Chapter Eight
M y thoughts are jumbled as I walk up to the shop. My mind is still replaying Gunner meeting my brother and mom. He saw just how little we have.
I have to give him credit though, he didn’t look at me any differently to my face. I know he had to have had some thoughts.
Then there was the way my mom acted. She said she was fine, but I know she is not okay with me on his bike. It’s the only reason when I came out and found him and Lee loading my car, I let it happen. If it eases her worry, I can suck up my pride.
Lee looked happy to have a guy to hang out with too. I wish I could bring him around more. I think he would like the guys at work. Maybe then he wouldn’t be such a shut-in.
Still, as I stand here, I can’t help, but feel embarrassed.
Hopefully Gunner won’t treat me any differently.
Sighing, I walk inside. Keeping my head down, I walk straight to my bench, spotting my work for the day. After I glance at it, I chance a look around the shop and spot my car parked in Gunner’s station. Gunner has his head down as he looks at something on his bench.
My feet start moving toward him before I can really think about if I want to approach him or not.
“Morning.”
“Mornin’,” he mumbles without looking up from his table.
“You have my car in your bay.”
“I do.”
“I appreciate you coming by and grabbing it last night and bringing it here, but I don’t expect you to work on it. I can do it myself between cars,” I tell him.
Gunner sighs before looking over at me. “Do you not trust me to work on your car?”
“Of course I do.” The words are out of my mouth before I can consider them.
They are the truth, though. He might be a total dickhead, but he is an amazing mechanic. He is usually the one to work on the expensive cars. My second week here, he was finishing a 1969 Chevy SS rebuild. Fox told me the thing was practically a lost cause before he took on the job. Took him a year and a half, but he finally got it looking brand new again.
So trust isn’t the issue. Pride is.
“Then don’t worry about it, I got it.” He doesn’t even look over at me.
“But I know you have other things to work on,” I point out unhelpfully.
Gunner grunts. “Do you always ask so many questions?” I open my mouth to sass him back, but he shakes his head. “Don’t answer that. We both know you do.” He slides a piece of paper my way. “I need you to start on this right away.”
I take the paper and scan the work order. It’s a more complicated job than I’ve had so far since I’ve worked here.
I already looked at my job list, but this wasn’t on it.
“Are you sure?”
“Do you not want to do it? Do you want to go back to only doing oil changes?”
“Of course not.” I shake my head so fast my hair whips me in the eye, making me hiss.
“You good?”
“Yep.”
“Then go get to work and leave me to fuck around on your car. Give your shit jobs to Prospect One.”
I bite my lip as I watch him walk toward my car. Part of me wants to thank him, but that’s not our thing. We more reluctantly nod when we are grateful.
Mom would rip my ass if she knew that my manners go out the window where he’s concerned.
“I don’t hear you working, Sloane,” he calls over his shoulder.
Dick.
Work order in hand, I head outside and get the car. Carefully, I drive the car that makes an awful noise into my bay and shut it off.
“That thing sounds like shit,” Jagger says as he walks into the shop.
“Good morning to you too,” I chirp as I pop the hood.
Jagger grunts and sets a coffee on my bench. “Grabbed this for you.”
My cheeks heat as they always do when Jagger brings me coffee. At first, I thought he did it to be nice, but now he does it every day. It feels weird, but I always accept it.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says as he walks off toward his table.
As I gather up everything I need, my eyes keep going back toward Gunner. He has his head under the hood with the engine crane next to him. I bite my tongue to stop asking him if he wants my help when I know he doesn’t.
Still, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to work on my car together.
Shaking my head, I grunt. That’s ridiculous. We would fight over the best way to do something or push the other one out of the way.
Taking a deep breath, I get to work on the car in front of me. The car is a bitch and a half. Its bolts rusted and are refusing to budge. For a split second, I contemplate asking for help but I bite my tongue.
I’m a strong, capable, independent woman who doesn’t need a man.
I keep working, slowly making progress, until I’ve finished. When I come up for air, I realize that it’s closing time and my back is locked up from bending over the hood all day. My stomach rumbles, making me cringe.
That bag of chips someone dropped on my bench today definitely didn’t cut it.
The thought of going home and having to figure out what to make with our meager groceries makes me want to cry.
God, why am I so emotional today?
“Hey, you done?” Gunner asks.
Turning my head, I watch as he approaches.
“Yeah, I just got to write up the work order for Smoke and drop it on the desk.”
Gunner follows me over to my bench and waits for me to do what I need to.
“How bad is it?” I ask, referring to my car.
“It’s obvious you tried your best to take care of it.”
“Just answer the question,” I tell him as I push my way into the office.
“It’s pretty rough. I ordered some parts that should be in later this week.”
Sighing, I drop the work order on top of another and turn to face him. “I really wish you would have asked before you did that.”
Gunner frowns. “Why?”
“Because I can’t really afford to have my engine rebuilt right now.”
A look crosses Gunner’s face that I can’t quite name at my confession.
“Don’t worry about it. We can figure it out later,” he says gruffly.
“Gunner…”
“Drop it. Now let’s head out.” He doesn’t even wait for my response before walking out of the office and back into the shop.
I roll my eyes and follow. It’s not like we were in the middle of talking or anything.
Together, we make sure each of the bay doors are closed and locked for the night before heading to the side door.
Sucking up my pride, I finally speak the words that have been hovering on my tongue all day. “Thank you.”
He nods at me, holding the door open for me.
