Page 26 of Shattered Pieces

Now that I had time, I took Marco’s car to my house to get changed out of my wrecked leathers, sliding my Devils jacket on, before driving to the Shed. My body ached so badly, but I had to keep pushing. There was no time to rest up.

Matteo barked something at me as I shoved past him at the front entrance, beelining towards Skeeter, who was at the bar talking to Diesel.

“Was it you?” I snapped, grabbing the front of his jacket and hauling him closer.

“Get the fuck off me,” he bit out, shoving me away. “You think you can just walk in here now?”

“Answer me. Was it you?” I demanded, a small frown tugging at his mouth.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Hey, time-out,” Diesel declared, pushing between us and putting his arms out to keep us apart. “Keep it bullet-free. We just patched up all the damn bullet holes.”

“Someone shot Marco today. Shot my bike out from under me too. Was. It. You?” I asked sharply, and I saw it. The flicker of panic. He was worried about us.

“Someone shot at you?” he finally asked, calming me slightly at knowing it most likely wasn’t him. I stepped back, pushing Diesel’s hand off my chest.

“Yeah. We were on our way back from Fairview and were about an hour away from Ashburn when a van shot at us. My bike’s fucked and I’ll need new gear, but I just got bruised up a whole lot from hitting a fence at the end of my slide. Mark has a bullet wound in his side but he’s sleeping it off. It really wasn’t you?”

“No. You’d know if it was me because I’d want you to know,” Skeeter scoffed.

“Did you see Donovan?” Diesel asked absently, wincing as Skeeter gave him a dirty look. “Never mind.”

I wanted to punch Skeeter. Diesel had never been the same since Sasha died, but part of him had been shining through again lately, thanks to Rory. If he wanted to ask about her, he fucking could.

“I didn’t see her, no. Can’t until Wednesday. I was visiting Lexi,” I answered, not really wanting to give Skeeter any information, but wanting Diesel to know I was looking out for her. “She was in Medical last night. Hot tea was thrown over her. She’s getting some friends, so she’ll be fine.”

“Tell someone who gives a fuck,” Skeeter muttered, motioning to the door to silently tell me to leave.

“She never did a damn thing wrong to you, and you tossed her aside like shit after you were the one that wasn’t there for her,” I said with disgust. “Even if you didn’t trust me with her, that girl’s more loyal to you than any asshole in this room. Pull your head out of your ass and go and see her.”

He laughed, the sound bitter. “She’s all yours, man. While you’re at it, you want to tell me where the Mustang is? That conniving cunt doesn’t deserve a single damn thing of Slash’s. You can fucking tell her that too.”

“They’re legally hers, idiot.”

“She can fight me on it when she gets out in twenty-five to never. I changed the locks on the house. She’s got the car somewhere, so you’d better find out when you see her,” he warned, making me laugh.

“I hope that fucker haunts you in your sleep. I’m not asking her where the car is, she doesn’t even know. I put it somewhere you won’t find it because I knew you’d pull something like this. The fuck is wrong with you?”

He looked ready to shoot me, and I knew my odds weren’t great if they decided today was the day they took me out.

I turned and walked out without another word, not surprised when Diesel followed.

“I swear, it wasn’t us,” he said, snagging my arm to stop me from getting into Marco’s car. “Marco’s good?”

“No, he’s not fucking good, D,” I spat, opening the car door just to slam it shut again with frustration. “They fucking gave him morphine in the hospital. Never checked his medical history to know he can’t touch anything like that.”

“They what?” he bit out, anger hitting him hard. If anyone understood the work Marco had put into getting sober, it would be Diesel.

“Josie tore them a new one and secured him good rehab if he needs it, but that’s not the point. He struggles so badly with it, and this just puts him back to the start.”

“Should he be home alone?”

“He’s with Ty.”

He was quiet for a second before speaking quietly. “And Rory? How bad is the burn?”

“She’ll be okay. I’ll meet up with you Wednesday night, if you want? I can let you know how she is after I see her,” I offered, relief taking over his whole face.