Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
FRENCHIE
I stumble down the stairs two at a time, barely catching myself on the railing before bursting through the door of Wicked Wheelz Garage. The scent of oil and metal greets me like an old friend and the familiar chaos of tools and car parts spread out over workbenches feels oddly comforting in my rushed state.
Renee is standing there with her iPad and a man is talking to her. She doesn’t seem happy.
“Oh, there he is now. Here is our owner.” The man turns to me, and I nod.
“I’m the owner, John-Paul Norman.” I hold out my hand to shake it. He returns the gesture. “And you are?” I wish Renee had informed me that someone was waiting for me. “What can I do for you?”
“My name is Richard Nelson. I have a fleet of limousines and need a mechanic to work on them. I’m talking to all the garages in the area to see about prices, how the garage is set up, and all that jazz.” He smiles.
“Are you new to this area?” I ask as I stand behind the counter, which we dubbed Renee’s office. I look around the desk for a pen and paper, and when I glance up at her, she raises her eyebrow at me. I smirk at her.
“I am from the area but moved away for a while. I came back when my son started college close by.”
“Oh, the colleges are great around here. I graduated a few years ago.” Renee speaks up and comes to stand beside me. “I’ll be able to help you with anything you need because I run the shop.” I chuckle.
“She is telling the truth. I’m better with my hands than I am with numbers. Renee runs the contracts, pricing, and deals with the people.” As I do with most people, I let this guy know I have nothing to do with customers other than talking about what I’m doing and what we did. “If there are any price changes, we let you know once the work is started so you are always in the know. If you have questions, then we will answer them.”
“Thank you.” He shakes my hand again. The bell above the door rings, and I see my mom walking in.
“Hi, Mom. Come on back to my office.” I smile at Renee as she waves to my mom. “How are you?”
“I’m good. I’m going to the store and wanted to know if you needed anything.”
“Do you have my phone or apartment bugged?” She laughs as we walk into the bay, where we work on the cars, and head to the break room. The guys are all drinking coffee and putting their lunch bags in the refrigerator. They all greet her before heading out as the buses start arriving.
“I do not know, but I also know my son. When was the last time you went shopping?”
“Last time you did.” I chuckle as I grab another coffee. “I’m sorry. There’s so much work and not enough sleep.” I take a big gulp. “Working eighteen hours with four hours of sleep.”
“You need a break.”
“I know, and I’m hoping things will calm down soon. I want to expand the bay, so I need the money to buy more property. I have my eye on some land.”
“Okay, baby.” She leans in and kisses my cheek. “Do you have a list, or should I restock in general?”
“A restock is fine,” I tell her. I walk her out.
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, and it’s a spam call, but it brings me back to my text messages. I let out a breath.
ME:
What is this meeting about tonight?
I send a text message to Liam.
LIAM:
We’ll talk tonight.
ME:
Why can’t you tell me now?
LIAM:
I’m working; shouldn’t you be doing the same thing?
Ugh, this man is frustrating me. I put my phone into my back pocket and get to work.
My cell phone alarm goes off letting me know it’s time for to finish for the day. I’m usually the last one in the garage but tonight I have plans. As I finish up, I remind Renee it’s poker night. She tells me the guys won’t stay much longer because everyone has a lot of overtime and could use an early night off.
I grab a shower and head to Liam’s house on my motorcycle.
I knock on the door now that Kaylee is living there; I don’t walk right in anymore after catching them having sex on the couch. Peyton answers the door.
“Uncle Frenchie!” I high-five him, and I walk in. The guys are all chatting around the poker table, and Kaylee is in the kitchen prepping snacks. I greet her before heading into the game room off the living room.
“There he is!” Liam is already there, arms crossed, a slight smirk playing on his lips as I stand before him. "Nice of you to join us, Frenchie," he teases while handing me a nice cold beer.
"Thanks." I take a swig of the beer. "So what's the big emergency?"
Liam's expression turns serious as he motions for us to sit at the table. Crash, Roll Tide, and T-Bucket all sit down with us. I glance around the table and notice all the expressions ranging from concern to curiosity. I’m glad I’m not the only one curious about this.
“I know you are all wondering why I sent those messages last night and have been hush-hush about it.” Liam addresses each of us with no expression at all on his face.
“Oh, you mean the ‘we need to talk” text messages?’ Roll Tide snaps.
Liam laughs.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one pissed about the delivery of his tone. Why do it in private and not in the group chat? Just to fuck with us?”
Liam laughs even harder.
“I told him not to do it, but he wouldn’t listen,” Kaylee adds as she puts some food on the table. “Peyton and I are headed to the movies.” She kisses him before walking out. Peyton yells goodbye out to us, and we yell back.
“Now, tell us,” Crash demands just before he shoves part of the sub into his mouth. I grab one too. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.
“An opportunity came to me yesterday, and I needed you all here.”
“It’s a race.” I don’t ask a question because I know it's true from the glee in his eyes. He nods, and the rest of us groan. “I have only one question for you. How does Kaylee and Peyton feel about this?” They suffered more than anyone in the last race we ran together. Peyton is seeing a therapist for his PTSD, and I know he’s getting better with the nightmares. We’ve all done sessions with him since we’re all family.
“They’re good with it. Kaylee is going to do her thing with Femme Fatale Security.”
"And Peyton?" I press, needing reassurance about the little guy.
Liam grins, his confidence infectious. "He's excited and believes it's like being in a real-life action movie. Plus, he'll be with Kaylee."
I nod, still processing the news. Racing was in our blood, a thrilling but dangerous pastime that brought us as much pain as adrenaline. The stakes were always high, the risk palpable.
