Dillon: A Wings of Diablo MC Novel, Lake, B. [if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud .txt] 📗

"As a nomad, I figured you were looking for a new home. Are you done with the Wings?"

The shock of what he is saying slams into my gut. Is that what everyone thought? That I was looking for a new family? I didn't want to start over; I just didn't deserve to be with them. I had failed them and this was my punishment.

"No, I'm not looking for a new family. I just can't be with them right now. The Wings of Diablo will always be my family."

"I figured. That's going to be hard for Wyatt to swallow though."

"What? Why?" I didn't understand why Wyatt would have a problem with me wanting to go home.

"You may no longer believe it Wire, but you're a leader. Your very presence brings people to heel. It's like you’re a fucking free agent right now. They all want you on their team. I've no doubt that they are going to try and get you to stay with them at some point. I would actually feel better if you did."

I had no choice, but to scoff at that. I was no good to anyone. Not the way I am right now. "They don't want me. I’m sure that they don't. I've done nothing, but make a fucking mess out of everything."

Genie squints his eyes at me and walks over to where I'm sitting. "Wire ... Scratch that. Dillon, you need to figure out where you went wrong. I've never seen you like this. Even when you were a little fucking tyke running around doing odd jobs for Prime, I've never seen you like this. That confidence is something that you can't lose. Whatever you think you did, however you think you failed you need to forgive yourself for it and move on. That shit is going to eat you alive. I know, I've seen it firsthand. You're absolutely right when you say that no one is going to want you like this. This …" He waves his hand in the air indicating me, "isn't Wire. I don't know who you are."

I don't need to answer him, because there is nothing I can say to prove to him that I'm not exactly that—an imposter. Just a shell of who I once was.

A few minutes later the cops come in the room and allow me to leave. They take down my information and apologize for the misunderstanding.

Genie has his driver take me to the motel, but by now I'm no longer tired. The booze has already worn off and all I want to do is be out on the road. I can't bear to sit in one spot for too long with my thoughts, especially sober.

All the shit that Genie had said struck a fucking chord in me. I just felt like more of a failure, because I couldn't shake this shit off. I don't think I would ever be the man that they all wanted me to be again. Especially when a major part of who I am is missing. Until I figure out where Keeley is, there is no need for me to even entertain getting myself together. No. It's the road for me and my inner demons as my brothers.

Dillon

The ride over to Maine is cold and long, but after a few days I finally make it to the Boys of Djinn clubhouse. Only something has changed. Before they used to keep the clubhouse for just business and to entertain. From what it looks, I would think that they are all staying there now. I wonder what had caused the change.

I park my bike at the back of the building. The music is blaring loud, and no one is guarding the back door. Fucking amateurs. I’m all for having a good time. Though for a bunch of people that either used to be or still are part of counterintelligence you would think that maybe they would watch their asses a bit better. If this is the shit that they did over in the FBI it wasn't surprising shit slipped through the cracks.

I take a few steps toward the front of the clubhouse, but a sudden idea crosses my mind. Why not have a little fucking fun with them? I just hope none of them shoot on sight. That would fucking suck.

I jimmy one of the windows open and making sure not to aggravate the alarm system. The wires are visible, so I know that they are only linked to the bottom. Fucking amateurs. I pull the top panel down and slide right into the clubhouse. No alarms, no security, no cameras, there’s nothing. I shudder at the thought of how damn easy it would be for someone to roll up on them and do some real damage. All this shit needs to be rectified and fucking immediately.

"That's not my fucking issue. Wyatt will take care of it." I reprimand myself. I had my chance to lead and I blew it. I can't go around now telling folks what they should and shouldn't be doing when it came to their club. Fuck, my opinion is worth shit right now.

I walk through the club, opening every one of the bedroom doors. Toss some shit around and even walk into the fucking church. Still, they are outside partying it up, completely unaware that they have someone right on their ass.

After about ten minutes of me waiting for someone to catch me the joke was starting to wear thin. This shit was dangerous. I move over to one of the windows and open it so the rudimentary alarm sounds. Then I make my way by the door. I want to see how they come in.

I shake my head in disgust when the music is abruptly cut off and I hear them all yelling outside.

"Someone's in the clubhouse!"

"Fuck out of here. That's impossible. We've been sitting out here this entire time. There is no way." It sounds like Cody