Diesel nodded, unable to speak. Both their mother and sister were gorgeous, and they’d almost lost them to a crazy motherfucker whose days were numbered. “Her mother was excessively fond of her; and her grand-mother doted on her much more. This good woman got made for her a little red riding-hood; which became the girl so extremely well, that every body called her Little Red Riding-Hood.”
Axel blinked his sleepy green eyes, shining with unshed tears. “Do you think our grandmothers would’ve liked Rebel, Diesel?”
“I’m sure they would’ve been,” Diesel replied, almost certain he spoke the truth. From what he’d heard about Dinah Nicholls and Patricia Donovan, they’d loved their families, especially Aunt Meggie and Uncle Christopher. “More than likely, they would’ve adored her.”
“Would they be sad about what Rule did?”
“Yes,” Diesel said without hesitation. “I’m very sad about it.” He was also livid.
“Me, too,” Axel said around another sniffle. He yawned. “I want to see Mom and Rebel.”
“You will,” he promised. “By the time you go to sleep and wake up, they’ll be rested and ready to see you.”
He poked out his lower lip and leaned his head against Diesel’s shoulder.
Diesel closed the book, glad for the reprieve, but sorry for the reason. Now that he’d stopped reading, the silence of the room seeped into him and the scene he’d walked upon nearly six hours ago invaded him. He felt as if he’d jump out of his skin. He needed a hit so fucking bad, he almost brushed aside Uncle Christopher’s warnings, and called his dealer to buy enough coke to send him into a safe no man’s land for the next week.
Diesel swallowed, cold and clammy, muscles taut. To calm himself, he glanced around at his surroundings. The neutral yellow, blue, and green took away the sterile feel of most hospitals. Though primarily for his family, this special wing never lacked patients, equipped with intensive care resources and privileges that became regular medical management once the danger passed. Uncle Christopher and Mortician pumped a lot of money into the unit so it easily became an overflow area if the hospital needed it. As long as Aunt Meggie wasn’t admitted, if there were club members or their family there, the design allowed the unit to be split, one side cut off from the other to appease both the Death Dwellers and the hospital.
It was the first deal Uncle Christopher entrusted to Diesel without Kendall and Brooks’s oversight. A deal Johnnie knew nothing about.
A deal that turned spare rooms into damn near hotel rooms when Aunt Meggie was there and required a donation of one point two five million per quarter that was split between Uncle Christopher and Mortician.
For Aunt Meggie.
“If Meggie safe, Prez straight,” Mortician confided to Diesel. “Besides, Red and Meggie girl the closest I ever got to sisters. I want her safe too. Motherfuckers always gunning for her.We can breathe easier if she getting care inaccessible to other fuckheads.”
The deal happened two years before Gunner’s birth. Diesel brushed it off. With Rebel admitted, he couldn’t imagine life as a regular motherfucker without the power and influence of his family. They would lose their minds in the waiting room or trying to sleep on uncomfortable chairs.
“I want to hear it again.”
Axel’s sad little voice seeped into Diesel’s brain and brought him back from the brink. He couldn’t lose himself to his own misery because his family needed him. Especially Axel.
“I have a question.” Diesel set aside the illustrated reprint of Charles Perrault’s fairytales, first written in the 17thcentury. “Why do you like Little Red Riding Hood so much?”
“Cuz it’s the only thing we all like,” he said quietly.
“I don’t follow you.”
“Mom always read Mother Goose to us and Dad watched us one night cuz Mom went somewhere with Aunt Zoann. Dad got the pizza from the gate. CJ was playing video games and I was bored cuz I was six, just a little kid, so Reb got her book. She got us all to listen cuz she was so funny being Little Red Riding Hood and the grandma and she made Rule be the Big Bad Wolf. We didn’t want to fight her or nothing.”
Because of the trauma of the evening, Diesel wouldn’t question or reprimand Axel about fighting Rebel.
“A couple days later, Rule gave me a bunch of drawings. It was about Little Red Riding Hood.” He swiped at his wet cheeks and glared at Diesel. “Fuck that motherfucker. I’m tearing them all up.”
As much as Diesel agreed with that sentiment, he didn’t want Axel to regret ruining something so valuable to him that he’d kept it for almost five years. The backstory gave Diesel insight on why Axel insisted on hearing it repeatedly tonight. It broughthim back to a time when his brothers and sister were happy and safe.
“Now I understand why you insisted on packing it in your overnight bag.”
Kicking his leg back and forth, Axel nodded. “I want to read it to Mom and Reb. It makes it funner.”
“More fun,” Diesel said with a smile. “I admit I thought you’d given up on your favorite fairytale.”
Axel sidled a glare at him and continued kicking his leg.
“You’re aSpider-ManandSupermanfan now, although I still hold you in contempt for not choosing a Universe.”
“Objection,” Axel said, lacking his usual fervor. His little voice sounded sad and drawn. “Youlike both of them, so why can’t I?”
