Fear coiled in my gut, and I took a step back.
He blinked and looked away.
“Aspirin’s in the cabinet on your right,” he said flatly.
I walked over and opened the cabinet, swiping the bottle of painkillers with a sigh of relief. By the time I turned around again, Kai was setting a bottle of water on the counter beside me.
I took two pills and chased them with water.
Kai went back to reading over his spreadsheet, and the silence stretched until it felt awkward. I was just about to turn and head back upstairs when he spoke.
“I hope whoever did that to you got what they deserved.”
Wait. Was he actually being nice?
I hid my surprise with sarcasm. “You sound almost like you feel sorry for me.”
He glared, which seemed to be his permanent expression—at least, when I was around. But I couldn’t help goading him. He’d been a dick this entire time, and now he wanted to show empathy? I wasn’t in the mood. Probably because my head was pounding like a high school marching band. Also, for some reason, fighting with Kai helped keep the grief at bay. Anger was so much easier to feel than heartache.
“You look like shit,” he shot back. “And if whoever did that comes here, looking to do it again, I don’t want to clean up your blood off my floor.”
“Isn’t it Oscar’s floor?”
He dropped the spreadsheet and walked up to me, closing the distance so fast I didn’t have time to think before my back hit the wall and Kai was towering over me, invading my space.
His scent hit me.
Pine, like the forest. I hated that whatever soap he used made me kind of want to lick him. It was probably called “sexy woodsman asshole” or something.
I swallowed hard as he leaned in, his expression definitely more the ‘asshole’ part of that scent right now.
“Listen to me because I’m only going to say this once,” he said in a quiet voice that was somehow worse than if he’d yelled. “You don’t belong here. You don’t know me, and you sure as hell don’t know Oscar, so don’t pretend to understand his business—”
He stopped short, his nostrils flaring and his eyes darkening to something like a thunderstorm. Lightning flashed—pure, raw rage—and then his expression shuttered and went blank.
“What are you?” he demanded in a quiet voice that raked over every nerve ending I had.
“Excuse me?” I asked, breathless and more turned on than I’d ever been in my life. It didn’t matter that he was rude. Or hostile. Or invading my personal space for the sole reason of intimidating me.
I couldn’t think straight, and even if I could, my body responded to him in ways I kind of wanted to slap myself over.
“Ugh. Forget it. This is insane.” He stepped back, shoulders lowered. I didn’t miss the way his hands had fisted at his sides, but other than that, he was completely devoid of the anger that had just driven him to corner me here.
With a little space between us, my breath whooshed out of me. Instead of the relief I should have felt, disappointment speared through me. And on its heels, the grief crashed in around me again. My lip trembled and I bit it to hide my display of emotion.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I mumbled, still trying to understand what the hell he meant.
He didn’t answer right away, just continued to stare at me with disbelief and those bedroom eyes that made me want to strip naked right here and—
“Impossible,” he muttered into the silence, and then he turned and slammed his way out the front door. I watched through the window as he marched around the corner and out of sight.
What in the actual hell was that?
It took my ovaries several moments to recover from the loss of everything that would not be happening next. I’d almost talked myself into giving in and using Kai as the distraction I knew he could be. Anything to not feel the loss and emptiness inside me.
Confused and already exhausted, I gave up on finding food or Oscar or anything else. Instead, I made my way back upstairs and crawled into bed, lost and hurting—in more ways than one.
Maybe fighting with Kai wasn’t the best way to deal with grief after all.
Some time later, pain shot through me, and I came awake to a hand shaking my shoulder. I winced and shrank away from it. The hand disappeared.
My eyes cracked open, and I recognized Oscar leaning down over me. “Sorry,” he muttered. “You were out.”
He straightened and looked down at me, frowning.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, alarm zipping through me.
If he kicked me out now, I had nowhere to go. And no way to get there.
“You look like hell,” he said matter-of-factly.
“So I’ve heard.” I struggled to prop myself on my elbows.
“Here.” He dropped a paper bag onto the mattress next to me.
“What’s this?” I asked, my nose already giving it away. The smell of bacon hit me, and my stomach cramped with hunger.
“Figured you might be hungry,” he said.
And even though the words were gruff, the gesture was kind. I grabbed for the bag, undeterred by his brusqueness.
“Thank you,” I said, sitting up and pulling the brown paper open to peer inside. A wrapped breakfast sandwich and hash browns. Baby Jesus.
I reached inside and started shoving hash browns into my mouth then immediately regretted it.
“Shit, hot,” I managed around a mouthful of scorching potato.
Oscar chuckled. “Orange juice is there,” he said, pointing at where he’d set it on the nightstand.
I grabbed for the cold liquid and practically poured it down my throat. “Thanks.” My word was muffled from the mouthful of warring temperatures.
“I made some calls,” he said in a voice that had me pausing just before I could take another bite. I lowered the sandwich, heart hammering at the sad look in his eyes.
“About what?” I asked. Was he trying to get rid of me?
