Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
I'm beyond frustrated, and I want to scream and punch the wall, but I know that's not going to get me anywhere with the old man. I notice the chair across the tiny room and go over and sit in it. There's a pile of wood on the ground between us, and I pick it up and then pull a knife from my pocket. I sit there for a few minutes, taking strips of wood from the piece in my hand.
It's only once I have the outside clean that I look up at the old man. He tries to appear as if he's not watching me as he gets back to his own whittling. "You ever say something to somebody and realize as soon as it leaves your mouth that you never should have said it?"
He nods. "Plenty of times."
I keep working on the piece of wood, even though there's no way it's going to turn into anything great. I'm too frustrated to even concentrate on what I'm doing, but I keep my hands busy. "Well, that's exactly what I did with Brandy. I said something I shouldn't have, and she took it to heart. You know her, you probably know her better than anyone. She's running from me because she's scared.” I hold my hands up. “Not because she's scared of me but scared of the way I make her feel. She doesn't trust me, but she should. I wouldn't hurt her for anything."
The old man doesn't look up at me; he just shrugs his shoulders. "It looks to me like you already did. She was holding back tears here last night before she ran out of here."
"Fuck," I mutter. "I've really fucked this up. You got a phone?" I ask him.
He nods and pats his front pocket.
"Will you put my number in? If you hear anything, if she needs anything, I want you to call me." He takes the phone from his pocket and holds on to it tightly as if I'm going to reach across and grab it from him. I recite my number to him, and he puts it into his phone.
"What's the name?" he asks.
"I'm Diesel," I tell him.
He nods, types into his phone, and then puts the phone back into his pocket. "No promises. I'll only call you if she says I can. I've not always done Brandy right, but I'll never betray her."
I know I can't ask more from him than what I already have. I drop the piece of wood back into the basket, close my knife, and pocket it before standing up.
I stop at the door before walking through it. "Seriously, if she needs anything, call me."
But the old man doesn't answer; all he does is nod his head. He keeps whittling his piece of wood, dismissing me.
I walk out of the building and back to my bike. I have no idea where or how I can find her, but I know I can start at the club.
We have some of the best tech guys in the nation. Hell, if I need to, I can call Walker in Whiskey Run. His guys can definitely find her with their national security clearance. I make it back to the clubhouse in record time and ask to speak to the Pres.
He sits down with me, and I start to tell him the story of what happened. I don’t leave anything out and don’t sugarcoat it. At the end, I plead with him to help me find her.
"Brother," he says, shaking his head. "It's one thing if we thought she was in danger, but she's not. She left here on her own volition. We can't use the resources we have to find her if she doesn't want to be found. Give her a few days, give her some time. I'm sure she's going to reach out to you."
I’m pissed, and I wouldn’t normally talk back, but I’m over this now. “Are you kidding me right now?”
He shakes his head and looks at me with pity. I'm not happy with Pres at all, but before I do something I regret, I get up, slam my hand on the table, and walk out in frustration. Last night, I thought it was a small argument. Fuck, I was hoping for some makeup sex. Never did I imagine that it would be the end of our relationship. If I’d known, there's no way I would've let her leave my room. Now all I can do is hope that she comes back to me.
Chapter 12
Brandy
Thinking back on it, a month later, I realize that I probably acted foolishly. I never thought I was someone that overreacted, but obviously I did in this case. I blame it on the shock of finding out Diesel had been shot. I should have stayed and talked to him. I should have tried to work things out. I was gone for a week before I made it back into town. I could have probably gone back to the clubhouse and gotten my old job back, but I didn't want to. I couldn't imagine being there with him gone. I knew that since he left, I needed to do whatever I could to move on, and going into the clubhouse day in and day out was not going to work for me.