Chapter 38 #2
I grip the gear shift and go to put it in reverse, but Ezra covers my hand with his. Confusion washes over me, and I snap my head towards him. I haven’t even moved the gear shift yet.
“Ezra, I’m not that bad of a—”
“Be quiet.” He shushes me gently and narrows his eyes, like he's trying to focus. “Why does your car sound like that?” I listen intently, and I do notice a weird knocking sound coming from the front of the car. “When’s the last time you got an oil change?”
I shrug.
“It's been a while, but I'm pretty sure if it didn't have oil in it, then it would be making a much louder noise.”
“True,” he admits through small chuckles.
“Can you look at it?”
He makes a ‘psh’ noise, like it’s crazy of me to ask him.
“I wish I knew half of what that shit is,” he says, obviously a little embarrassed despite his continued laughter. “Where do you normally take it?”
“Damien's been doing all of the maintenance on it…” I admit softly, and then I start to scroll through the digital readings on the dash. It says the oil level is normal, and that it has about thirty percent of its life left. So, I don’t automatically think it’s that.
“Oh,” he says sadly. “Well, Grease has that garage. Why don't you see if we can drop it off before your appointment? Maybe he can look at it today.”
Grease did say to call him if I needed anything, and I don’t want to bother Zeke or Alex with anything else.
They’ve done so much for us already. The least I can do is get someone else to look at my car.
I feel a little awkward calling him for this, but I also don't want to take it to some random shop. It’ll be fine.
If anything, maybe I can pay him nicely.
I pull out my phone and call Grease’s contact. It rings a few times, but when he finally answers, I’m shocked by the concern in his voice.
“What's going on, mama? You good?” Grease asks.
“Yeah, I'm okay. My car is making a weird noise, and I don't know where to take it. Do you have any openings at your garage?”
“Well, that depends. When do you need it?”
“I have an appointment with my OB in about half an hour, and I was hoping I could drop it off? Zeke or one of our guys can pick me up and take me anywhere for the next few days. It would just be easier to drop it off before the appointment in case I end up convincing them to take me to the Attic.”
“Ah, alright. Yeah, that’s fine, mama. Bring it on down. We’ve got a spot it can sit in until we get to it.”
“Okay, awesome. Thanks, Grease. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime.” He hangs up, and then I cut the car off before calling Zeke—just to tell him to meet us there instead of the hospital.
He argues with me for a minute, of course, but once Ezra voices his opinion, he backs down.
Ezra suggests we take the Charger too, that way it gets some time on the road, and he can still make it to his shift at the Attic.
He gets out of the seat and comes around to my side to open the door.
“Come on, Ash. Give me the key fob to this, and you drive D’s car,” he demands softly and holds his hand out.
I’m hesitant. I wanted as much as possible to stay the same for when he came home.
Granted, it needs to be driven so the battery doesn’t completely die, if it hasn’t already.
It just seems like I’m moving forward, like I’m using his things without him and taking advantage of his disappearance.
I know he would want me to use it, but once again, everything just feels wrong.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the Charger? It’s bigger on the inside…” I deter.
“D would never forgive me if he knew I let you drive this thing sounding like that. Come on, hand it over,” he says playfully, but there’s a certain gleam in in his eyes that tells me he knows exactly what I’m feeling.
I swallow harshly and reluctantly hand him the fob before getting out of the Equinox.
Daisy climbs right out as well, not allowing a sliver of space to separate us.
I’ve never driven the Charger. It’s Damien’s.
I’m always his ‘passenger princess’ or whatever Ser calls it.
Hell, we’ve had sex in this car. A few times, actually, and that makes driving it even more intimate.
As I walk up to the driver’s side door, I’m hesitant to touch the handle.
He always opened my doors for me, and I love how he buckled my seatbelt.
It sounds so childish, but it was like he had to know that I was safe—even when I was right beside him and he was in control.
I flinch just a little when the door opens, and Ezra holds his hand out to help me in.
Daisy climbs right in the back seat with no hesitation, like she was always meant to do it.
