Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
JOHN PAUL “FRENCHIE” NORMAN
One Year Later
I’m singing “Crazy Train” by Ozzy as I work on the engine of a soccer mom’s minivan. I feel my soul dying a little with each car I work on that isn’t a race car or a car that revs so beautifully it sends shivers down my spine like the Ford Mustang GT I can hear a few blocks over. I have bills to pay and people who work for me depend on a paycheck. I made a name for myself in the racing circuit to work on their cars but when the season is over, things slow down. The last of one of my guys is cleaning up his work station.
“Hey boss, do you need me to stay and work on anything else?” I look around the shop and see we have four cars in different stages of work plus two outside waiting for us to service.
“I thought you had a big date tonight.” I raise an eyebrow at Eric. He blushes. He’s a young kid and I can remember being that age. I was a dog when I was his age.
‘“She had to cancel. I’m free tonight if you need help. It would also help me expand my skills on what I can do.” He shuffles his feet as if he’s embarrassed. We all had to start somewhere.
“I don’t mind you working and I’m here to help you. Don’t forget you can always shadow one of the mechanics as well. If I’m working on something you’ve never done, let me know.” He nods and heads over to the SUV. We work in silence for a few hours. My stomach growls and I realize it’s almost nine. “Damn. I’m hungry. Want to order a pizza or call it a night?” I finish the engine of the minivan and watch Eric for a little bit before working on Liam’s truck. He wants me to give it a once over since he’s giving this to Peyton for his next birthday.
“We should probably call it a night. We have a long day tomorrow. Didn’t Renee say we have the school buses in the morning?”
I groan.
“Fuck. I forgot about that. Why is she trying to make me be a good business owner for the community?” I roll my eyes with a smile on my face. Renee is an old family friend who is in her early fifties who lost her husband to cancer a couple of years ago. My mom reached out to me to see if I could give her a job to get Renee out of the house. She’s had such an important role in this business, keeping everything organized, making sure bills are paid, and this place runs even when I go out of town for races with the guys. I truly would be lost without her. We walk over to the three sinks I had built in for us to wash our hands. I wanted to keep the bathroom clean since our customers use them as well. “Go get some sleep. You helped a lot. Make sure you add in the overtime for helping me tonight.”
“It was you teaching me so it wouldn’t be working.” Eric knows about business and money since his family owned a shop, so he is always worrying about my bottom line.
“Teaching and working are the same thing, man. I want you to make sure you’re getting paid for the work you do.” I slap him on the shoulder. We part ways and he gets in his Camaro to head home, and I retreat to my apartment which is above the shop.
I open the door and sigh in relief. Today was a long ass day. I take the hottest shower I can to take away the stress of it all. I towel off and walk into my kitchen to see what I have to eat.
When I was younger, all I wanted was to be my own boss. Make my own hours, have people work for me and bring in the money. I worked myself to the bone to get Wicked Wheelz Garage to what it is today. So much blood, sweat and tears. No social life, missing out on things with my family, but it’s finally getting there. I can now be choosy about what I work on and my mechanics are making a name for themselves to be picky too. Falling behind like I am right now means I’m up before the sun working in the shop before it opens and well after it closes. I don’t punch a time card like my guys.
I need to go to the grocery store tomorrow. I wonder if I could get my mom to do it for me. I check the clock on the stove and see it is too late to text her. “I will text her tomorrow.” I grab my phone off the table and make a note to ask her about it. I throw the frozen pizza in the oven and put on a movie while I wait. I scroll my phone to see what’s going on in the world while I bust my back to make a living. I see Liam just got back from a vacation with his lady friend Kaylee, and Peyton. When our old race coordinator threatened Peyton’s life if Liam didn’t race for him in the Vegas Invitational we knew we had to do something. I’m just glad we found Femme Fatale Security. Those chicks know their shit. They are fun as hell too. Liam and Kaylee finally gave in to their attraction and now we are one big happy family.
The oven beeps and I pull out the pizza, my stomach growling louder than one of Liam's engines on race day. As I slice the pizza, my phone buzzes with a message.
MOM:
Did you eat yet? Don't forget you need your strength. xo
I love my mom. She always makes sure to sometimes triple-check on me. To be honest, my attention span is sometimes shorter than a fuse on a firecracker. I chuckle, thinking about how Renee always keeps me on my toes.
ME:
Just about to. Made myself a gourmet frozen pizza. Thanks, Mom. :)
Before I can set the phone aside, another buzz startles me.
LIAM:
Hey Frenchie, poker at my place tomorrow night at eight. Don’t be late.
LIAM:
We need to talk.
I stand straighter next to the counter all thoughts of my pizza out of my mind. What do we need to talk about?
ME:
Is Peyton okay?
LIAM:
He’s fine.
ME:
What’s the meeting about then?
LIAM:
Don’t be late. Heading to bed since Kaylee has an early morning.
I pace the floor a little bit thinking about what it could be. I mean, it was a private chat and not the group chat. I think back to conversations with Liam but I haven’t really talked to him because he’s been busy with life and I’ve been busy with work. Liam's got a serious tone to his texts that means business.
I grab my food and head into the living room, relaxing on the recliner to eat my pizza and have a beer to get my mind to shut off. I finish up my pizza with the speed of a pit stop at Daytona, knowing full well I need the downtime. With a final glance at my phone, confirming no new crises have emerged, I let the movie wash over me, its plot barely registering as my eyes grow heavier by the minute.
Eventually, surrendering to exhaustion, I shut everything down and head to bed. As a mechanic and race car driver, the smell of grease, the adrenaline from working on cars, and the thoughts of being behind the steering wheel on race day makes it hard to unwind, but sleep takes me just as I’m replaying the best race finishes in my mind.
The blaring of my alarm comes way too soon. I fumble around to silence it, the blurry numbers on the clock 5:45 AM. I bolt upright. "Crap," I mumble to myself. I feel like I just went to sleep. These late nights and early mornings are going to start catching up to me and it’s going to kill me before I’m forty-five. I walk out of my room and get the coffee going. I need it to properly wake up but the shower is calling me bad. I didn’t take a long enough shower last night as I look down at myself and see the grease still under my finger nails. Shit there are still smudges of grease on my palm.
“No wonder you’re single John-Paul, you’re a mess,” I mutter to myself and decide on the shower instead of the coffee. The hot water feels amazing on my skin. Mornings I don’t usually shower because I do it the night before so I don’t know how much time I actually have because I need to be downstairs before seven because we have the school buses to do. I begin to move faster through my shower but stop myself. I need to slow down a bit. I take my time and enjoy the hot water.