And he hasn’t.
He’s about to see just how real I can be.
* * *
“Jesus, Quinn, you can’t go messing around with this shit.”
I glare at Lenny, Oscar and Jace as I button up my jeans.
“Come on, sweetheart, you could get arrested,” Lenny says softly.
I shoot daggers and him and snap, “Do you think I give a crap?”
“You should, your dad wouldn’t cope and you know it.”
“Of course, let’s worry about my dad who’s an alcoholic and has done nothing for this garage for years. Don’t worry about me, Lenny. Don’t worry about how this might be affecting me.”
His eyes grow soft. “Didn’t mean it like that, Quinn honey. I know how much this is hurting.”
“No,” I croak. “You have no fucking idea how much it’s hurting.”
“We do,” Jace says gently. “Honey, you know we do.”
“He used me,” I spit, hating the tears welling in my eyes. “Then he took everything. I won’t just lie down and let that happen. I won’t.”
“I think you’ve got a good set of balls on you,” Oscar says.
Everyone turns to look at him, shocked.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’ve fought your whole life, Quinnie.” He smiles. “Keep doing it.”
I nod, tying my hair in a ponytail. “I won’t do anything illegal, but if Tazen Watts thinks he can just shove me out, he’s very … very wrong.”
“You need to be careful, Quinn,” Jace mutters. “You could get into a lot of trouble.”
“Yeah, and if I don’t do this, I’ll never forgive myself. Trust me, guys. Please.”
With a sigh, Jace nods. Lenny walks over and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Got your back no matter what, Quinn. You know that. Be careful, yeah?”
“Yeah, Lenny.”
I look at them and I know I’m doing this for them as much as I am for myself.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
CHAPTER TEN
I throw my Mustang into park and slide out of the driver’s side. I slam the door and stride up to the garage, as if nothing has changed. I hold my chin high and my back straight as I push through the front doors. I step into the dimly lit space and immediately see Tazen standing with a gorgeous blonde. She has a hand on his chest and is smiling up at him, giggling.
My heart feels like it’s going to drop out.
It shouldn’t hurt, but it does.
Keep it together, Quinn. Don’t let him see what he did to you.
I start walking towards them, and at the sounds of my boots scuffing across the floor, Tazen jerks and looks to me. His eyes flash with surprise, before his face becomes tired, like he isn’t ready to deal with me again. “What are you doing here?”
I flash him my best smile. “Good morning, boss.”
He shakes his head, pushing the girl back and striding towards me. I try not to notice his tight shirt and those amazing jeans hanging on his hips. When he reaches me, he curls a hand around my upper arm and turns me towards the door. “What sort of game are you playing here, Quinn? I’m in no mood for it.”
“I’m working here,” I say simply.
“You’re not.”
I cross my arms. “I am.”
“No, you’re fucking not.”
I lean in close. “Yes, I fucking am.”
“Jesus,” he snaps.
“Ah, Taz,” the blonde says. “Should I leave?”
He turns to her and grunts. “Yeah, I’ll call you.”
“Don’t bet on it.” I smile sweetly. “He had his tongue down my throat only days ago. This guy is a first-class player.”
Her face scrunches and she turns to him. “Seriously?”
He grunts and glares at me. “We’re not exclusive, Bonny.”
Bonny. What were her parents thinking?
“No,” she says, crossing her arms. “But you said I was special, different and…”
“Oh, I know the next one,” I say, jumping up and down, waving my hand around. “Real! He said you were real.”
Tazen looks like he wants to strangle me. I keep my smile¸ even though inside I’m falling to pieces.
“No, but why would he have said that to you?”
Because I am real. Obviously. That actually makes my heart soften just a little, because he clearly didn’t say it to her.
“Look, Bonny,” he begins but she puts a perfectly manicured hand up.
“I deserve better,” she declares.
“Girl power!” I say, fist bumping the air.
