“What is that?” I asked Ava Jade, gesturing to the brown box in her hands as we made our way out of the Nest.
She shrugged. “A gift.”
“You bought Diesel a gift?” Corvus asked, incredulous.
I nodded to Pinkie and Axel as they pulled out of the driveway first, letting them know we were right behind them.
AJ pursed her lips. “It’s his birthday, isn’t it? Did you not get him anything?”
“What did you get him?” Corvus asked her, answering her question with one of his own, making her roll her eyes as she opened the door for Becca to slide into the backseat first. Her friend scooched all the way to one side, letting AJ sit in the middle between her and Rook.
“It’s really nice,” Becca said. “I think he’s going to like it.”
“So you told her what it was but you won’t tell us?” I asked, pulling the driver’s side door shut at the same time as Rook and Corvus closed theirs, sealing us all inside the Rover.
“It’s not that big a deal. If you think I shouldn’t give it to him, then I’ll just leave it in the car.”
She was getting frustrated now. We’d made her uncomfortable. Corvus and I shared a look in the front.
Rook patted the box on her lap with a smirk in the rearview. “Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll love it, Ghost. We’d have gotten him something, but he has a strict no gifts policy for his own birthday.”
She lifted a brow in the rearview. “You could have told me that.”
Rook lifted a shoulder. “Didn’t think you’d be rushing out shopping.”
“I didn’t,” she argued. “I ordered it online.” A huff. “Fuck, I knew it was stupid. I’ll just leave it in the car. Maybe one of you will like it.”
“Sparrow, chill. Give him the gift. It might help soften the blow of…you know.”
I pivoted in my seat, watching her face darken as I looked out the back windshield, reversing out of the spot to drive us down the choppy gravel road. It was decided that tonight we’d tell Diesel about AJ’s stalker. How we suspected it was him who was to blame for the personal attacks against us and not the Aces.
Diesel was already made aware that we thought Becca’s boyfriend, the one who’d been acquiring dangerous intel about us, might be a King. He was working that shit out with the King leader, Maverick, who’d promised to turn Aries over as soon as he was found.
Either the man was a damn good fucking liar or Diesel was losing his touch because he believed they had no ill-intent toward us. And my father could sniff out a lie from a mile off.
But as good as he was, he didn’t know that AJ had a stalker. That we thought Aries and said stalker may be one and the same person.
Tonight, he’d find out.
I doubted AJ’s gift would soften his reaction, but it couldn’t hurt.
Becca squirmed in her seat, staring anxiously from the window. I tried not to be suspicious of her every action, word spoken, or tick of her face, but it was harder than I’d thought it would be.
I’d been on the voting side to drop her off at the Vandermark hotel on the way to Dies’, but she’d been insistent on coming to look out for AJ. Not just in the den of papa wolf, but later, at the Docks for the full moon party.
I didn’t know what she expected to be able to do if shit went south in any capacity, but AJ seemed content to have her with us at least for now. Tomorrow morning when we set off on the attack to obliviate the Aces and Dead Men, Becca would be deposited at the penthouse suite of the Vandermark hotel with hired security since we’d need all hands on deck for the fight.
At least she wasn’t foolish enough to think she could handle coming with us for that.
“He’s totally going to love it,” I heard Becca whisper to her friend before inching her window down to light a little pinner of a joint, blowing the smoke out into the slowly darkening evening.
“Want some?” she offered to AJ, who shook her head, but Rook reached over and took it from Becca’s fingers.
“Thanks, love,” he said, rolling his own window the whole way down, leaning his head back against the seat in the path of the wind as he inhaled deeply. Something was up with him lately. I couldn’t place what it was, but he was quieter than usual.
More reserved.
Less on edge.
I knew it was likely to do with the fact that he’d killed a healthy fucking number of people over the past couple weeks, including the things he did to Williams, but I couldn’t help feeling like there was something more to it than all that.
Even after a strike three, he was never this reserved.
He adjusted himself in his seat, pushing his hand into the pocket of his jeans and keeping it there as he took another toke of the joint.
“Hey,” Becca complained, reaching across AJ to steal it back from him before he could finish it. “God, ever heard of puff puff pass?”
Rook didn’t answer, staring out his open window as we turned onto Diesel’s road, the house ahead of us flanked by a line of Saint vehicles. A few of them loitering out by the rose bushes, smoking.
The space next to Diesel’s car in the driveway was reserved for us, and I pulled into it. “In and out,” I reminded the others. People were going to start showing up at the Docks in the next hour or so with or without us and with shit the way it was in Thorn Valley, we couldn’t leave that turf unprotected.
We got out of the car to the sound of Primal Ethos playing on the radio and Diesel smashing his fist on the front window from inside, giving a stern look at the lads smoking near his roses. They fell back to the driveaway, nodding at us in turn as we made our way inside.
Anthem of the Broken played low on Dies’ sound system from the living room, and it didn’t escape Corvus’ notice, a vein in his temple throbbing as he worked his jaw. No doubt overthinking what it might mean. Likely it was just The Edge, but if Diesel was as pissed at Corvus about his musical career as he originally seemed to be, he would’ve changed the station by now.
