Chapter 16 #2
Blowing out a breath, I carefully fold the paper and pocket it before I stomp down the stairs and head out of the office to see the workers waiting for me. Some have pipes in their hands; others have wrenches or rags. None look happy.
“We don’t want to do this,” one says, an older guy. Most gang members start or end up here. They all owe Auto and their employers. Breaking the code is a punishable offence. They have to do this, no matter how much they don’t want to.
“Don’t worry, I won’t kill any of you. It will just hurt a lot,” I promise as I slide my leather jacket off and drape it across the bench next to the door.
Auto gave it to me, and I don’t want it to get ruined.
Cracking my neck, I step forward and wait.
A few of them hesitate, but they have a job to do, and so do I.
Sharing looks, two men lunge at me. I duck under the first and bring my knee up into the second’s groin, grabbing his head and throwing him at his friend.
There is no such thing as a clean fight when it’s for your life.
They stumble into the door, and I kick again so they smash through it, and then I turn to find another running at me.
I sprint his way and drop to my knees at the last second, sliding through the oil patch until I can spin and come up behind him. I wrap my arm around his throat and yank him back, clenching until he’s out cold. Dropping him into the oil, I narrow my eyes when a dirty cloth smacks into my face.
“Rude,” I snap, pointing at the one who did it.
Grabbing the rag, I leap at him as he scrambles back.
He slips and falls, and I ride him down, pressing the material into his mouth as he kicks and screams, choking on it, but it’s too slow, so I grab his head and slam it into the concrete floor twice until he stops moving.
Before climbing off him, I turn his head so he doesn’t choke and die, and then I turn to see the others heading my way.
I know the garage like the back of my hand, so as I duck under their wild punches, I lead them where I need them to be.
Grabbing one by the back of his mangy brown hair, I shove his face into an oil barrel and hold it there as he flails.
I kick out at another that gets too close, holding the first man until he stops moving, then I let go and turn to the others.
Glancing at Auto, I find him cracking open another beer as he watches the game, not even looking at us, and that makes me grin as I kick the worker running at me.
He flies back and hits the closest car, and I leap at him, slamming the open hood down on his hand.
His face contorts as he shouts as something hard hits my back, making me grunt and stumble.
Turning, I grab the wrench heading for me again and yank him forward before smashing my head into his.
The guy goes down hard, and when I turn back, the man with his hand still trapped in the car is pulling out a knife.
Rolling my eyes, I lift the hood, and he slips deeper into the car as he stares at his ruined hand.
I bring the hood down again. This time, it hits his head.
I make it hard, but not hard enough to kill, and he slumps to the floor, his fingers mangled and pointed in different directions.
A whistle cuts through the air, and I turn in time to dodge a rag being tossed at my face. Hoisting the stolen wrench up, I toss it. It spins through the air and slams into the man’s face, knocking him out.
Someone grabs me from behind, and I’m tossed over the roof of a car, hitting the ground hard.
My side starts to ache, but I ignore it as he leaps over the top.
Turning onto my back, I use both feet to kick him in the balls, then I open the passenger door, climb through the middle, and hop out of the driver’s side.
When he follows, I slam the door in his face.
His scream fills the car as he drops back, and I kneel and crawl under it as I feel the others converging on me.
After dragging my ass out from underneath it, I pop up on the other side to see them stalking around the vehicle.
Walking backwards, I eye them. There are four of them—two big fuckers and two younger dudes, but they are all mean looking.
Every street kid has this certain look to them, so it’s one I know well and understand.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I tell them.
“I want to hurt you, girl,” one of the bigger ones calls. “Karma under my boot? I’ll be a god.”
“You’re a dumbass, but I suppose Auto doesn’t hire based on intelligence.” I sigh. “Come on then, big boy.”
With a shout, he lunges at me, but I meet him halfway, flinging myself up into the air.
I wrap my legs around his throat and swing up and around, driving my elbow into his head and riding him to the floor until he’s out cold.
I roll from his body and block the swing of a pipe with my arm.
It instantly goes dead, but I ignore that for now.
I’ve fought with much worse. I once had to slide my leg bone back into the skin so I could win a fight.
I’ll do whatever it takes, just like they will.
Grabbing the discarded pipe, I swing up and around. I keep swinging as I stand until the man is down, and then I turn to the last two. Flipping the pipe in the air, I wave it at them, not even panting. “Don’t suppose you want a two-for-one special? I’m getting hungry.”
“Fuck you! You broke the rules!”
“Yeah, yeah . . .” I spin and kick the pipe midair, and it smacks into his face. Down he goes. “I know the drill. Alright, as the last one standing, you win a prize. You get to pick how I knock you out. Think carefully or I’ll choose for you.”
The man looks confused, glancing between me and his downed friends before he drops the pipe.
“Boring.” I sigh. “Alright, I’ll pick.” I walk over to him, even as he backpedals.
Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, I rip it up, exposing his muscles as I wrap it around his neck and tighten it.
He coughs and chokes, struggling against me, but it’s useless, and when he drops, I wipe off my hands and look around.
Some of them are waking up, and I really am hungry, so I head over to Auto, who’s on his third beer.
I down mine then wipe my mouth as I pull my jacket on.
Leaning in, I kiss his wrinkled cheek. “Thanks, old man,” I murmur before I head out, my heart heavy and stomach empty.