Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Sway stared out the front window of her family’s auto repair shop. The sound of cold wind beating against the windowpanes made her shiver. Every day, she found herself staring out, watching the streets. Every day, she waited for something or someone to show up wanting to get even for her attacking Jerome Michel. Two weeks had gone by since she beat his sorry ass in front of his friends.
He was a lowlife thug who acted like he was a big deal. He wasn’t any kind of deal from where she was standing. She expected retaliation of some sort from the guy, but the only thing that had come out of that whole little display of anger and hostility was that she now had a stalker. Other than the night of Tesh’s funeral, she hadn’t seen Jerome.
The black Silverado parked half a block down was a dead giveaway that someone was watching her. If they thought they were being stealthy, they were sadly mistaken. Sway knew who was sitting there. If Mister Handsome had wanted to get to know her, he should have said so. She might have given him a shot. After all, he did walk her home that night.
Turning away from the window, she headed toward the back of the shop. On top of the bike builds, they had a few engine overhauls on a couple classic cars that needed finishing. Business had been good, with work rolling in and out of the shop. It was the little jobs that kept them the busiest—tires, oil changes, brake jobs, things that kept their hands busy and the bills paid.
Once word had gotten around that Tesh had passed away, she thought people wouldn’t come back, but that hadn’t been the case. It seemed people were well aware Tesh had been the manager and she had been the wrench. There were two other guys who worked at the shop, but they mainly did the tires, oil changes, brake jobs, and alignments. She did all the overhauls and rebuilds.
Late at night, when the shop was closed and everyone else had called it a day, Sway stayed late working on the builds. She needed to clear a few lifts to make room for other work. The back room was filled with bikes she’d bought at auctions. They all needed some kind of work, which was why they were cheap. She could turn them around easy enough. Maybe if Mister Handsome ever came around, she could discuss working on his and his friends’ bikes.
Keeping her work area closest to the backroom, she managed to stay out of sight of any pedestrians who may look through the windows. Staying out of sight made things easy for her both during work hours and after. During the day, no one hit on her for dates. At night, they just thought the place was closed .
It wasn’t like she dated. She didn’t even put out signals that she took notice of anyone. But there was always that one guy who thought she needed to be taken care of, needed to be protected. Shaking her head at the thought, Sway hit the button on the car lift. She needed to get a few oil changes done before calling it a night.
Stepping under the car, she went to work draining the oil. Movement to her left caught her attention. Taking a step to the right, she picked up a crowbar and waited for the intruder to move into view.
“Sway?”
Hearing her name called out unexpectedly, Sway banged her head on the underside of the car she was working on. “Son of a bitch! Lottie?”
“Yeah, bitch.”
Sway saw her only friend crouch down. The girl was decked out in all-black patent leather. Her long, straight, black hair hung to her waist. The short, V-shaped bangs and her wing-tipped eyeliner made her look like a vampire off some B-rated movie. The smell of patchouli overtook the odour of motor oil and grease, making Sway queasy. “What are you doing here?” she asked, rubbing her head.
“Checking on you.”
“Why?”
“We haven’t talked about . . . well . . .”
“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t have gone after Jerome.” Tossing the wrench on the toolbox, Sway looked at her best friend. “How did you know about that?” She hadn’t told her .
“Dawson was hanging out with a few of the fighters he trains. He told me.” Lottie squinched her nose as she got a whiff of motor oil.
She hadn’t seen him there, but her focus had been on kicking Jerome’s ass. Sway wanted to tell Lottie about running into the jackass the night of the funeral and that Vicious had walked her home, but she chose not to, telling herself she was keeping her friend safe.
“I know you’re upset about Tesh, babe, but your brother wouldn’t want you getting killed over him.”
Sway knew Lottie was right. Tesh had spent his life protecting her from their father when they were children and from their mother after their father died. And as adults, he protected her from all the assholes who’d come in and out of their lives. The problem was, she’d never protected him. She’d always believed, however na?ve, that her big brother was invincible. That no one would ever hurt him, and that no one would dare betray him. Reality was a bitch. “I’m good. It won’t happen again,” she told Lottie.
“Come out with me and Dawson tonight. Cut loose, have some fun.”
“Nah, I have a couple oil changes to finish up. Once I’m done here, I’m heading upstairs.” The last few weeks, her life had been all about work. Before that, it had been a week going to the hospital to stay with Tesh. It had been up to her to keep the business running smoothly until her brother recovered. But Tesh hadn’t recovered. He passed away, and now, she needed to keep it running for herself. Her life had been stuck on rinse and repeat, and she wished the cycle would end soon .
“You can’t work all the time, Sway. You can’t keep running on empty.”
“Lottie, if I don’t keep things running, the shop won’t make it. I’ll have to fire everyone, including myself. And I’m not running on empty. I’m just running on less right now.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine. I need to find my way, is all.”
“I’ll leave you alone for now, but if you need me, I’m a phone call away.”
“Thanks, Lottie.” Sway was thankful when Lottie let it go. When she blew Sway a kiss and headed out the back, Sway felt like a bad friend.
“I’ll lock up,” Lottie said as she disappeared into the shadows of the backroom. Going back to the oil change, Sway kept her mind on task. Thinking about dancing into the early morning hours wouldn’t pay the bills.
Two hours later, she tossed a rag on her workbench. Going to the fridge, she grabbed a beer from inside and twisted the top off. Taking a seat, she filled out the work order before closing out the job. Once the paperwork was done, she tipped back the bottle and drank the cold liquid. Closing her eyes, she embraced the silence. A month back, she’d been sitting in a drab hospital room listening to the sounds of machines beeping and wheezing as she watched old westerns on an antiquated TV. What she wouldn’t give to be up there with her brother still alive .
“You need to deal with it,” she told herself. What she needed was a long, hot bath. A hot bubble bath. Damn if that didn’t sound good. She could almost feel the sudsy bubbles caressing her overworked skin, the smell of cashmere floating through the air. Those images had her saying fuck it. She could take a couple hours for herself. It might do her some good. Closing the place down, Sway made her way through the shop, making sure everything was in its place.
She made sure that all the tools and all liquids had been put away and cleaned up. The last thing she checked was that all the lifts were let down. With the radio silent and the lights turned low, she made her way to the back door. Sway didn’t know where the emotions had come from, but they bubbled up and over. She was so alone now. The feeling of having no one left almost crippled her some nights.
It took her two weeks not to cry herself to sleep, and another week to stop looking for Tesh in the office when she needed something.
Keeping to her usual schedule gave her a sense of normalcy. Made her feel as if she was still connected to her brother in some small way. With everything the way it should be, all she needed to do now was drag her tired ass upstairs. She hated when the day ended. It was the worst part, when things went quiet and there was no one to lean on. No one to discuss the stress that hounded her daily. The pamphlets said there were five stages of grief. She was still in the stage of denial and anger. Some days, she found herself bargaining with God to bring Tesh back. At every corner, something reminded her of her brother. How could it not ?
Depression was ever present in her daily routine. Everything from people telling stories about Tesh, paying bills, to running the shop. Figuring out payroll and taxes. Ordering supplies and invoicing customers. Even the leaky sink in her kitchen that needed fixing reminded her of Tesh.
All of it made her cry and want to throw something at the wall, but all that would do was give her one more reason to miss her brother. Yes, depression was a contender, but denial and anger were still in the race. According to those damn pamphlets, she had to go through every holiday and celebration without her brother before acceptance set in. Evidently, whoever wrote those fucking things had never lost anyone.