"So what's the deal with this race? Is it local? Or are we talking cross-country madness again?" I ask, trying to gauge how deep we are about to dive back into the chaos of our younger days.
Liam grins, the kind of grin that always meant trouble. "It's big, Frenchie. Bigger than anything we've done before. It's not just about the race; it’s about redemption, proving we still got it."
Roll Tide snorts. "We never lost it, man. Just makes more sense now."
Laughter ripples around the table, lightening the mood momentarily. I chew on the snacks, thinking about everything on my plate—literally and figuratively. The garage, the expansion plans, and now this race. “It's a lot to juggle, but if anyone can handle it, it's us," I finally say, the decision settling in my gut.
T-Bucket slaps the table, his eyes shining with excitement. "That’s what I'm talking about! Let’s show them this old crew can still and will pull off!"
Crash nods in agreement, his usual calm demeanor replaced with an eager intensity. "We need to start prepping right away. Timing, routes, every detail—we can't leave anything to chance."
"We also need to think about the garage," I interject, bringing everyone back to one of our core concerns. "I can’t drop everything there. We’re on the brink of expansion, and that can’t go on hold."
Liam’s face softens with understanding. "We’ll work around your schedule, Frenchie. This race won’t mean anything if it costs us our plans."
Everyone agrees, and the conversation shifts as we strategize, mixing business with the upcoming thrill. The room fills with the familiar buzz of scheming and laughter, a reminder of why we’ve stuck together through thick and thin.
“Okay, now let’s play some poker, boys. I need to take all your money.” Liam laughs at us.
Chips clinking and cards shuffled filled the room as we settled in for a poker game. The tension from the earlier conversation eased as familiar banter took over.
"I hope you've been saving up, Frenchie," Crash teases, dealing the cards with a deft hand. "Because tonight, I'm cleaning you out."
"Keep dreaming," I shoot back, subtly picking up my cards and inspecting them.
The game progresses with playful jibes and strategic plays. Roll Tide was on a surprising winning streak, raking in chips with his smug grin that made it impossible not to plan his downfall in the next round.
As the night wears on, our conversation inevitably circles back to the race. "We need to consider every variable," T-Bucket insisted, folding his less-than-stellar hand. "Last time was too close for comfort."
"You're right," I agree, throwing in my cards. "We'll need to run some serious pre-race simulations. And I'm not just talking about the cars—we must be mentally prepared, too."
Crash nodded with sharp focus. "We'll start tomorrow. No delays."
"I'll coordinate with the trainers and get our schedules synced," Liam adds, scribbling something on a notepad he always keeps handy for such moments.
The excitement for a potential upcoming race was in the air. We were a stronger team, and each member was vital to the group's success and well-being.
It’s getting late, and I know tomorrow will be busy. I stand, stretching my legs, which have become slightly numb from sitting too long. The room is still buzzing with energy, but I can feel the weight of the early morning creeping up on us.
"All right, fellas, I think it's time I head out," I announce, stifling a yawn. The agreement is unanimous, everyone feeling the pull of their beds after a night filled with more than just cards.
As I gather my jacket and keys, Liam pulls me aside with a look of concern, his eyebrows furrowed. "You okay with all this, Frenchie? With the race and garage?" he asks.
"Yeah, man, totally," I answer, clapping him on the shoulder. "Just gotta keep everything balanced, you know? But we'll make it work."
Liam nods, his smile returning. "I know we will. And hey, if you need anything—extra hands at the garage or just a break—you let us know."
I appreciate Liam and all the guys. It just reminds me how lucky I am to have friends like this. "Will do, buddy," I say with a grin. "Same goes for you all."
I say my goodbyes and head out to my bike, the cool air hitting my face as I fire up the engine.
The ride back home is quiet, a sharp contrast to the laughter and noise of a few minutes ago. The streets are almost empty, the occasional streetlight casting long shadows on the asphalt. I let the fantastic night breeze wash over me, calming the whirlwind of thoughts about the race, the garage, and everything in between.
As I pull into my driveway, I kill the engine, and that’s when I hear something. “Is that a cat?” I swear that’s the sound I hear, and then I listen to it again—a baby crying.
So confused, I swing off the bike and head towards the sound. It's coming from the doorstep. There, wrapped in a thin, pink blanket and tucked inside a car seat, is a baby. My mind races, deciphering how and why a baby would end up on my doorstep at this hour.
I carefully pick up the car seat and bring it inside. The baby’s cries soften as I move, maybe comforted by the motion or my bewildered muttering. Once inside, I sit on the couch and look at this tiny, unexpected visitor. She must be barely a few weeks old.
The note tucked into the edge of the blanket catches my eye next. It’s hastily scribbled but readable:
Dear John-Paul,
I’m sorry to tell you that you are a dad this way, but this is your daughter, Avalynn. She is three months old. I am not cut out to be a mom and can't do this. Please take good care of her. I’ve left all the necessary documents with her. I’m sorry to both of you.
— Angel
My heart thumps against my chest as I re-read the note, each word sinking in slowly and heavily. Angel, my once fleeting romance, is forever a part of my life through Avalynn. A mix of emotions whirls inside me—surprise, fear, and an unexpected surge of protectiveness. Then I hear a car start up, and as I turn, all I see are brake lights from a familiar vehicle.
At least she didn’t just leave her here and pray she would be safe, but what the fuck do I know about babies? I look down at Avalynn, her tiny face scrunched up in what I can only assume is discomfort or hunger. Panic begins to set in as the reality of the situation dawns on me.
Then, through all the chaos of my thoughts, she stops crying and looks straight at me with big, curious eyes that seem far too wise for her age. It’s as if she’s sizing me up, figuring out if I’ll make it as her dad. “Okay, Avalynn, let’s get you inside. I need to call a few people.”