Chapter 2
SLADE
I toss a banana peel in the trash and push the eggs around the skillet. The door to the garage opens, letting in the brisk morning air.
“How was your night?”
“Eh.” Krissy tosses her keys on the table and sets her lunch bag beside the sink.
“Guy came in complaining of abdominal pain. Turns out he hadn’t crapped in two weeks.
I had to give him an enema.” She kicks her shoes off and yawns.
“He shit a brick. Literally. Let that be a lesson to you if you don’t poop after a few days. ”
“Kris, that’s gross.” I turn the burner off and scoop eggs into two bowls, handing her one.
My younger sister laughs, her dark hair spilling from her short ponytail. She takes her bowl to the small table.
“Did you hear anything about the day shift?” I reach into the fridge for the hot sauce and slide it to her.
Krissy works the night shift in the ER. With the stories she’s told me about gunshot wounds, gang fights, and prisoners, I’m ready for her to help people during daylight hours, but also in a different unit of the hospital.
She shoves a forkful of eggs in her mouth. “Not yet, but a lot of other nurses applied for it,” she says while chewing. “Somebody said a shift opened in Labor and Delivery. I’m going to talk to the manager. My experience at the clinic might help. ”
Krissy has volunteered at the women’s clinic since she started the nursing program. It’s important to her, and she’s helping women who often wouldn’t have access to care otherwise, but I worry about her safety.
I shovel the last bits from my bowl into my mouth and place it in the dishwasher. “I’ve gotta get to the shop. A tow truck has a drop-off. I’m going to the gym with Carson when I get off, so I’ll be late.”
She nods, holding her bowl under her chin. “I have a date tonight, so you two will have to fend for yourselves for dinner.”
We take turns cooking, and it’s her night.
I rest against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “With whom?”
She takes another bite. “One of the docs. He’s asked me out a couple of times. I thought I’d give him a shot.”
I groan. My sister may be twenty-four, but her taste in men sucks. I haven’t liked a single one. They’re either doctors or finance managers and look like complete douchebags.
“How old is he?”
Her head falls to the side, looking at me from under her long, dark lashes. “Calm down, Stone Cold. It’s a date. If he asks me to marry him, I’ll get you a copy of his birth certificate.”
“Does he have kids?”
“Oh, for real.” She stands, moving to the sink to rinse her bowl.
It’s a legitimate question. Turns out the last one was married. “Do you know anything about this guy?”
She matches my stance. “No. That’s why it’s a date. I guess I’ll find out tonight.” She smiles and spins, heading out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “And don’t wait up,” she hollers as I hear her bedroom door close.
I run a hand over my face. “Don’t wait up, my ass.” I’ve been waiting up every night of my life with her boy troubles and girly drama. That shit was endless through high school.
I hear her door open. “Oh, and ask Trig if the apartment in his building is still open. I want to go look at it.” The door closes again .
I grab my keys, knowing it’ll be another sleepless night.
______
The car exits, and I push the button to lower the door as the impact wrench grinds.
“Shit!” Trig hollers.
“If you stripped another nut, it’s coming out of your paycheck.”
He flips me off over his shoulder and tightens the remaining bolts before rolling the next tire over.
Wind returns from the break room, toting his lunch box, and stops beside me. The man got the nickname from his uncontrollable flatulence and ability to drop bombs that would clear out an entire stadium.
His weight shifts from one foot to the other. “What crawled up your ass today? If this place is going under or something, you should just tell us.”
I look at him. “Going under? Are you blind? The lot is full, and so is the calendar.” Every appointment slot is filled and then some.
He shrugs, unmoving as if I have more to say.
It’s been a year since I financed the three-stall garage, which I took over from Cal, who opened it forty years ago. Over the ten years I’ve worked here, I’ve only ever seen a handful of slow weeks. Now is definitely not one of them.
This place is my second home, and Cal is the dad I never had. When I needed it most, he gave me a job and, over time, showed me how to run his business. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it afloat. Currently, the only issues I’m facing are a lack of space in the parking lot and manpower to keep up.
There used to be five of us and Cal, but six months ago, my best friend and Cal’s granddaughter, Alex, moved to be with her husband, the starting quarterback for the Colorado Big Horns.
They have twin girls and are raising Mark’s younger sister.
Alex owns a small auto restoration business.
Occasionally, I fly out to help her pull an engine and rebuild it.
