by Wilder, L.
“If it does, we’ll be ready,” I assured him.
“I sure as hell hope so.” He started to walk away as he said, “If you need anything, just give me a shout.”
Once Blaze was back in his office, I looked over to Clay. Even though he’d been around for a few weeks, I still hadn’t gotten accustomed to his size. He was at least six-eight and was built like a fucking ox, reminding me of one of my linebackers back in high school. With biceps twice the size of mine, he looked like he could take down damn near anyone, but he had one of those pretty-boy faces that made him look soft. When he noticed that I was studying him, he asked, “What do you need me to do?”
“Grab a quarter-inch socket wrench and start securing the bolts to the transmission.”
It took him several tries, but he finally managed to get the right wrench and got to work on the transmission. While he was doing that, I started to work on the fuel lines and throttle cables. As I was checking the fuel pressure, I couldn’t help but notice that things in the garage were no longer quiet. The radio was back on, and the guys were joking around and telling tall tales as they worked. They didn’t seem worried at all about offending Darcy, or anyone else for that matter. I couldn’t help but think the change had something to do with Darcy’s little encounter with T-Bone. She’d made it clear that she wanted to be treated like one of the guys, and they were taking her at her word. I took a quick glance over in Darcy’s direction to see if she’d noticed the change in their behavior and found her busy working, completely oblivious to all the ruckus going on in the rest of the garage.
Knowing I had work of my own to tend to, I turned my attention back to Clay. After I’d made certain that he’d secured the transmission, I put him to work on the air intake manifold. I’d hoped that having an extra set of hands would help get the job done faster, but I quickly realized that wasn’t the case. Clay needed a lot of direction, which slowed things down. Thankfully, he was a fast learner. If he kept at it, paid attention, and didn’t give up, it wouldn’t be long before he could take on some jobs of his own. Once we’d finished with the engine, I lowered the hood, then turned to him and said, “You did good.”
“No, I didn’t, but I promise I’ll do better next time.”
“I’m sure you will.” I motioned over to Blaze’s office. “I’m gonna let him know we’re done.”
“You need me to do anything else?”
I looked around at all the mess around my station. “It’d be great if you could start cleanings things up a bit.”
“You got it.”
When I got to Blaze’s office, he was on the phone, so I stood in the doorway and waited for him to finish his call. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that he was talking with Kenadee. While he wasn’t calling her quite as often as before, he still felt the need to check in with her from time to time. Once he felt certain that everything was good with her, he hung up the phone and turned his attention to me. “Is the truck ready?”
“Yep. It’s all good to go.”
“Great.” I didn’t miss the unease in his voice when he asked, “How did Clay do?”
“He did okay. He’s still got a lot to learn, but he catches on fast,” I assured him. “In a couple of weeks, he should be able to start handling some things on his own.”
“It sure would be nice to have an extra set of hands around here.”
“Yes, it would.” The garage was started as a front, used simply to launder the money the club brought in from running guns, but over the past few years it had turned into something more. Business was booming, and Blaze was doing everything in his power to keep the momentum going. That was one of the very reasons we’d hired Darcy. “You need us to take care of anything else before we go?”
“No. That’s it for the day.”
“Then I’m gonna head out.” As I walked out of his office, I said, “I’ll see ya back at the clubhouse.”
I headed back over to my station and was surprised to see that Clay had it in perfect order. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. He’d even moved the truck to the front for the owner to pick up. I thanked him and sent him on his way. After gathering my things, I started for the parking lot and was about to step out the back door but stopped when I heard Darcy shout, “Yeah, baby! That’s what I’m talking about.”
Curious, I turned around and made my way over to the paint room to see what had her so excited. When I stepped inside, I found Darcy in her oversized white painters suit staring down at the freshly painted gas tank. From where I was standing I couldn’t see the design, but if her expression was any indication, I’d say that she’d done an amazing job on it. I walked over to her, and just as I suspected, the dragon design she’d created looked incredible. “Damn, that’s awesome.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Darcy was practically beaming as she looked up at me and said, “Well, I still need to do another layer of clearcoat, but I think you might be right. It looks pretty damn good.”
“It looks better than good.” A smile crossed her face as I told her, “It looks amazing.”
“Thanks.” She started unzipping her painter’s suit as she asked, “You done for the day?”
“Yeah. I got everything wrapped up and was about to head out. What about you?”
She shrugged. “I’d like to stay and finish this up, but I got the feeling Blaze is ready for me to call it a day.”
“He’s gotta pick up Kenadee.” I glanced over at the clock on the wall to check the time. “If you really want to stay, I could find something to keep me busy for a couple of hours.”
“No, that’s okay. I can finish everything in the morning.”
“Okay. Suit yourself.”
I turned and started towards the door but stopped when Darcy asked, “Hey…you wanna grab a beer or something?”
I turned around and she was out of her painting getup, walking towards me and looking hot as ever. Damn. It would be easy to get all twisted up about her again, but I couldn’t let that happen. I had to keep my shit together and remember Darcy wasn’t just some girl I used to lust over. She was working for the club now, and I couldn’t fuck that up. Noticing my hesitation, she nudged me with her elbow. “Come on, Rider. It’s just a beer. I’m not asking you to walk down the aisle.”