Tazen steps closer to me, and curls his arm around my head and then presses a hand over my mouth. I want to bite him, but I just can’t manage it. So I stomp on his foot.
“Stay still,” he snaps.
I snort.
Bonny stares at us, then shakes her head. “This is too weird.”
“I’ll call you, Bonny. Explain.”
She huffs. “No thanks, like I said, I can do better.”
“Yeah,” Tazen snorts. “Whatever you say.”
Ooh, Bonny got burned.
Her face scrunches and she turns, storming out of the garage, picking up her purse on the way. When she’s gone, Tazen lets me go and spins so he’s facing me. “Leave, now.”
“Nope,” I say, stepping past him.
“I’ll call the fucking cops.”
I laugh. “I’ve been servicing their cruisers for years, so good luck with that.”
“Fuck!” he barks as I disappear into the office.
That’s right, Tazen Watts. You messed with the wrong girl.
* * *
“You’re doing it wrong,” I say, leaning a hip on a pole in the middle of the garage.
A young apprentice of Tazen’s is trying to fit a tire on the nearly final custom build that is due to go out tomorrow. It’s a super cool two-door convertible that’s bright candy apple red with white leather interior. It has a V8 engine that is awe-inspiring, and sounds even better. The convertible nearly tops a race car in speed.
“What the hell would you know?” he snaps at me.
“I’m a mechanic, and a good one. You’re doing it wrong.”
“Oh fuck off.”
I snort. “Oh, boss,” I call to Tazen who is monitoring the installation of an engine into a sleek, yellow build. “Potty mouth over here doesn’t seem to know how to fit a tire.”
“Stop tormenting him, woman!” Tazen finally barks.
“No. If I stop this car is going to be a shambles. If you give me a job, I can show you how epically awesome I am.”
“Not gonna happen. You can stand there until you get bored.”
“Seriously, boss?” the apprentice mutters. “Can’t you just kick her ass out?”
Tazen’s eyes grow hard. “It would be easier to poke my own eyeballs out than it would be to get rid of her.”
I snort laugh. “Admit it, Tazen. You like me.”
His lip quirks, but he says nothing. He just turns back to the job he was doing. I’m right, he likes me.
I turn back to the apprentice. “Do you want me to show you how it’s done?”
“No,” he grunts. “Not havin’ no wack job telling me how to fit a tire.”
I laugh. “Okay then, your loss. But you should know that is the wrong tire and that’s why it isn’t fitting correctly.” I turn and begin walking away, calling, “You’re welcome.”
When I reach the front of the garage, I slip outside and press my back against the wall. This isn’t as easy as it looks. Testing Tazen is truly testing everything inside of me, because all I want to do is throttle him. I hate watching, piece by piece, as my garage disappears before my eyes. In its place, slick cars and shiny equipment. If I’m honest, it’s impressive. Tazen has three builds currently going, and he’s brought his entire team over from California.
They still have a shop there, and the last lot of apprentices he trained up have now taken over and
are running the customs from there. From what I have figured out, Tazen flies back twice a week to overlook the builds and make sure they’re exactly how they are meant to be. He is running the shop here, with four members of his team that have been with him from the start. He’s building a good deal of race cars because of the amount of racing in this area.
It’s an impressive setup, and the four guys he’s got with him are amazing at what they do. Watching them work today has been a real eye opener. They are skilled mechanics. Watching Tazen work has been even more impressive, though I’ll never admit that to him. He is incredibly talented and when he gets under those cars, it’s enough for instant panty melting.
“Quinnie?”
I jerk and turn to my left to see Timothy, one of our old regulars walking up the drive. I flash him my best smile, but it’s as fake as fake can be.
“Hey, Timmy.”
“I heard what happened here,” he says with a sympathetic tone. “I’m so sorry.”
I nod, feeling the burn in my heart extend. “There wasn’t much I could do about it, I’m afraid.”
His eyes shoot towards the garage and go hard. “Heard about the jackass that took this place, I’m here to give him a piece of my mind.”