“Is that Primal Ethos?” AJ mouthed to me behind Corvus’ back, pointing through the wall to the living room on the other side, the box still under her arm.
It was a rhetorical question, but I gave her a nod anyway.
“What the fuck?” she mouthed.
I shrugged, noticing her wince as she shifted the box to her other side, rolling out her shoulder. She was getting scary good with that sniper rifle, but it came at a cost. I’d seen her shoulder when she stepped out of the shower last night, purple and blue in the shape of a rifle butt marring eight inches of milky skin in the groove between her shoulder and chest.
Even butting it properly, like I knew she was, it was still leaving marks. We’d need to give it a rest for a while.
“You good, AJ?”
She stopped rolling it and smiled. “Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing.”
I pushed past Corv to enter the living room, knowing she didn’t need the coddling, even if some foreign instinct inside me wanted to coddle her to fucking death sometimes.
“Hey,” I said, finding Dies with a cigar pinched between his first two fingers, standing in the middle of the living room as he told the mustard gas story to a few Kings seated on his low sofa. He looked up as I entered and stopped right before the climax of the story to the shock of his audience.
“Ah,” he said, eyes bright with drink. “There’s my sons.”
He ushered me into the living room, pulling me into his side to sling an arm over my shoulder. “You know these three, don’t you?” he asked, pointing the gray ash end of his cigar at the three Kings on his sofa. The middle one was Drake, the other two were Lucas and Avery. They were the ones Dies had agreed to implant into Briar Hall to beef up gang presence there.
Drake lifted his beer in salute as he stood to go and get a refill, while the other two said a lame hello, clearly wanting Dies to get back to his story.
“Happy birthday,” I told Dies, who blew off the sentiment.
“Don’t remind me.”
“What are you now, old man?” Rook said, slinking into the space to toss an arm around Dies’ other shoulder. Fifty seven? Fifty eight?”
Diesel balked at him, releasing me to put an offended hand to his chest. It was good to see him in good spirits. Between his birthday and Christmas, they were the only two days of the year we were guaranteed to see him smile.
“Fifty,” Diesel corrected Rook.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Corvus said, entering with Ava Jade and Rebecca Hart on his heels. “You’ve turned fifty the last five years and counting.”
Diesel leaned in close to Rook’s side, whispering in his ear. “That was meant to be our little secret.”
Rook laughed darkly, shaking his head.
It was a running joke among the gang. The oldest Saint members had been bringing balloons and cakes emblazoned with the number 50 for years with no signs of stopping the tradition. If Diesel survived to sixty, I had no doubt he’d turn fifty again that day, too.
“And look who decided to join us,” Diesel said, craftily changing the subject as his sights narrowed on Becca. “Come here, darlin’.”
Becca looked to AJ for guidance, paling, but AJ nodded her forward, a warning in her eyes meant for my father.
Becca came into the living room, swallowing as she took my father’s outstretched hand, and he turned it, lifting it to his lips. “Bygones?” he asked her, holding her gaze with his trademark stare. The one that could hold you captive for hours if he wanted it to.
She choked on her reply, clearing her throat before she echoed his sentiment. “Bygones,” she agreed.
Diesel grinned. “Good.” He tugged her hand, spinning her away toward the couch. “Have a seat, love. The King who was sitting there seems to have grown bored of my story, but I think you’ll like it just as much.”
AJ stood on her tiptoes, peering around into the kitchen, where a group of Saints chatted, beers in hand, weapons at the ready. No one would be getting drunk tonight, but the potential threat wouldn’t stop them from enjoying themselves. It was the one time a year Dies would have a drink with them, continuing the tradition his wife started of inviting the whole gang over for a birthday potluck each year.
“Is that Drake?”
“Yeah.”
“I wanted to talk to him.”
He looked like he was going out the back. “He’s probably gone for a piss. Wait till he gets back.”
She snuck a look at me, reading my suggestion for what it really was. A plea for her not to go off alone with him.
He was a handsome guy. I hated to fucking admit it, but it was true. And Rook was right. AJ did seem… interested.
I didn’t know whether I wanted to slit his throat or roast him over a fire. I might wind up having to do both. It didn’t matter if she’d already told me she intended to ask him about her father’s death. That conversation could easily go sideways.
Ava Jade chuckled to herself, walking to the couch. She jerked her head at the King next to Becca. “Move,” she said, and he ambled to his feet, giving up his seat for her.
She made no secret of being uncomfortable with the fact that Dies and Maverick seemed content to believe she’d just scared that creepy fucker, Aries, off. I mean, okay, she was scary, but only if you’ve done something to piss her off.
Or, maybe she was scary all the time. Judging by the way the other Kings looked at her, I was starting to think we’d just become immune to her.
She set the box down on her lap just as Diesel was about to start into the story anew.
“What’s that?” he asked instead, taking a drag of his cigar.
AJ clenched her teeth. “I wasn’t told about the no gifts rule.”
“No shit?”
“Nope,” AJ confirmed, her lips popping on the ‘p.’
Diesel glared down at the box like it personally offended him, but Rook jabbed him with an elbow, and he cleared his throat. “Well let’s open it then, shall we?”
