His truck was positioned across the road, opposite the entry to the parking garage to the apartment building. He was seated where he was because the guy was out in his car. D should be able to spot him driving in.
If not, added insurance, there were cameras everywhere and no way, unless he was Spider-Man and went in through his window, could the guy make it into his apartment without D being able to give Sixx the heads up.
On the bottom right of the laptop screen, he watched Sixx break and enter.
Right, not so much breaking as picking, but she entered and the door wasn’t shut before he heard in his earbud, “I’m in.”
“See that,” he said in the transmitter, deciding he was going to ask her to show him how to pick a lock. “Have fun.”
“Always do,” she replied.
Reaching out to the binoculars because a car just then turned into the parking garage, he checked it out.
Chevy.
He was looking for a Ford.
The cool stuff over, Diesel settled in, alert, watchful of the front door he could also see, scanning even the cars that passed, checking the faces of anyone who appeared on the cameras.
He figured it’d get boring but the complex was a cush one off 1st Avenue. It was after eight thirty, but there was heavy traffic, car and foot, so there was always something to keep his eye on. And considering if he fucked this up, Sixx was caught and the guy was able to do the impossible—subdue her and call the cops—she’d face a felony charge, the stakes were high.
Even sitting in his truck, it was a rush.
So much so, fifteen minutes slid by and it felt like five.
“Anything good?” he asked in the transmitter. “Like an inspired porn collection?”
Sixx was laughing when she replied, “Dude’s b-o-r-i-n-g. But I’m in on his computer. Maybe he’s into Japanese sex anime.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” Diesel returned, speaking while thinking Sixx laughed a lot.
He was also thinking he used to do that.
A lot.
When he was with Tommy, before and after he left town. They yucked it up all the time, when they weren’t fucking.
He didn’t laugh much when he wasn’t with Tommy.
But he did when he arrived in Phoenix.
He’d had no money. No job. Was living in a shithole while he tried to get a life started.
And still, he felt light for the first time in his life.
Light.
Easy.
Free.
Life was good.
He ate crushed tortilla chips in salsa for breakfast lunch and dinner because it was all he could afford and he did this for months, until he scored a job that didn’t get him out of that shithole, but it did allow him to go to a burger joint for dinner.
And still.
Life was good.
From age twenty-two to twenty-eight, when he’d met Mad.
Then finding Maddox. Making him smile that cruel smile of his. Laugh that gravelly laugh. Doing both along with him.
That was more good.
Adding Molly and giving her the same.
That was all good.
He’d just simply had it good for the last decade.
And it all ended that night at the Bolt when he knew at the beginning of the scene how Mad was going to play it and he did just that, ending the scene displaying Diesel on his back on a padded table, sucking him off then fucking his ass while their mouths were connected.
Nope.
Not fucking his ass.
Making love to him.
After that, the laughter hadn’t died but it didn’t come as easy anymore.
Why?
They had it good. Nothing had changed.
So . . .
Why?
On that thought, his phone rang, he saw who it was and considered not taking it. Not because he didn’t want to talk to the caller, he always wanted to talk to her, but he had to keep tight for Sixx.
Still, she was only twenty minutes into a job that would take at least an hour and he had nothing to do but keep an eye out.
So he took the call and put it on speakerphone.
“Yo, sis,” he answered.
“This is not a voice from beyond the veil. This is me. Live and in Denver. Wondering why the hell I never hear from my brother,” Rebel returned.
He grinned at the computer screen.
Rebel.
Now Rebel could always make him smile.
“Wassup?” he asked.
“Wassup?” she repeated back to him.
“Yeah. Wassup?”
“Diesel, I haven’t heard from you in over a month,” she declared.
“I was unaware I had to report in to my baby sister.”
“Okay then, I’m now making you officially aware you have to report in to your baby sister.”
“Reb, baby doll, the phone goes both ways.”
“Yeah, and I just said into mine, ‘Call my asshole brother who doesn’t stay in touch,’ and we’re rapping now, aren’t we?”
Anyone else, he might get pissed.
Rebel, not a chance.
First, she was hard to get pissed at. She might be more about cinnamon than sugar, but she was still all sweet.
Second, she was just busting his chops since that, apparently, was what baby sisters were born to do.
Still, his baby sister had it down to an art.
Diesel looked through the binoculars at a car entering the garage (not their guy), but did it asking, “So, are you gonna tell me what’s up?”
“Are you sitting down?”
Shit.
“What?” he asked.
“Mom wants a family Thanksgiving,” she announced.
Fuck.
“She’s ticked you haven’t been home in a while,” she continued.
Shit.
“That would include you and Molly,” she went on.
Fuck.
“So,” Rebel continued, “while she’s burying herself even further in denial about who Maddox really is to you and Mol in order to buck up and phone you to ask you and Molly for Thanksgiving, at the same time making it clear Maddox is not welcome, but trying to do that politely, I thought I’d give you a heads up so you could think of a good excuse to tell her you can’t go without it being something like, ‘I’m bi, Ma, you don’t dig, you can go fuck yourself.’”
Diesel blew out a breath, staring hard at the feeds on the laptop screen.
“D, you there?” Rebel called.
“We’re looking at rings for Molly.”
Christ.
What was the matter with him?
Shit just kept vomiting from his mouth.
“Oh. My. God!” The last word was squealed with so much excitement, his sister lived in Denver, they were separated by masses of land that included mountain ranges and deserts, and he could still feel her thrill whisper across his skin.
He wanted to smile at that.
He wanted to get all puffed up like a man about to stake his claim to his future knowing he had it all.
He didn’t.
“I’m leaving them,” he let out.
Fuck!
“What?” she whispered.
Time to backtrack.
“Listen—” he began.
That’s as far as he got.
It was a wonder with Rebel and what just came out of his mouth that he got out the “L” sound.
“How are you buying Mol a ring in one breath and leaving them in the next?” she demanded to know.
“Right, Rebel, I’m in the middle of something right now and—”
“Oh no. Hell no, D. Are you and Maddox looking at rings for Molly?”
“I can’t talk about this right—”
“Are you?” she snapped.
“I’m gonna need to shut that down,” he told her, feeling his gut start aching to the point he felt sick.