It’s laughable that he would say that. Timmy is a tiny, frail old man that couldn’t take Tazen on even if he was holding a gun. No doubt he has some serious word vomit to spew at him, though.
“It’s not worth that.”
Timmy turns his eyes to me, and narrows them. “It is worth that, Quinnie. Your family has owned this garage for a heck of a long time and some dirty bastard preyed on your weakness to snatch it out from beneath you. I can tell you now, he doesn’t have my business.”
I want to tell him it doesn’t matter, Tazen doesn’t need anyone’s business. He has a big enough one of his own and his client base is huge. He doesn’t fix cars, he builds them. I don’t say this, however, because it’s pointless. If Timmy wants to be angry, he has every right to be.
“Can I help you?”
I turn to see Tazen stepping outside. Timmy immediately strides over to him, waving a finger in his face. “You cannot help me, you terrible man. Do you know how long Quinn’s family has had this garage? Do you? And you took it away from her. You should be ashamed of yourself. You won’t have my business, do you hear me?”
Tazen stares at the man, then his eyes flicker to me. I look away.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, sir,” Tazen says in his most professional voice. I want to slap him because he sounds genuine. “Perhaps I have something I can offer you to make this transition a little less heartbreaking.”
Pig.
Stupid pig.
He doesn’t care about my heartbreak, he only cares about his business. He just doesn’t want a bad name.
“What you can do,” Timmy says, still waving his finger, “is give the garage back to the woman who helped build it.”
Tazen’s jaw tics. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Timmy huffs and puts an arm around my shoulder. “Then you’ll not have any support from this town.”
With that he turns his nose up. It would be laughable at any other time, but I can’t laugh at his passion. It makes me feel warm inside.
“If you need anything, you call me,” Timmy says, kissing my temple before leaving.
When he’s gone, I turn back to Tazen. I’m not going to apologize for that, because I’m not sorry. At all.
“Are you happy now?” he asks.
I shrug. “I didn’t ask him to behave like that, but I’m not sad he did.”
I walk back towards the garage, but Tazen’s hand lashes out and stops me by curling around mine. Then he leans down, so his mouth is near my ear. “Play your games, Quinn, I can outlast them. Know this, though … you will lose.”
Then he lets me go and disappears inside.
It didn’t escape my notice that he hasn’t called me angel since this all happened.
That doesn’t hurt … it doesn’t.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I’m still torturing Tazen. It’s been a week, and I have showed up every single day. I think he’s getting more used to me now, and that’s not cool. I don’t want him to get used to me. I want to make him suffer. I also want a job because not working is something that terrifies me. I understand the garage is probably never going to be mine again, but it’s the only thing I’ve ever known.
I can’t walk away, because I don’t know how the hell I’ll survive if I do.
It’s Monday, and I’ve been off the entire weekend. Restless doesn’t even begin to cover what I’ve felt in that time. I’ve paced my house, cleaned it from top to bottom, taken Dad out for lunch, hung out with Jace and still I’m so damned edgy that I can feel the swirls of depression tugging at my heart. I need to get back into my garage, and I need to do it quickly.
I grab my keys after I’m ready, and rush out the door with a muttered good-bye to Dad. I race to my car and get in. The entire way over, my mind is filled with anxious thoughts. One of those is that I have to be batshit crazy to still be doing this. Tazen doesn’t want me there. He isn’t even interested in giving me a job, yet I’m going back because I’m not ready to let it go. In fact, the very idea terrifies me.
I arrive at the garage and get out. It’s around 9 a.m., and it’s bustling. I walk up to the door and stop dead. The sign … Pixie Wheels … is gone. In its place is a new sign, stating boldly Hot Fury. Something slams into my chest and I take a few steps backwards, grasping at my chest. Reality hits like a hurricane and panic swirls in my chest, ugly, brutal panic. I start panting, an unexplainable hurt consuming me.