“Caleb—your father’s body was being held by local police until their investigation was complete. I signed off for him to be transferred to a funeral home back in Reading. They’re holding a small service this afternoon graveside. I thought you might want to know.”
Surprise then gratitude washed over me. “I appreciate that.”
“I would have brought him back here to be buried on family land, but they said his will specifically asked that he not be returned.”
“He had a will?” That was news to me.
“Apparently.”
Apparently was right. I had no idea. He must have felt very strongly about this place to make a will that stated he not be returned even in death.
“Did it say anything else?” I asked.
Anything about what the hell he’d made us run from my whole life.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
I nodded, absently rubbing my chest as heartache panged. Not being there to say goodbye sucked. I looked down, blinking away tears. The last thing I wanted was for Oscar to think I wasn’t grateful for everything he’d done.
“I have a link from the funeral service company,” he went on, and my head snapped up again, my eyes wide. “They’ll live stream it if you want to watch.”
“Yes, I—” I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. “I’d like that very much.
Oscar looked mildly uncomfortable, and I wondered if it had to do with the emotional moment we were having. “Eat and rest,” he said, turning and heading for the door. “I’ll come back later to check on you and give you the link.”
“Actually, can I ask you something?” I asked.
He turned back. “What’s up?”
I set the food aside for the moment, ignoring my empty stomach for a few minutes more.
“About my car,” I said, unsure where or how to begin.
“Oh, right. It’s parked in the back lot. I’ll have one of the guys take a look at it this afternoon.”
“It’s here?” I blinked, surprised.
“Yeah, I had a buddy tow it in early this morning.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.
Except, in my world, it was a huge deal. All of this was. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken care of me this way. Hot tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them back.
“Thanks, look, I’ll pay whatever it is.”
He waved me off. “Like I said, Crater owed me a favor.”
“Okay.” I swallowed, trying to figure out my next words. Avoiding his eyes, I said, “Listen, I appreciate you letting me stay the night. I’ll be out of here as soon as—”
“I told you already; you can stay as long as you need.”
My head came up. I checked his face for some sign of a joke or a punch line.
“You’re my brother’s kid,” he added as if that explained everything.
“You don’t owe me anything,” I began.
“No. But family takes care of family,” he said firmly as if the phrase meant something to him.
I didn’t bother mentioning I had no idea what family even was. Besides my dad, I’d never had anyone. Flings and acquaintances, sure, but no one I could count on. No one who could be considered family. After my mom left us, I wasn’t sure I wanted it either. Oscar wasn’t a complete asshole, like Kai, but he wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows either.
“I don’t even know what that means,” I admitted.
He grunted.
“And I can’t take your charity,” I added.
“Not offering charity,” he drawled.
My eyes narrowed.
He crossed his arms.
It felt like a standoff, except I had no idea what the stakes were.
“You know how to answer a phone?” he asked.
I nodded.
“What about computers?”
“I aced my classes and even took one college course in accounting,” I said.
I didn’t bother explaining my classes had all been done on a refurbished laptop provided by the state to low-income households. A computer was a computer, right?
“Why?” I asked.
“I need someone up front to schedule and do invoicing.”
“You want me to work for you?”
“Like you said, you can’t take charity.”
Hmm. “So, I’d earn a paycheck?”
“It doesn’t pay much but yeah. Fair and square. As long as you do the job.”
I looked around the small bedroom. “I can’t exactly afford rent.”
“You can have this room,” he said. “Perk of the job.”
When I opened my mouth to argue, he cut me off. “You’ll pull your weight here too. Cook, clean, take care of the place. Do that, and we’ll call it even.”
I bit my lip, considering it.
Vorack wasn’t likely to just forget the debt my father owed. Not after witnessing that monster he’d become. And I damn sure didn’t want to live the rest of my life on the run from him. If I could earn enough to pay him, it would clear me. And it wasn’t like I would find a better deal anywhere else.
Besides, I’d worked in diners and dives since I was fourteen. Stocking and running a kitchen was the easiest work he could have asked for.
“Okay,” I said finally. “You have a deal.”
Oscar grunted his own agreement, and just like that, I had a home and a job. A new life. I wondered what Kai would do when he found out. If he’d be angry. I snorted to myself. Of course he’d be angry. I couldn’t imagine him any other way, honestly. Okay, that was a lie. I imagined Kai all sorts of ways. Angry and naked. Angry and kissing me. Angry and taking my clothes off.
At first, I’d considered my attraction a response to my grief. Anything to distract me. But now, I was starting to wonder if there was more to it. The thought should have scared me, but all it did was excite me in ways that were, without a doubt, going to get me into serious trouble. Story of my life.
Chapter Five
Despite my protests, Oscar insisted I spend the entire day in bed, downing Aspirin and water until the pounding in my head and the throbbing throughout my body became manageable enough to function. After he returned to the shop and the next round of painkillers kicked in, I found myself sinking once again into a restless sleep. My dreams were horrible; nightmarish visions of my father becoming a monster and then dying and then waking up and doing it all over again.