AJ set it on the small ottoman in front of her and kicked it closer to him, nearly making the box topple to the carpet. Her forefinger spun the dented silver ring on her thumb, the one Rook gave her. It’d become something of a nervous habit over the past few weeks. Not for the first time, I told myself I’d get her one, too.
Something with a stone the color of her eyes. That actually fit her.
She should have one from each of us.
Diesel bent to ditch his cigar in an ashtray on the coffee table he’d pushed against the entertainment unit and lifted the box. He was still a bit unsteady on his leg, but was doing a good job of concealing it.
It pained me to know that he would likely use a cane in private for the rest of his life. It was a hard lesson learned for everyone, but sometimes lessons needed to leave scars to remind us not to repeat old mistakes.
Diesel pulled out a switchblade and carved through the tape on top of the box before re-pocketing it. He pulled out the item inside, letting the cardboard fall to the floor at his feet.
The conversation around us died the instant he held the leather jacket up to the light, his expression hardening.
Fuck.
Rook cursed under his breath and Corvus silently pinched the bridge of his nose.
“What?” AJ asked, glaring around at all the Saints watching Diesel carefully for a reaction.
We should’ve fucking told her.
I didn’t think she’d get him a goddamned gift, though.
Why would she need to know that the beat up leather jacket Diesel wore was the last gift he ever received from his late wife?
No matter that it was falling apart. That he’d paid seamstress after seamstress to repair it despite them telling him it was a lost cause or the fact that he wouldn’t agree to replace the lining or any part of it no matter the extent of the damage.
To AJ’s credit, it was a nice fucking jacket. She’d likely paid at least a grand for it. And it looked to be Diesel’s exact size. Thicker through the shoulders with additional leather and hand-stitched elbow patches. A muted matte black that seemed to absorb all light with a gunmetal silver zipper wider than my thumb, the pull tab custom fashioned into the Saint symbol.
Diesel lowered the jacket, laying it over the ottoman in front of him with a carefully crafted blank expression. “Was there something wrong with my jacket?” he asked AJ.
“Dies,” I tried. “She didn’t know.”
He held a hand up to silence me. “Answer the question.”
Getting angry now with all the eyes on her, AJ lifted her chin, and I winced inwardly. “Not if you like the hobo-chic look.”
Diesel turned his ire on me. “I think it’s time for you boys to go,” he said, and his stare brokered no argument. “Your Docks need manning.”
He whistled sharply. “Axel, Crowley, Derrik. You’re with them. Pack up. Get out.”
AJ, skin bristling, stood from the couch, eyeing the jacket like she might take it back but ultimately thinking better of it. She hauled Becca to her feet with her. I guessed we weren’t going to be having that chat with Diesel about AJ’s stalker problem tonight after all.
“Come on, Becks,” AJ said, her face red as she pulled Becca from the room.
Corvus whispered something to Dies, and our father clenched his jaw, but made no reply as Corvus stepped away, dropping his head instead.
“Later, Dies,” I said halfheartedly, and he gave me a nod, clapping Rook on his back as we all left, some of the fire gone out of him at whatever Corvus had said.
“What did you say to him?” I asked as we moved to follow the girls back out onto the street. We’d barely lasted fifteen minutes in there. To be fair, it was ten minutes longer than I thought we’d last with AJ and Becca in tow.
“I told him that Jacqueline would’ve liked Ava Jade, and he knows it… and that he really needs a new fucking jacket.”
I snorted. My brother wasn’t wrong.
From what we knew, Ava Jade was just a younger version of Diesel’s previous wife. Strong, with a spine sturdier than a roman column and sass for fucking days.
“What the shit was that all about?” AJ demanded, tearing open the door of the Rover a millisecond after I unlocked it.
“That shitty jacket he wears,” Rook said, sliding in beside her. “It was the last thing his wife ever bought him.”
“And no one fucking told me?”
“We didn’t exactly expect you to get him a gift,” I replied, reaffirming what we were all thinking.
“It’s his birthday. That’s what you do.”
“Even for people who once tried to have you killed?” Rook asked, cocking his head as I started the ignition.
“If they also happen to be the father of the three guys you’re fucking, then yeah. Even then.”
She grumbled wordlessly to herself while Becca pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, a blush on her cheeks.
“Oh, Ghost,” Rook joked, tugging her in against his side despite her protests. “You’re nicer than I thought you were.”
“Don’t make me fucking stab you, Rook. Let me go.”
She extricated herself from him, her glare sharper than her words.
He lifted a hand in mock surrender, digging into his right pocket for his blade to hold it out to her. “Don’t make promises you aren’t going to keep.”
She rolled her eyes at him and sank back into her seat, simmering in her frustration with arms crossed over her chest.
“I bet you he wears the jacket by Christmas,” I said, turning on the radio as I pulled out onto the road, waiting for Axel and the others to pull up behind us before leaving.
“Or he’ll use it for kindling in tonight’s bonfire,” Rook said, and I sent him a look in the rearview.
What the fuck, man?
He shrugged. “What? It’s the truth.”