I start charging towards the garage entry. I burst through, panic rising, and run towards where Tazen is standing, talking to a group of shady looking men. I don’t stop and think, I skid to a halt beside him and screech, “Where is it?”
He turns to me, his eyes wide. “Excuse me?”
“Where,” I gasp, “is it?”
He narrows his eyes now, taking me in. He can probably see my panic attack from a mile away, and because of this, his face softens. “Where’s what?”
“My … s-s-s-sign,” I stammer. “Where is it?”
“Quinn, you’re making no sense.”
“My sign,” I scream so loudly he flinches. “Pixie Wheels, where the hell is it?”
He blinks at me, then recognition hits and he turns to his second in charge, Rick, who is currently working on a car. “Rick,” he yells. “Where’s the damned sign?”
Rick looks up, narrowing his eyes. “What fuckin’ sign?”
“The Pixie Wheels one.”
Rick shrugs. “Chucked it, why?”
No.
My knees wobble and I reach out desperately, trying to grab onto something. Tazen hooks an arm around my waist. “Whoa,” he says, steadying me.
“I-I-It’s gone,” I whisper. “That … my mom made that sign. She’s dead. It’s the last thing I had left. You…” I shove away from him. “You took that away.”
His eyes are gentle when he says, “I’ll get him to go and find it, okay? It’ll be fine.”
“Fine,” I hiss. “You’ll never see what you’ve done to me, will you?”
He gives me a pained look, but I turn and rush off. I go into the office and slam the door, locking it. Then I turn my back to it and slide down. I tuck my knees up to my chest, wrap my arms around them and cry. I cry so hard my body shakes. Everything is crashing around me and no one can see it. Dad is acting like he isn’t even missing the garage and the guys are all finding new jobs.
Everyone has given up.
I stay sitting on the floor for a long, long time. The pounding at the door jerks me back to reality and I slowly push up to my feet. My cheeks are coated with dried tears and my eyes are burning. I unlock the door and open it to see Tazen standing at the door with my sign in his hand. He places it against the wall and says, “Here you go, I told you I’d get it back for you.”
/>
I stare at the old sign, then look back up to him. “And this is supposed to just fix it all?”
He sighs. “Look, Quinn, I get it, okay? I do. I know this place meant a fuck load to you but you gotta let it go and move on. It’s getting out of hand. I handled it for a week, I can’t for another.”
“Then give me a job, at least give me that.”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Why?” I growl. “Because I’m a woman?”
He leans in closer. “No,’’ I have no doubt you hold a good deal of talent behind that pretty face, Quinn, but my garage takes a certain level of experience that I’m not sure you have. It has nothing to do with you being a woman. You need to find another job, and let it go.”
I lean in closer. “I’ll learn.”
He growls. “I don’t have a job for you, Quinn. You wanna answer phones? Then you can do that. As for the mechanical side, it isn’t,” he brings his mouth so close to mine I fear he’ll kiss me, “going to happen.”
Prick.
“We’ll see.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh and steps back, running his hands through his hair. “You’re pushing my buttons, woman. I’ll lock you the fuck out if I have to.”
I step past him, straightening my shoulders again. “Try it.”
Then I disappear into the garage.
* * *
“I was wondering if Tazen is here?”
I am sitting at the reception desk, because yes the phone was ringing so much I could no longer ignore it, so I started answering it. Tazen seemed pleased with this, because he was running in and out having to answer it and it was pissing him off. I’ve just put the phone down when a gorgeous brunette saunters in. I hate her instantly, because she looks like she fell off the model train.
Her long, thick hair is flowing in perfect loose curls around her shoulders and down her back. She’s wearing a tiny skirt and a tight tank that is displaying super fake boobs that, damn her, look amazing. She has eyes like emeralds and full, sensual lips. Perfection.
Damn them both.
“Oh.” I smile sweetly. “Tazen was here about half an hour ago. He had to go to an urgent doctor’s appointment.” I stand and lean over the desk to whisper, “You know, for his problem?”