CHAPTER 4
Darcy
I don’t know what possessed me to ask Caleb to go out for a beer. Maybe I wanted to celebrate the fact that I’d survived my first day at the Satan’s Fury garage or maybe it was the simple fact that I wanted to reconnect with an old friend. There was a time when Caleb and I were close, really close. We told each other everything, finished each other’s sentences. Hell, I knew what he was thinking even before he did, but that was a long time ago. Looking at him now, I had no idea what was going on in that head of his, but it was clear that he had his reservations about going out to have a drink with me. I won’t deny that the realization stung a bit. I was beginning to think he was going to turn me down when he finally asked, “Where do you want to go to have this beer?”
“I’m not picky.” I shrugged. “You decide.”
“We could go over to the 8-Ball. It’s just around the corner.”
“Sounds good to me.” I walked over and grabbed my wallet and keys off the table. “I’m ready when you are.”
I followed him out to the parking lot, and after we’d both gotten on our bikes, we drove over to the 8-Ball. The place was pretty empty, just a couple of old dudes playing a game of pool and two more up at the counter, so we didn’t have any trouble finding a spot to sit. We’d just gotten settled when the bartender shouted from across the room, “Hey, you two…what will it be?”
“Two beers,” Caleb answered. “Whatever you have on tap.”
“You got it.”
Caleb and I sat there in awkward silence while we waited for our beers to be brought over. As soon as he’d placed them down on the table, we both reached for our glasses an
d took a long drink, then Caleb broke the ice by asking, “So, what’s with the crotch-rocket?”
“I’ll have you know, that crotch-rocket is an amazing piece of machinery,” I sassed. “It’ll take a right-hand curve at eighty miles an hour like it’s gliding across glass.”
“Um-hmm. It’s still a crotch-rocket,” he scoffed.
“It’s a Kawasaki H2R.” I took another sip of my beer before asking, “Have you ever even ridden on one?”
“No. Can’t say that I have.”
“Well, you know what they say. Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“What about you? Ever ridden on a Harley?”
“A couple of times.” I shrugged. “They’re cool and all, but if you ask me, they’re overrated.”
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”
I chuckled as I said, “I’m just telling it like I see it.”
“You keep talking shit, and I’m gonna need another beer,” he fussed.
“Okay, I’ll ease up on you.” I smiled as I watched him take a tug off his beer. “Hey…you remember back when we were kids, how we’d spend every recess trying to see who could swing the highest? I’d beat you every single time.”
“Funny. That’s not how I remember it at all.” His lips curled into a sexy smirk as he continued, “But I’ll tell you this—if you did happen to win on some rare occasion, it’s because I let you. The same goes for those races across the soccer field.”
“You are so full of shit!” I gasped. “I won those races fair and square, and you know it!”
He shrugged. “If you say so.”
“Whatever. I know who won.”
“I do, too. It was me.” When Caleb saw my mouth drop, he shook his head and snickered. “You always were a sore loser.”
“Maybe so, but that’s only because I didn’t get much practice with it,” I argued, “’cause I was always winning.”
“Um-hmm. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Again, I gasped. Seeing that he’d gotten the reaction he was looking for, he decided to try and change the subject. “Do you remember how Mrs. Collins was always on our ass about being late?”
“I know what you did there…changed the subject before I had a chance to prove you wrong, but I’ll let it slide this time.” I took another drink of my beer before I smiled and answered, “Mrs. Collins was an uptight, crabby old biddy who needed to get laid.”
“I don’t disagree with you there. She was a fucking killer when she brought out that damn paddle.” He shook his head and winced. “I don’t think my ass was ever the same after she got me that last time.”
Even though I knew exactly which time he was referring to, I didn’t know all the details behind it so I asked, “You talking about that day when you and Ethan Taylor got into it in sixth grade?”
“That would be it.”
“I thought so. Mrs. Collins was fuming when she broke you two up.” Hoping for some clarification, I asked, “I can’t remember. What did you two fight about anyway?”
“Hell, I can’t really remember.” It was clear from his expression and tone of voice that he was lying, which made me wonder if their argument had something to do with me. “But if I had to guess, I’d say he was running his mouth about something, and I got tired of hearing it.”
From day one, Caleb was one of the most popular boys in school, but he never let it go to his head. If he saw a weaker kid getting bullied, he would always jump in to give them a hand. It’s just the kind of guy he was, and one of the many reasons why everyone thought so much of him. I smiled slightly and said, “Ethan was a douchebag.”
“Yes, he was,” Caleb agreed. “But I shouldn’t have decked him like I did…at least not during the middle of Mrs. Collins’s class. I should’ve at least waited until she wasn’t in the front of the room teaching.”
“You’re probably right,” I scoffed. “Maybe then, she wouldn’t have gotten so pissed about it.”
“I doubt it would’ve made much difference. She was always looking for someone to crawl.” He chuckled to himself as he reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. As he lit one, he looked over to me and asked, “So, how did a girl from the small town of Oakland learn to paint the way you do?”