I watched my father’s funeral through bleary eyes and fuzzy thoughts. Tears ran freely down my face, but Oscar, dry-eyed and stoically silent, stayed for all of it. I was glad. Other than us watching the live stream, there was no one present. Once, I thought I saw a figure in the corner of the camera as they passed by the gravesite. A man dressed in a dark jacket and sunglasses. His haircut had reminded me of Vorack, but he was gone too fast to know for sure.
After that, I was too lost to my own grief to even care.
By the time the service ended and the live stream cut off, Oscar was fidgeting. I told him to get back to work, and the moment he was gone, I gave in to my grief and cried myself to sleep.
Hours later, Oscar brought me dinner—another paper bag full of fast food—and even through my haze of pain and grief, I realized he needed that cooking and cleaning more than he’d let on.
The place wasn’t gross, but dust motes danced in the slanted sunlight that streamed in through the windows, and the fast-food dinner seemed like a habit.
By the next morning, I woke a little less achy and a lot more clear-headed.
Oscar’s bed was already empty when I stumbled to the bathroom and took a shower. But when I emerged, a couple of pairs of leggings along with a few sports bras and tank tops had been tossed onto my bed.
I looked around, listening for someone else, but the apartment was quiet. Empty.
Wrapped in a towel, I picked up the clothes and examined them. One was a button-down shirt with the Twisted Throttle logo printed on the right breast. Underneath, Oscar’s name had been stitched. It would be big, but I could tie off the ends at my waist and make it work. Moving on, I studied the sports bras and leggings. They were my size, I realized with surprise. Somehow, I couldn’t picture Oscar shopping for clothes in my section. Especially sports bras.
Not that I was complaining.
I got dressed and ran a comb through my hair. My face was still a hot mess, but the rest of me looked almost human again. It would have to do. I couldn’t sit in this apartment alone for another day. Not when my thoughts kept drifting back to my dad.
Now that the funeral was over, all I could think about were monsters. The one he’d become and the ones supposedly hunting us. I’d lived with his fears for so long they’d become commonplace. I’d dismissed them and learned to live with his paranoia like one would live with OCD. But now, I knew there had to be more to it.
The questions my mind made up continued to torture me. So, rather than drive myself crazy, I headed downstairs. Even another run-in with Kai would be better than sitting alone with my thoughts.
But Kai was nowhere to be seen in the front office. In fact, despite the “Open” sign lit up in the window, the place was empty.
I peered through the side door that led to the garage and saw Oscar perched on a stool beside a large motorcycle decked in chrome.
Beyond him, there was one other guy farther back. He was bent over the hood of a car. My car.
I opened the door and stepped into the garage. The scent of grease and oil hit me. I found it weirdly pleasant. Oscar looked up as I walked over.
“Morning,” I said.
“I didn’t think those bruises could get any worse,” he said, studying my face.
I lifted my fingers to my cheek but then thought better of it. “They look worse than they feel,” I said.
“Good thing.” He snorted.
“How’s it going with my car?” I asked.
He looked over at it and then pushed to his feet. “Let’s go find out.”
I followed him over.
/>
“Drake,” Oscar called out.
The guy bending over the hood straightened and turned, giving Oscar a nod. When he saw me, his perusal became more thorough. As did mine. He was a little older than me but not by much. Good-looking too. His brown eyes were sharp, assessing. His gaze lingered on the bruises I wore, and his expression turned guarded.
“This must be the niece,” he said to Oscar, somehow ignoring me despite looking right at me.
I rolled my eyes. And just like that, my interest in him dried up.
“Ash,” Oscar supplied. “What’s the verdict?” he asked, gesturing to the car.
“She’s DOA, in my opinion.”
“What’s DOA?” I asked.
He pretended I hadn’t spoken. It was Oscar who answered.
“Dead on arrival.” He grimaced. “That bad, huh?”
“From the looks of it, the thing should have been junked a long time ago,” Drake said. “It’s not worth the rust it’s covered in. I vote we sell it for scrap metal and be done with it.”
“That’s not your decision to make,” I said.
The guy arched a brow but otherwise didn’t respond.
Oscar turned to me. “Drake’s right. It would cost more to fix than the damn thing is worth. You’re better off junking it and starting fresh.”
“Starting fresh?” I repeated, biting back a scream.
Couldn’t he see that’s what I’d already done? It wasn’t like I’d had a choice either. But without a car, I was completely and utterly stuck here. At the mercy of guys like Kai and Drake and Oscar.
Not a single friendly face in sight.
My dad might have been a drunk and paranoid, but he didn’t talk to me like he wanted to shove me into a ditch somewhere.
“Whatever, fine,” I said.
“Drake will take care of it and settle up with whatever we get for the scrap,” Oscar said, totally clueless about my looming breakdown.
“I’m on it, boss,” Drake said.
“Good.” Oscar turned to me. “I need to call a customer, but then you and I can go over some training in the front office.” Oscar looked at me for confirmation.
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