Chapter 1 #2
I shake my head. I worked in a garage for a couple of years, but stopped when the accident happened.
My sister took me in and helped me recover.
Once the court trials were over, I left the state.
I only left a note telling my sister I needed a fresh start, and I would contact her when I felt safe.
I didn’t tell her what state I was going to, in fear that Jared or one of his friends would find me and try to take me back, or worse, kill me.
My sister and I aren’t close, so it didn’t really matter in the end whether I told her where I was going or not.
She only took care of me out of pity because I was covered in burns.
The president sighs before standing. He walks around and toward me. I flinch a little as he gets closer, making him stop.
“If you can fix this car, you can have the job, for now. I will have someone keeping an eye on you until we know for sure that you are not a threat. I can’t take any chances with my brothers. I don’t want any mess-ups, or you are done,” he warns. “Follow me and we will get started.”
I nod and follow him out the door. We walk back the way we came, all of those eyes lingering on me once again.
He walks through the house and out the door leading to the garage.
It is smaller than the last garage I worked at, but it almost looks better because it has all the tools you need for just about anything. This garage is a mechanic’s dream.
“The blue 1970 Mustang is what you will be fixing. There’s something not working near the tire area,” the president says.
He probably wants to see if I can figure out what is wrong.
The car is already lifted. I have this feeling that it has to be something with the tires.
One of the tires is brand new, and some of the bolts on the other tires are loose.
I also notice new rotors and brakes for the car. There are no other cars in the garage.
I walk over to the Mustang and look at the new tire. I want to see what’s different between them all. After inspecting the work on the new one, I make my way over toward one of the older ones.
From what I can tell, the brakes and rotors need to be changed, along with the tires. I look over at the president and then the wall of tools. I grab an Allen wrench set, lug nut wrench, and a C-clamp.
I set all of the tools on the ground beside me, grabbing the lug nut wrench first. I need to get the nuts off before I can remove the wheel.
I put the wrench on a nut and start to put force into turning it.
Once all of the nuts are off, I lift the wheel off.
I drop the tire on the ground and lay it against a wall.
I walk back and grab the C-clamp before looking at the brakes. I decide against using the C-clamp and grab a T50 Torx. I attach it to the bolt of one of the brakes and loosen it. I pull the bolt out, then pry open the caliper and remove the old brake pads.
I grab my breaker bar and place it on one of the bolts that is holding the caliper bracket in place.
I’ve always hated loosening the bolts on the caliper bracket.
They are always the tightest and toughest to get off, but I can’t show that I am struggling now because I want to make a good impression.
Once I have the caliper bracket off, I move to the rotor.
I turn it to make sure that it is not held in place by a screw.
I gently tug on the rotor, but it won’t budge, so I stand and grab one of the larger hammers hanging on the wall.
I gently hit the rotor and spin it as I work, trying to loosen it up.
I see it break loose, and I place the hammer down.
I take the rotor and pull it off. Once again, I stand and walk over to the wall, looking for a metal wire brush.
After finding one, I grab it and walk over to the brakes and rotors.
Right next to the brakes and rotors, I see a piece of paper that says these are for the Mustang.
After making my way over toward the car, I place the brakes and rotors on the ground.
I start to brush where the rotor had been, trying to remove some of the rust before I place the new rotor on.
If you keep the majority of the old rust on, it can meld to the new rotor and make it hard to shift.
It can be annoying to take off, but it is important for later, and it will make the job easier.
I grab the brake cleaner and spray the rust. Next, I pick up the cloth beside me and apply brake cleaner to it, rubbing the new rotor on it, getting all the oil off.
Then, I place the new rotor on and attach a lug nut to make sure it stays in place while I add the caliper bracket.
Rotors like to fall out of place when they are new, so placing a lug nut helps hold them.
Quickly, I add some medium-strength thread locker onto the bolts so when there is vibration, the bolts don’t get loose.
I screw the bolts into the caliper bracket and take the torque wrench and tighten them.
My next job is to add some lubricant where the brake pads will sit, so it’s not metal against metal.
I get the brake pads and place them in their spot.
Taking the caliper, I slide it into position.
Then I grab the bolts and put them into the caliper.
With the torque, I tighten the bolts, making sure they are tight.
I remove the lug nut from the rotor, and pick up the new tire that is sitting against the car.
Grabbing the tire, I hoist it off the ground and place it on the car before I grab the lug nuts and put them in.
I hand-tighten them before I torque the lug nuts.
After working in a garage for so long, I learned that you never want the lug nuts to be loose or else your tires will come off when you drive, and that wouldn’t be good.
I stand up and turn around, looking at the president. He is standing with a shocked expression, but quickly covers it up when he notices me looking at him. I make my way toward the other side of the car, getting ready to look at the other brakes and rotors.
“You don’t have to do those. Let’s go back to my office to discuss everything,” the president offers.
I follow him back to his office. I don’t sit on the chair because I am filthy, and it looks brand-new.
He sits in his chair and looks up at me.
He motions toward the chair, and I shake my head.
I point to my clothes, now covered in oil stains, not wanting to get any stains on his chairs.
His chairs look so well taken care of, and I don’t want to ruin that.
The president lets out a breath and looks me in the eyes.
“Welcome to the Hell’s Reapers garage, Brooke, you’ve got the job. You start tomorrow at eight,” the president says.