s surprise seventeenth birthday party…