She’s the most gifted mechanic I’ve ever seen. Hiring someone to take her place would be impossible, but if the workload remains, I’ll have to try.
“Is Krissy still talking about moving out?” Wind’s question is soft, and Trig’s motion stills. Carson remains bent over a hood, pretending to inspect a radiator cap.
I glare at him. “What do you know about Krissy moving out?”
His eyes flick to the Nosey Nellies across the room, then he clears his throat. “I just . . . I . . .”
I set the part requisitions on the bench, turning to him. “Spill it, Wind.”
“She was talking about it during the game the other night, and she messaged Trig a bit ago, asking about the open apartment again.”
My eyes roll to the top of my head.
“She knew you wouldn’t ask.” He shifts his lunchbox to the other hand. “You know, Millie and I are only a few blocks away, and Trig would be upstairs. It’s a safe neighborhood.”
Wind and his high school sweetheart reconnected at a reunion last year, and ever since, the man has been all sunshine and happy endings. He’s now immune to real life and the shit that comes with it.
“I’ve talked to her about it. I’m not discussing it with you. Any of you.”
“Fine.” He turns for the door. “But she’s a grown woman, Slade. She’s made up her mind, and I don’t think you’re gonna stop her. It’d be best to know she’s safe and has friends close,” he hollers over his shoulder.
The heavy metal door bangs as he exits. Trig’s eyes meet mine for a moment before he returns to work.
These guys look out for her, and each knows better than to ever think about crossing a line, but I don’t want her living in the same apartment building .
I grab the stack of orders, double-checking part numbers and quantity.
Trig zips the last tire on and returns the car to the lot. He hangs the keys on the board and fetches his own, stopping to hand over the clipboard with the worksheet attached. “She’s all done. Do you want me to enter this?”
I take the clipboard. “Nah, I’ll input it when I’m done here.”
He nods. “I gave Krissy the landlord’s number. She’s been asking for days. I can’t just ignore her.”
Even though I know he’s right, I won’t be saying it.
I like Trig. He’s a good kid, but we call him Trigger for a reason. The wannabe racer has a need for speed and hangs with a rough crowd. One that Krissy doesn’t need to get mixed up in.
“I’ll talk to her about it.” That’s all I’m offering because Krissy and I will discuss it. Again.
He nods once. “Sure. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
Carson drops the hood of an SUV. “You know she can make this decision without you.” His voice comes over my shoulder. “She’s trying to include you. The more you ignore her, the more you’ll piss her off. She could end up in a place a lot worse.”
“I don’t need this from you, too.” I remain focused, ready to call it a day.
“She’s a grown woman, Slade. At some point, you’re going to have to let her go. You can’t protect her from everything.”
Like hell I can’t. I turn toward him as he wipes his hands on a shop rag.
“She doesn’t need to be living downstairs from Trig or his biker friends.”
His chin drops, unable to disagree. “Then maybe you should help her find a place. She wants your approval.”
I stare at him, needing him to drop it and wondering when in the hell he became so insightful. “Yeah, well. I might not have to. She’s got a date. I wouldn’t put it past her to run off and get married just to piss me off. ”
“With whom?” Carson’s hands move to his hips.
I bite back a shit-eating grin. Carson and I have been friends since Cal hired him years ago when he strolled in looking for a job. With Alex gone, he’s my closest friend. I’d trust him with my life, and I know without a doubt he’d look out for Krissy.
“A doctor.”
“Shit.” It comes out as a mumble, but I heard it.
I cross my arms over my chest. “My sentiments exactly, but I have to think one of them won’t be a complete dick and . . .” I shake my head. “If she ends up with a highly educated, successful, not-piece-of-shit, I’d be ok with that. It’s what I want for her. I want her to have all of that and more.”
I spin back to the computer. “I don’t want her living in a crappy apartment when she comes in after working all night. Or with dates.”
He makes some sort of grunting noise as I get back to scrolling. “I’m heading to the gym. You coming?”
“Yeah, but I need to input these part orders so we can get some of these vehicles moving. I’ll meet you there.”
He grabs his keys, and the door slams closed.
I flip through the pages, confirming part numbers and reviewing inventory.
The door opens and bangs closed again.
“Welcome back, asshole. What’d you forget?”
Click, click, click, click.
I lift my gaze from the computer. A woman stands with her hand wrapped around the straps of a large leather purse. Her long, dark hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, and she is wearing a white, silky-looking button-down shirt tucked into a black, knee-length, fitted skirt and heels.