I smile softly at him and take his hand, but only because the car sits lower than my Equinox, and I have to actually lower myself into it.
My balance isn’t exactly what it was before my belly started growing.
The last thing I need is to dive face-first into the concrete floor.
He shuts the door gently before walking back over to my car, and I turn the Charger over.
It roars to life, just like it always has, and it’s both a soothing and gloomy feeling.
The rumbles snake their way up my legs, and it brings back so many memories.
I find myself really sinking into the seat as I soak it all in.
It smells like him in here. It’s stronger than what I’ve smelled in the past week or so, and at first, it’s overwhelming.
I tear up and adjust the seat, hating how I have to change anything at all.
The smell envelops me, though, and the leather is warm.
It’s bigger than my seat’s, and it lightly hugs me from behind. It feels like Damien.
I need to spend more time in the Charger.
We pull out of the garage, and I follow Ezra to Grease’s shop.
Zeke and Alex’s locations both show they’re almost there already.
So, I try to enjoy the ride. The growl from the engine makes my entire body tingle, just like before, and more kicks and flips tumble about in my belly.
I laugh to myself and rub my belly with my non-dominant hand, thinking that they like the feeling.
“Yeah, baby. We’re in Daddy’s car. I’m sure he’ll take you on all the rides you want when he gets home.
When you’re old enough, he’ll take you on the bike, and…
” I stop myself then, and the gloom is back in an instant.
I shouldn’t promise things I don’t know are going to happen.
We still haven’t found his bike. I’m sure we can get him a new one when he gets home, but…
what if he doesn’t want a new one? He loved that bike, and put a lot into it…
That’s just something else I’ve been missing.
He always looks so strong when he rides.
Not that he doesn’t any other time, but something about seeing him drive something so chaotic was always one of the most enticing sights.
It would always smell different, too. The garage would have this coal-like smell.
The motorcycle’s fumes had this extra hardy punch to it, and I’m dying to smell it again.
I read that I could crave smells, but I never imagined I would crave the scent of gasoline.
Now I feel this impulse to ask Grease to start up his bike, just so I can catch a whiff, but I know that’s completely ridiculous.
It wouldn’t hit the same as Damien’s bike would, anyway.
In what seems like only a few minutes, the MC’s garage and clubhouse come into view.
I put my turn signal on and sit behind Ezra at the red light, feeling more reluctant with every clicking noise.
I’m suddenly extremely selfish, because I don’t want Ezra to drive the Charger back to the Attic.
What if he messes it up? What if the car won’t smell like Damien anymore?
I know I’m being crazy. They’ve all done so much for us in the past month, and obviously, Ezra would never intentionally ruin Damien’s car.
I just…I want to hold onto every piece of him for as long as I can… Maybe he can take Zeke’s car back.
No, that’s too much to ask, and it’s not even my car to offer up.
God, what is happening to me?
The light turns green, and I follow Ezra as we move to turn onto the next road, when Ezra blows the car horn.
It’s loud and sharp, taking me by surprise, and I flinch harshly.
Before I have time to process it, a vehicle hits Ezra and makes him spin around.
The crash is even louder than the horn. Breaking metal and glass collide with it all, and it’s happening so quickly that I’m not sure I even register that it happened.
The momentum makes the Equinox spin, and before I can react, he’s slamming into me—causing even more noise.
Everything goes black for what seems like a second.
It’s just long enough for me to blink, and a loud boom plays out next to me.
I instinctively reach for my ears. The force of it sends my head into the side of the car, shattering the passenger side window, and my skull instantly starts to throb.
A faint drip of something warm starts to run down my face, but it almost tickles, and I cringe lightly at the sensation.
The inside of the car starts to spin, and my ears start to ring, muffling all other noises.
Daisy’s barks break through the fog and keep me conscious.
My heavy head whooshes forward as I try to gather my bearings.
The plastic of the airbag grazes the warm drip, smearing it across my skin, and I cringe again.
Why does it feel so hot? What is that popping feeling in my ear?
“ASHIA!”
Damien? I force my head up even more and look around, but everything is cloudy, and my eyes burn.
“Ashia!”