I go down the hall to my room, close the door behind me, and sit on the edge of the bed with my hair still damp on my neck. I let myself smile for a full minute in the dark.
He is going to fight this, but he has already started to lose.
Chapter 7: Kane
I pull into the Iron Vault lot at five forty-five, before the sky has any color. I'm here this early because I haven't slept since she came out of the bathroom in that absurdly short robe with wet hair, getting me hard on the spot. Resisting the temptation is becoming a daily struggle.
I unlock the side door and let myself in ahead of the alarm reset. The bay is cold, and my breath shows in front of my face. I walk all six bays before I do anything else, the same circuit I've done every morning since we opened the doors. The crew turns the wrenches. I'm the one who signs off, and to sign off on a job here you have to know it by the inch.
By six I'm at the office desk with the coffee on and the day's tickets spread out. Three messages on the machine, two of them from the owner of the '67 Camaro who was told no for a Friday delivery. I delete his without listening. Men who pay six figures for a car think they pay six figures for the right to be told yes. Fuck them. They don't pay enough to buy me polite.
Toby comes in at eight, drops his bag at the workbench, and sees me at the office desk.
"Morning, Kane. How you—"
"Get to work, Toby."
His mouth closes around the rest of the sentence. He nods fast, knocks the empty mug off the workbench corner heading back to the bay, catches it before it hits the floor, and keeps going.
I skip lunch. I get the chain hoist set up in bay three and pull the small-block out of the second customer's car so the team can run the heads in the morning. I don't have to be the one running the hoist. I'm running it because sitting still isn't an option today.
Killian's people have flagged three things this week. Killian runs the intel side for the crew, and when his sources twitch, mine do. The first two pings were noise. The third was a name surfacing near her old address, a man Thorne has hired before for the kind of work you don't bring home. We pulled what we could from his record, which buys us a week, maybe two, before he finds another route in. I haven't told her any of this yet because I'm still working out the words. I'm running out of time to find them.
At three Jaxson comes by with two cups of coffee from Lou's and sets one on the workbench next to me.
"You forgot to eat."
"I'll eat tonight."
"You said that yesterday too."
I take the coffee but don't drink it.
"You all right?"
"Mmh... I will be."
"Anything you need me on?"
"No, thanks for asking."
He stays there for another beat without saying anything. Jaxson is good at silences and I'm usually his match, but tonight I break. She's too present in my mind.
"Sunday she's helping Lou with the pies," I tell him.
"Lou already told me. Said to tell you she'll have a plate waiting for you when you bring her in."
"All right."
He waits a moment more. Then: "She's Danny's sister, Kane, but she's also a grown woman. There's nothing wrong with feeling something for her."
I don't answer. He reads it on my face, nods once, and walks back to the bay he came from.
I leave the Iron Vault early. The crew stays on. I take the twelve miles home faster than I should, lying to myself about why.
***
She's on the couch with the textbook open when I come in. She looks up.
