11. Jason

11

JASON

It took everything I had not to follow after Tara. I could tell by the way she was watching me that last night and this morning has freaked her out a little bit. If I didn't already know that she and I are meant to be together, then I would probably be in the same situation she's in.

I need to just be patient with her and let her catch up. The Pres is still not happy with me. It's obvious by the way he grunts and mutters anytime I come around. I go over to the bar to help out. There’s still a lot of work to do, and this way I'll be able to stay out of the Pres' hair and also make the time go by quicker. I forgot to tell Tara I need to lie low from town for a while. I'll have to call her later.

Hours later, I'm sweaty, tired, and half out of patience, but I'm obviously not the only one. Diesel is nailing a board along the bar when I hear him scream, "Fuck" and then toss the hammer away.

I can't help but laugh at his dramatic ass. "What's wrong? Hit your finger?"

He's shaking his hand wildly in front of him. "Yeah. I hit my finger. It fucking hurt too."

I stand up to my full height and stretch to the left, then right, front, and back. I've been squatting most of the day, and I can feel it in my back and legs. "I'm going to grab a drink. You want one?"

Diesel nods. "Yeah. I need something."

I walk over to the refrigerators and grab two bottles of beer. I no sooner set the beer in front of him and take my seat than Diesel starts to complain. "What the hell are we even doing here, Jason?"

I look around the bar and back at him. "I mean, it's obvious, right? Trying to get this bar ready to be open."

He huffs in frustration. "That's not what I mean. I mean, what are we doing here in Tennessee?"

I twist off the lid of my bottle and take a big swig. I wipe off my mouth with the back of my shirt and shrug my shoulders. "We're doing the exact same thing we did in Texas."

Diesel slaps his hand on the table. "That's just it. We're doing the exact same thing. Aren't you tired of it?"

I think about what he's asking me, and I don't have to think about it long. "No, I'm not tired of it. This is what I'm meant to do. We help people. That's what we do."

Diesel finally takes a drink of his beer. I'm thankful for it. Maybe he'll shut up for a minute. It's not that I don't know where he's coming from—I've been in his position before wondering where I'm meant to be or what I'm meant to do. He hasn't been part of the Guardians MC for long. And I know the adjustment takes a while.

He swallows the beer and then looks around the bar. When he sees no one else with us, he leans forward. "I know what we do here is a good thing. We save people. That's it. If you put it simply, that’s what we do, but don't you hate that we never get any credit for it?"

I shrug. "We do get paid for it. We get paid well for it."

"That's not what I mean," he says.

I shake my head, hating that Diesel is going down this road. "You know we can't openly take credit for the things that we've done or will do in the future. It's important that we keep our anonymity because the fact that no one knows who we are or what we do, that's why we're able to save people. It's the same thing with Walker's ghost team. They're in and out and never get any recognition for it."

Diesel is nodding his head. "I get it. I know. I know exactly what you're saying. All I'm saying is, it sucks. And I'll be honest; I wasn't ready to leave Texas yet."

"If you ask me, it's good you got out of Texas. I was worried about you there."

Diesel stares down at the beer bottle in his hands. He picks at the label and starts to ramble on. "Fuck, man, I was worried about myself, but I still wonder if it was the best time for me to leave. If Brandy comes back..."

I shake my head, and it's my turn to slam my hand onto the table. "She left, man. She left you. No note, no reasoning, no excuses, nothing. She left. Wouldn't answer your phone calls or anything. You need to get her out of your head."

"I know I do. It just doesn't make sense. It's like I need closure. I can’t stop thinking about her. I really thought she was the one."

I lean back in my chair and look up at the large beams of wood overhead. Never did I think that I would become some kind of therapist or anything. "Look, dude, this is where we're at. You signed on to come here, and now you need to make the best of it. Forget about Brandy. Forget about the past."

He finishes off his beer and stands up, tossing it into the trash can that's next to us. "You're right. Let's get back to work." I stand up and grab the board that we were hammering into the bar. We both get back to work with no more talking between us. I start to get lost in my head, thinking about Diesel and how he felt about Brandy. And I start to understand it a little bit more.

What would I do if Tara just up and left without saying a word to me? I wouldn't handle it half as well as Diesel has. With that thought in mind, I know that I want to go see her today. I told Pres that I would lay low, but maybe I can get into town and out without making a scene. I just need to see her and make sure she's okay. She was pretty freaked out this morning when she left. And I know I told her I would give her time, but the time I'm going to give her, I'm going to make sure she doesn't forget about me.