Chapter eighteen
Riven
There was a fight tonight. It’s probably already started.
It was a Phantom versus LBC fight, just some low-level people fighting for money.
I’d been to these underground fights we did every Sunday more times than I could count.
Steel cages. Blood staining concrete. Unless it was someone I knew personally, I didn’t care to watch.
Tonight was nothing serious. Nothing that required me to be there.
Or at least that’s what I told myself.
I missed the turn that would have led to the parking garage where these fights usually happened. I had something more exciting in mind.
_____
Spencer’s Automotive was half-lit, one bay open, the rest dark. Not a soul in sight, but her. Nadia was leaning against the front of a car, hood up, music playing low from somewhere behind her. She’s not rushing. Not stressed. Just… there, like this is where she’s supposed to be.
I stopped in the doorway, watching contentedly.
After a second, she glances up, not at all surprised to find me here.
“You make a habit of trespassin’?” She asks.
“There’s a fight.” I ignore her.
“Yeah.” She pushes off the car, wiping her hands on a rag.
“Heard.”
“You’re not there.”
“Didn’t feel like it.” She shrugs.
“It’s your people,” I argue, tilting my head.
“They’ll survive.” A beat passes.
“You’re not there either.” She adds. My jaw
shifts slightly.
“Didn’t feel like it.” She smiles like she doesn’t believe me. It’s a sexy smile.
“Right.” Silence stretches, but it’s not awkward. Just… sitting there. I step further inside, eyes moving over the garage. Tools, parts, stripped engines, things half-built, and half-broken.
“You like this,” I say, more of an observation than a question, to which she raises a brow.
“You just figurin’ that out?” She rests her hands on her back.
“I didn’t say I didn’t know.” I retort.
“Then why say it?” That makes me pause.
Because I don’t have a better way to ask. Because I don’t know how to say what I actually mean.
“Why,” I demand, brushing over her question.
“Why what?” She tilts her head slightly.
“This.” I gesture vaguely.
“Why do you care about it?”
For a second, she just looks at me. Really looks. Like she’s deciding something. If I were an anxious man, that look would make me shift. uncomfortably. But I don’t mind. I like having her eyes on me. Then she shrugs, but it’s lighter this time.
“It’s control.” She explains.
“Everything else, people, sides, whatever. That’s messy.” She taps the side of the car.
“This isn’t. You put in the work, you know what it’ll do. It listens.” I watch her hand where it rests against the metal.
“People don’t.” I hear the words she’s not saying. She huffs a quiet laugh.
“People lie. Cars don’t.”
I sit with that, not responding right away. Just… taking it in.
“You crossed sides for this?” She asks after a second. I lean against a workbench, arms loose at my sides.
“Was on the way.” I shrug.
“Liar.” She calls me out. I grin, not arguing. She pushes off the car, coming over.
“Phantoms are gonna love that.” She continues.
“You ditchin’ a fight to hang out in LBC territory. Trespassin’. Hangin’ out with your enemy.”
“I’m not hanging out.” I deflect.
“No?” She gestures around.
“What would you call it?” I look at her. Don’t answer. Because I don’t know what this is. Only that I’m here. With her. Right now, that’s all I care about.
“If you’re so worried about me getting caught being somewhere I’m not supposed to be, maybe you should take me somewhere else.” That causes her eyebrows to shoot up.
“That sounds like you’re asking me to ask you on a date.” She crosses her arms.
“That’s not what I was doing at all.”
“Good, because you’re the last person I’d ever go on a date with.” She picks up a bolt.
“I’m telling you I’m taking you on a date.”
She throws the bolt at me.
“In your dreams.” She rolls those gorgeous eyes of hers.
“Why dream when I can make it a reality?” I grab her by her belt loop and pull her closer. When she’s in front of me, I casually rest my palms on her hips as she stares, unamused.
“C’mon, Slade. It’s just a harmless date. What’re you so afraid of ?” I taunt.
“Nothing is harmless when it comes to the two of us.” She puts her palms on my chest and pushes away, but I don’t let her go.
“I don’t date, Devereaux. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be you.” This time, I do let her go.
“Ouch,” I say it jokingly, but my chest tightens, frustration rising.
“Then, it won’t be a date.” I push off the bench.
“Just two people hanging out. Somewhere that won’t get me killed.” That catches her attention. I almost have her; I can see the interest in her eyes warring with the more cautious side of her brain.
“If by the end of it, you had zero fun, I’ll leave you alone.”
“Just like that?” She questions disbelievingly.
“Just like that.” Lies. Lies. Lies. She tilts her head, thinking it over. Trying to figure out my intentions. She sighs when she can’t find a logical answer.
But she should know by now that there is nothing logical about me and her.
“Lemme grab my jacket.”