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?”
Her brows shoot up and she leans in close. “Problem?”
“You know … he had those blisters … on his…” I let my eyes dart around. “Johnson.”
I want to snort laugh at the look on her face. She’s horrified. “His … he … what?”
“Oh,” I say, and I know I look genuinely shocked. “You’re not his … girlfriend, are you?”
She shakes her head. “No, but, we’re seeing each other. He has blisters?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” I wave a hand. “It’s a very common problem. I hardly noticed when we were together last.”
“You,” she gasps, “slept with him?”
I raise my brows. “Sure, he’s Tazen Watts.”
She narrows her eyes. “I thought…”
“Oh,” I say gently. “You thought he only played with one girl at a time? Shit, I’m sorry. I’ve opened my big mouth and upset you.”
“He just makes out like I matter, and that we’re exclusive.”
“Listen, why don’t you take a seat and wait for him to finish seeing the doctor.”
“Quinn.”
The voice is barked from behind me, and a big smile stretches across my face as I turn around to see Tazen in the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest. I wave my arms out to him. “Oh look, you’re back? How did the doctor’s visit go? Did they give you something to help clear it all up?”
His expression tells me he wants to stab me, multiple times. His eyes are narrowed in a fierce glare, that if I didn’t know better, I’d be afraid of.
“I wasn’t at the doctor,” he bites out. “I was out back.”
“Oh,” I say soothingly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize she wasn’t meant to know.”
“There’s nothing to know,” he says through clenched teeth, as he flicks his eyes to the girl who is now edging towards the door. “Rose, honestly, she’s joking.”