“I don’t know.” I gave him a slight shrug. “It was just something I kind of picked up.”
“How did you get started?”
I thought back for a moment, then replied, “I’m not sure if you remember that old pickup I had?”
“Yeah, I remember it.”
“Then, you know it was in pretty rough shape.” He nodded, and I continued, “I wanted to see what I could do with it, so I tried anything I could get my hands on, which wasn’t much. I didn’t have any money at the time, so it was mainly second-rate spray paint, but it actually turned out fairly decent. A couple of my brothers’ friends paid me to work on some of their stuff, and it wasn’t long before I was able to buy some basic equipment.”
“So, no one taught you how to do it?”
“I took art in high school and learned some basics, but for the most part, no, I taught myself.” I shrugged. “With each new job, I tried different things, created more intricate designs and colors, and eventually figured out how to do it like the bigger shops.”
“That’s really incredible, Darcy.” When I saw the way Caleb was looking at me, so intense and genuine, a delicious shiver ran down my spine. I knew I should look away, but my traitorous eyes remained locked on his. It was like I was under some kind of spell, but thankfully, his gaze eventually dropped to the table and the moment was broken. “You should be really proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
“I’ve done okay. I’m just hoping this new position at your club’s garage was a good move.” Dread crept over me like an icy chill at just the thought of everything I’d worked for going up in smoke. Even though Fury had made a name for themselves and people from all over were trying to get their vehicles into their garage, there was no way of knowing how things were going to play out, especially with the members. I was hopeful, but I knew from past experiences, that things rarely go the way I expected them to. I looked over to Caleb and said, “I took a big risk leaving Thompson’s like I did.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I think you made the right decision.” His expression softened, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice. “They’ll look out for you and help out any way they can. Each and every one of them.”
“I don’t need them or anyone else looking out for me, Rider.”
He cocked his eyebrow at me as he gave me a look that had me shifting in my seat. “Someone having your back isn’t a bad thing, Darcy.”
“No. Not until the day they aren’t there when you really need them. That’s when you realize you can’t really depend on anyone but yourself.”
I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t expecting my response, so I wasn’t surprised when he asked, “What makes you say that?”
“Because it’s true. At least, it was for me.” I lifted my beer and finished it off before I continued, “Things at home had never been good for me or my brothers, but the day Mom walked out on us, things got even worse. Dad was already in jail. Danny and Eddie did what they could, but they kept getting into trouble with the law, too. That’s when I learned I had to survive on my own, or not at all.”
His eyes darkened with sympathy as he whispered, “I’m sorry things were so tough for you.”
“There’s nothing for you to feel sorry for. I’m sitting here right now, living and breathing. I’ve done okay for myself, so just save your sympathy for someone else.”
“Damn, Darcy.” Caleb leaned back and crossed his arms, giving me one of those looks that made me wish I’d kept my thoughts to myself. “If you put those walls up any higher, no one’s gonna get in or out, including you.”
“How would you know? Are you speaking from experience, Mr. I-grew-up-with-a-silver-spoon-in-my-mouth?”
“You don’t know me as well as
you think you do.”
“I know you grew up with two parents who loved you and your sister, and they made sure you had food on the table and clothes on your back.”
There was no missing the pain in his voice as he said, “Yeah, but when things went south, they kicked my ass to the curb, turned their backs on me, and as far as I know, they never looked back.”
“I didn’t know they did that to you.”
“It wasn’t like I gave them much choice in the matter. Hell, I would’ve done the same fucking thing if I was in their shoes.” His eyes skirted to the floor, and suddenly it felt like he was a hundred miles away. I wanted to reach out and comfort him in some way, make him forget about whatever was weighing on him, but I just sat there and listened as he said, “I was a complete mess after the accident.”
Everybody in Oakland and three counties over had heard about the star quarterback who had almost lost his arm in the cotton picker, but I never knew how it happened. It couldn’t be easy for him to talk about, so I hesitated to ask him. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. After several minutes, he started, “I’d been sitting in the cab, letting the engine warm up, and was just about to go out into the field, when I heard this strange noise coming from the picker. I’d gotten out to see what it was and noticed that some spindles were hitting the head cover.”
“I’m guessing that’s a bad thing.”
“Well, it’s not good but could easily be fixed, I just couldn’t do it alone. I was about to get back up in the cab to kill the engine when it happened.” His face twisted into a pained grimace. “I don’t even know how it did, but my sleeve had gotten caught and my arm was pulled into the spindles.”
“Oh, God. You’re lucky you didn’t lose your arm.”
“I would’ve, if I hadn’t managed to pull it free, but I still fucked it up pretty badly.”
“How bad was it?”
“I was cut up pretty badly, torn muscle and tendons, and my wrist was dislocated. I ended up being airlifted to Vanderbilt. The muscles were damaged, so the surgeon there had to take some from my back and transplant them into my forearm.” It was difficult to hear about everything that had happened to him. I could only imagine how hard it must have been to actually live through it. Caleb let out a deep sigh as he lifted his arm and clenched his fist. “Thankfully, they were able to repair the tendons and restore function to my arm and hand, but my football days were over.”