Diesel leaned back in the chair. “It’s drugs. I told him he had to stop that shit and even offered to help him open a grow store where everything was legal. He said there was too much competition, and he enjoyed helping patients. What a load of shit. He’s been putting that junk on the streets. He knew I’d beat his ass if he told me, but he didn’t fool me.” He ran a large hand over his face. “He should’ve left the big leagues to people who knew what the fuck they were doing.”
“This is real bad.”
“No shit. Who’s this Peter asshole you were talking about?”
“Peter Cano. Freddy brought him in as a partner. At least, that’s what he told me, but I always thought Peter had sought out Freddy. The guy looks like a gangster. I never trusted him and got bad vibes from him.”
“Were they fifty-fifty partners?”
“That’s what Freddy said. I know he was intimidated by Peter. About four months ago, he told me he was getting sick of Peter and his brother. He never mentioned the brother’s name, but he thought they were in cahoots to cheat him and steal the businesses. He said they made fun of him. I suggested he buy them out and be done with them, but he said it wasn’t that easy. I think he may have owed Peter money or something.”
“For sure. The Denver clinics are probably fronts for bigger things. You said Freddy was in San Diego when he called you. What’s going on in San Diego?”
“He told me he was there. He started having business there and in LA once Peter came on board. I went with him on these business trips a couple of times but ended up spending most of the time alone, so I stopped going.” The truth was Freddy would stay out all night, then return to their lavish suite hungover and reeking of perfume. He didn’t even hide the lipstick stains on his face or shirt. They’d have a big fight; once he smacked her hard. The Freddy she’d fallen in love with would never have hit her. She’d decided to break away from him after one of their more vicious fights, but it was extremely tough. He’d been her everything, and Myla had been so lonely before they’d met. When he’d beaten the crap out of her, she had enough. A short while after that, a pool of blood was on the shiny hardwood floors, and Freddy had taken off.
“Was this asshole Peter on these business trips too?”
Focusing back on the conversation, she nodded.
“Is he from Denver or Southern Cal?”
“I’m not sure. Like I said, I didn’t have much to do with Peter. I think he had a condo on the beach somewhere in San Diego.”
An exasperated sigh escaped through his pursed lips.
Myla looked away. “I’m sorry I’m not much help. Freddy shut me out when Peter came into the picture. He’d become secretive and told me that all I should think about was how to spend the money. He was moody, prone to angry outbursts, and it seemed we began fighting more than ever. We had the big house, the fancy cars, the speedboat, more jewelry than I’d ever wear, but we weren’t in sync anymore. I wasn’t happy, and I doubt Freddy was. He became restless and suspicious of everything, even of me.”
“You?”
“He kept thinking I was cheating on him. I was taking classes at an art school. The instructor and I clicked on an esoteric level. Nothing was going on between us except mutual interest in the medium and respect for each other’s work, but Freddy was convinced we were having a torrid affair.”
Diesel’s intense gaze pinned her to the spot. “Were you?”
“No. Allan is a brilliant sculptor and artist. I admire his talent. He is also a wonderful teacher. I didn’t even know I had a knack for painting. I’ll admit it was nice talking to him and the other students about art because Freddy wasn’t interested in that. He never wanted to go to art museums with me.” She tipped her head and stared into those beautiful blue eyes. “You know, Freddy was convinced you and I had something going on through the letters we exchanged.”
Diesel jerked his head back. “What the fuck? That’s just stupid shit.”
“I know, but Freddy was threatened by it. That’s why I started writing less.”
A bemused smile played on his lips. “I wondered about that. I figured you found something better to do.”
“I liked writing to you. In a strange way, I sometimes felt closer to you than to Freddy.” She felt her cheeks grow warm. I can’t believe I said that. “That’s when Freddy was starting to get into the whole pain clinic thing,” she added hurriedly.
He stared intently at her, his gaze disarming in its fervor. “Your letters were the only sane thing I had during my stint.”
“I bet it feels good to be out.”
“That’s a fuckin’ understatement.” He stood up and went over to the minibar. “So, what are your plans now?” He took out another small bottle of whiskey.
“I’m not sure. I have to find out if Freddy’s okay. I need to know what’s going on, but I don’t know where to start.”
“I’ll take care of that.”
“I want to help you. You know, be part of it.”
“I’ll get some of the brothers to help. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“I need to do something.”
“You can stay out of it. I got this.”
She splayed her hands out wide to stretch, then relaxed them. “I’m not staying out of it.”
“We’ll talk about it later.” He threw back the whiskey and placed the glass on the table. “You’re not safe here. This jerk Peter is figuring you know something. It’s a matter of time before he finds you, especially if Freddy blabbed to him about where I live.”
“I’ve been looking over my shoulder since I got here.”
“I gotta think about this. I have to talk to Banger and Hawk to see what we can do.”
“Who are they?”
“Banger’s the prez, and Hawk’s the VP of the club. I’ll figure it out. I’ll be in touch.” He started to walk toward the door.
Myla leaped up. “Wait. What does that mean?”
A quizzical look spread across his face. “It means I’ll be in touch—you know, call you and let you know what’s going on.”
“I meant, when will I hear from you?”
“When I know something.” Diesel pulled out his phone. “What’s your new number?” After giving it to him, he said, “If you need me, call. I’ll text you my number.”
“Okay.”
Then he was gone.
From the window, she watched him ride away until his motorcycle disappeared into the distance. A sudden wave of loneliness washed over Myla, bringing a lump to her throat. She turned away, then perched on the edge of the bed and sobbed.
Chapter Three
Diesel opened the cooler, took out a can of Coke, and gulped down the cold liquid in one long pull. He crushed the can with his hand and tossed it in the wastebasket. Tugging his sweat-soaked T-shirt away from his chest, he strolled over to the reception desk.
“How many cars did you detail?” Jada asked.
“Three, and I’m done,” he replied.
“In that case, can you man the desk for me? I want to sneak out a little early tonight.”