Chapter 17 #2
“When I finish this,” he responds, his head hidden under the hood once again.
Oookay. I widen my eyes at Sandy, and she widens them right back. Stella chooses that moment to let out a wail, startling the both of us.
The mechanic’s head lifts in a scowl, and Sandy rushes to get out of the shop.
“Will you be ok?” she mouths.
“Yes. I might be a gang member the next time you see me, though.”
“I wouldn’t mind joining a gang for that guy.”
By the end, we’re more whispering than mouthing, but hopefully the Viking guy can’t hear us. We both chuckle under our breaths. She sends me a kiss and leaves me.
I turn my gaze back to the guy, whose name I still don’t know.
I’m not sure if he’s actually in a gang, but he obviously lacks some basic politeness.
Still, I don’t feel unsafe. As a woman, I developed the gut instinct to keep me alive years ago.
So far, it has been right. And this place, this man, doesn’t make my stomach churn.
It does a lot of things to it, but not in a negative way.
“So lonely, horny and forced to do everything on your own?” he says, not raising his head.
“She’s over-exaggerating,” I respond, though she’s definitely not. Matter of fact, just standing here looking at him is making my pussy wet, the bitch starving.
“I could help you with that.”
“Well, I’m sure hoping you can fix my car.” I let out a nervous chuckle.
“Hmmpft.” Is that a gang word of sorts?
Ten minutes later, he closes the hood. Setting a few of the tools down, he washes his hands and exits the shop.
He doesn’t close the door, so I take that as a sign to follow him.
The outside air is refreshing compared to the heavy smell of gas inside of the garage.
Stumbling after him, I notice him speaking under his breath to another guy with a leather jacket.
The other guy looks scared while the Viking looks annoyed.
“Deal with it,” I hear him bite out vaguely before the other guy scurries away .
Maybe Sandy was right?
“An employee?” I ask him, trying to break the tension.
“You could say so.” He heads to the massive black pick up and starts climbing in.
“Wait! If I’m going to ride with you, I think I should at least know your name. I’m Sadie, by the way.”
“Jaxon,” he grumbles, already starting the car.
I quickly climb in. Other than telling him my address, the ride is silent. His tattooed knuckles grip the steering wheel, and it’s hard to look away. He shoots me a knowing look, so I quickly look away and notice we’re out front of my house.
“This is the car,” I say. Logan’s van is also here. Huh. I guess he’s already back.
“What’s the issue?” Jaxon asks, stepping out.
“Well, I can’t start it.”
“Keys.” I give him the keys, and he gets to work.
Fighting my need to fill the silence, I let him work. He tries starting the car again but doesn’t succeed. He pops open the hood and stares at the insides of my car for a second before ducking down and starting his thing.
I wish to come closer and check out what he does, but his entire demeanor doesn’t really scream ‘I like to be supervised.’
Noticing Logan staring at us from the side of the house, his arms crossed over his chest, I make my way to him.
“Back already?” I ask him.
“Yup, there wasn’t much to do. Something wrong with your car?” He lifts an eyebrow, throwing a distrustful look toward Jaxon.
“Couldn’t start. I was lucky enough to find a mechanic so soon.”
“I could have checked it out,” he bites out, clenching his jaw.
“Sorry,” I say, almost questioning. “I wasn’t aware you’d know that. Nor were you here.”
“Sure,” he responds, but his jaw doesn’t relax, his eyes stuck on Jaxon .
Hoping to avoid whatever this is, I get back to the car. Finally, Jaxon releases a grunt and peeks his head out. “When was the last time this car was serviced?”
I count the months from the last time I remember David taking it for a service. “Seven or eight months ago.” He lifts his brow in suspicion. “My ex-husband serviced it once a year.”
“Hmmpft.” Again. Luckily, he follows in English. “This car hasn’t been serviced in at least three years. My guess would be four.”
“What do you mean? I remember last fall; he took it for a service.” I blink, shaking my head in disbelief.
“Do you have a service book?”
“Yeah, it’s supposed to be here.” I open the passenger door and search the glove box. “Here.” Victoriously, I lift the service book and open it. No, no, no. This can’t be it . “You’re right,” I whisper.
“What?”
“You’re right. This car was last serviced over three and a half years ago.”
“Told you.” He shrugs, but I barely notice him. I drop to the small piece of lawn next to my driveway, burying my head in my hands.
“You ok?” he asks, his voice laced with discomfort.
“Yup, just peachy. It’s great to know that you were lied to for three and a half years, while risking your kid’s lives, driving them around in a car that wasn’t safe.”
He dips his head and turns back toward the car.
“Give me a minute,” I say with a fake, probably creepy-looking, smile and head inside the house.