I wait for him to lock it before heading over to his bike. He hands me a helmet and swings his leg over the seat and sits down. He doesn’t hold out a hand to help me on behind him.
“Ready?”
“Let’s do this,” I tell him as I squeeze the sides of his cut into my fists.
As he takes off, I relax behind him. I really like riding on the back of his bike. I would never admit it aloud, though. No one can know that being on the back of his bike has awoken a part of me I didn’t know existed.
Instead, I hold on tight, hoping the parts to my car take their sweet ass time coming in so I don’t lose this feeling anytime soon.
Grunting, I move the product into the floorboard of the van inside the abandoned warehouse. I turn around and almost run into Fang, one of the guys from the Lotus MC out of San Antonio.
“Shit, sorry,” I mutter as I step to the side.
“All good,” he says as he moves past to put another package into our van.
This is only the second time we’ve met these guys, but so far they seem decent. Or decent enough for them being another club.
I can’t help but stop and admire the other dude’s artwork. Fang’s got three small tattoos on his face by his right eyebrow, his neck is covered, and it trails under his shirt, then the backs of his hands and fingers are covered as well.
He catches me looking and raises a brow.
I shake my head. “Sorry, but whoever did your work did a killer job.”
Fang smirks. “One of my old brothers from Vegas, Midnight, owns a shop. He did them for me.”
“You’re from Vegas?” I say as I grab another package.
“Yeah, I recently transferred. I needed a change of scenery.”
“No need to explain it to me, man. I get it.”
He drops the last box into the van and covers them up with the floorboard. “There you go. Now it’s your problem.”
I chuckle. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.” Fang lingers, rubbing his chin. “Look, it’s probably nothing, but if I were you, I’d want to know.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, but I heard some assholes recently talking about your club, specifically your shop. They mentioned you have a girl workin for you,” he says, making me tense. “Cool as shit though that you hired a female mechanic. Anyway, they were talking about what they would do if they got their hands on her, so you might want to keep an extra eye on her. Maybe lock her down if that’s an option, you know what I mean?”
“I do. Thanks, man, I appreciate it.”
“Of course. I figured if I were you, I’d want to know, sorry if I overstepped.”
“Nah, you’re good.”
Fang gives me a head nod, and I watch as he walks back toward the kid who came with them named Loyal, who’s been on the lookout.
Turning back to the van, I head for the driver’s side and get in. While I wait for Smoke, I run a hand over my face.
Shit.
I knew her working for us was going to come back and bite us in the ass. If only she would have stayed out of sight, then they would have never known about her.
Movement in the side mirror catches my attention, and I watch as Smoke walks away from Savage, the other MC’s president, and heads my way.
Smoke gets in, and I start up the van. “Ready?”
“Let’s roll,” he says.
I drive out, and a couple of our guys fall into line behind us while Mac and Tank speed ahead of us. Through the rearview mirror, I see the Lotus guys peeling out, heading back toward home.
“What’s wrong?” Smoke asks after a few minutes of silence.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“You’re strangling the steering wheel for one, and two, you keep grinding your teeth,” he points out, making me sigh.
“Fang gave me some information.”
Smoke turns his body toward me, ready to pounce. “What did he say?”
“He told me some people are talking about Sloane. He said we should lock that down before anything happens.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to her. She’s just an employee.”
“You and I both know she’s more than that,” I say, shaking my head. “I give the girl a ride home every day after work. She’s probably been seen on the back of my bike.”
He nods. “So while you were trying to be a nice guy, you put a target on her back.”
I stare at the glowing taillights of the bikes ahead of us and nod.
“I’m not going to fire her,” he says after a minute of silence.
“That hadn’t crossed my mind, actually.”
“What were you thinking?”
“We have that rally coming up. What if we take her? She could hang out with Kelly.”
“Who exactly would she go with?”
“Me,” I say quietly.
Smoke sucks in a breath and shakes his head. “You realize that would be painting a bigger target on her back, right? Shit, are you two together and you just haven’t told me?”
“No, it’s not like that between us. All I’m trying to do is keep her annoying ass safe.”
“There’s other ways, Pierce,” Smoke says, using my real name.
“Really? Because as far as I can tell, there aren’t. If you got ideas, I’ll hear you out, but I’ve thought about this and I don’t see any other way. They need to know she’s ours.”
“Yours. You mean they need to know she’s yours.”
“That’s the same thing.”
Smoke scoffs. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you and I both know it’s not.”
“Look, can I bring her or not?”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, brother.”
“I do.”
“Then yes, you can bring her. I’m sure Kelly will enjoy knowing someone else there besides us and the guys.”
I keep quiet as I think about it now that I have his blessing to bring her.
How the fuck am I going to convince her to go? Knowing her, she’s going to put up a fight.
The only sound in the cab of the van the rest of the drive is the tires rolling on pavement, both of us lost in our own thoughts. When I pull through the gates of the compound, Smoke turns toward me.
“Just do me one favor.”
“What’s up?”
“Just be careful. For both your sakes. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt.”
Gritting my teeth, I shake my head. “I’ve told you, it’s not like that between us.”
Smoke holds up his hands in surrender. “You say that, but you’ve never done anything like this. She’s gotten under your skin, and we both know it. So either walk away before she realizes it or fucking hold on for dear life, and I promise you, brother, if you jump now, you won’t regret it.”
Before I can even say anything, Smoke jumps out of the van, slamming the door shut behind him.
Well, shit. I guess what they say about best friends is true, they know you better than you know yourself.