I’m fucking fuming while I unlock my phone, finding his number in my contacts.
“Are you fucking kidding me, David?”
“Sadie, what’s going on?”
“Don’t ‘Sadie, what’s going on’ me! You lied to me about the car for almost four fucking years. ”
I hear him let out a huge sigh, making me even angrier. “Look, it’s not a big deal…”
“Not a big deal?! It’s a pretty fucking big deal, since it broke down today. Good thing I was heading to the store. What if I was already on the way to pick up the kids? What would happen then? Would you come from an hour away to pick them up?”
“It’s a pretty new car. I’m sure it’s fine.”
“You’re sure it’s fine? Oh, that makes it way better. The lawyer that knows nothing about cars says it’s ok, while avoiding checking with the professionals.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing…”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I say, pushing my nails into the palms of my hand. “Don’t you fucking dare turn this around on me. It was your responsibility, one of the very few you had. And you couldn’t even do that,” I bite out before ending the phone call.
My breath races while my eyes fill with tears. I’m not even sure what I’m upset about. He failed me, time and time again. But the nerve? The fucking audacity?
I hold back my tears, forcing myself to take deep breaths despite the lingering smell of car fuel. I swallow around the lump in my throat and wipe my sweaty hands on my pants before steeling myself to get back outside.
“Sorry,” I say to Jaxon. “Can you please tell me, how bad is it?”
“Regular wear and tear. It’s not too bad, but your spark plugs are completely worn. I need to change them, and it would be good to check everything else that might need replacement.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, making him smile for the first time.
“I can change the plugs here, but if you want me to check for anything else, I’d need to tow it to my shop.”
“I suppose that can’t be done before I need to pick my kids up?”
“Depends on when you need to leave.”
“Umm,” I check my phone, “in about three hours? ”
“Let me see what I can do.” He smirks.
“Sure. Thank you.”
He gets to work on hooking my car to his pickup. When he’s done, he throws me his phone, which I barely catch.
“I’ll call you in an hour to let you know the deal.”
“He’s such an asshole,” Sandy says after listening to me rage about David.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“I mean…”
“Sorry, I have another call. It’s the mechanic.”
“Tell him he should check under my hood, if you know what I mean,” she yells before I end the call.
I do know what she means. Matter of fact, David’s been servicing the car about as often as he serviced me, so my hood is in a desperate need of a checkup.
Jaxon tells me the car will be done by 2:30, which gives me just enough time to get in line for the school pick up. I’ll need to Uber to the shop, though, but that’s the least of my problems.
I get out of the Uber at 2:20, beyond grateful for Jaxon, gang member or not.
He’s finishing up as I enter his shop, the smell of oil and fuel hitting me once again.
I almost forgot how hot he is, his muscles stretching the fabric of his black t-shirt.
His hands are dark with grime and grease, but I wouldn’t mind having them on me.
I pick my gaze up, in time to see him wetting his lower lip. It’s probably a regular gesture, but it feels dirty somehow. Dirty in a way I like.
“It’s done.” He washes his hands, and I imagine the feel of his calloused fingers. “I changed your spark plugs, the air and oil filters and filled up your oil. Your brakes could have gone a month or two longer, but I went ahead and changed them, too. Figured it would be easier for you. ”
Relief floods me, and I almost choke up. “You were right. Thank you, so much.” I release a sharp breath. “What do I owe you?”
“Nothing. It’s cool.” He grabs a clean rag and dries his hands.
“No, I can’t let you do that. You saved me today.”
“Well, I won’t take your money. It’s not like this fix was your fault. Besides, I’d gladly help you with the other things, too.” He turns toward me, shooting me a small, almost imperceptible wink.
“Wha…” I say, before flushing all over once I remember Sandy describing me as lonely and horny.
He does his thing, putting his tools away while I’m frozen in place. This day was so fucking emotionally draining.
David has let me down so many times in the past, but today was the last fucking straw.
I’m done with it. Done with expecting anything or looking for anything.
I need to be touched. I need to be fucked.
Fucked good enough so I can see clearly again.
And the Viking in front of me looks like he can give me just that.
“Ok,” I say, apprehension lacing my voice.
“Sorry?” He shoots me a smirk as his eyebrow lifts.
“I said ok. You can help me with the other thing, too.” This time, I say it with more conviction.
He licks his lips, and there’s no mistake it wasn’t because his mouth dried up. I feel my courage slipping from me, so I peek at my phone before saying, “I need to get going. Thanks for this. You have my number.”
I get in the car while he leans on the other one, crossing his arms across his chest. The smirk on his lips is that of a lion ready to devour me whole.
And I can’t wait for it to happen.