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Become the Right One
RUSH
I breathed in deeply,enjoying the cloy of grease and dirt in the air. Outside, a summer storm had kicked up and it was raining. The inside of the shop was warm and well lit, giving me a better view of what I was working on. Sweat beaded along my brow and I grunted. Sure all my family thought I was crazy as shit for enjoying the grime-ridden side of my job, but I relished in it. Pushing hard with all my force I tightened the nut, happy with the flush finish on the metal below.
Flipping my visor I reached for the blow torch ready to seal the welding. This baby would be ready for painting tomorrow and back to its owner the day after. I was fucking good at my job.
Motorcycles. They were my thing, my passion, and the reason for getting up in the morning. Whichever way you looked at it, bikes, speed, and grease were my happy place.
Rush was my name and in my nature. Well at least it was a truly apt nickname. I liked life hard and fast with nothing to hold me back, no ties or lead weights to slow me down. Or at least I had.
“You’ve turned this one around quick, even for you.”
Torching the nut I focused on the job in hand before switching off the flame and then flipping my visor and facing my business partner. Clint loomed over me, a cup of afternoon coffee in his hand.
“I don’t know how you drink that stuff in the afternoon,” I said, eyeing him.
“Yeah, and I don’t know how you are crouched under bikes all the time instead of riding them.” He motioned his free hand like he was on his bike.
I chuckled lightly. "I guess you're right."
We grinned at one another. Clint had been the best decision I’d made for my business. My grandmother's inheritance had set me up well. Well enough to buy a workshop and start fixing and selling, but six months in and it became clear I had an issue with some elements of business management. Mainly anything to do with paperwork and invoicing.
Luck would have it that at a weekend party up in the mountains a few weeks after I noticed the flaw in my plan, I met Clint. Not only did he like to ride, but he was also cool and easily became a loyal friend. The best part of all? He was shit hot with numbers.
He jumped at the chance to go in on my business and our partnership had been gold ever since.
"But I value my life and there's no way I'd ride out in that fucking downpour." I indicated the rain beyond the double glass doors. “I choose life," I added, and wondered where I'd heard the saying before.
“Nothing better than warm summer rain, Rush,” he replied, sipping on his coffee, and then tossing the cup in the nearby trash.
I stretched up from my crouched position, my muscles flexing and pinching out of the uncomfortable pose. “I tell you what is better, keeping all my limbs and oh… wait a minute… I like the way my face looks as is." My back cracked as I straightened my spine.
“Call yourself a daredevil, Jensen?” He laughed, but I saw the challenge in his eyes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever said that." I grinned and dabbed at the sweat on the back of my neck. “Rush, not dead, remember that.” No one had called me Jensen in years. In fact I could barely remember a time when I felt like a Jensen in my own skin. These days I was Rush, or Norton, at a push.
Clint chuckled and peered out at the downpour.
I couldn’t believe he’d go out in it, but that was Clint. For all his intense paperwork skills, he also had a crazy-ass side too. "Did you need something or just feel like shooting the shit before taking off?"
"Always working," Cint said but his face became thoughtful. “Fine, I’ve set out the invoices for this afternoon’s collections on the desk. I think even you can manage to read the names at the top. You remember how to use the card machine, right?” His mouth twitched and he pulled his bike keys from his jeans, jingling them.
The man was my height at six feet, but he wasn't as muscled. He wore his carrot-colored hair short. His skin was pale and freckled and didn't like the sun but that didn't stop him from wearing tank tops and jeans. He'd probably freeze riding out in the rain, but I wasn't going to tell him that. He was a grown ass man, and I wasn't his parental. We were the same age.
So, I shrugged. “Ha. Ha. It’s like I'm working with a wannabe comedian.” I dropped my smile. “Seriously though, don’t go out in that. It'll let up soon enough." Okay, I couldn't help myself.
"Aw, thanks for the concern, man, but I'll be fine."
Just to prove he was wrong, a huge bolt of lightning lit up the sky followed by a boom of thunder. I didn't like it. As a friend and as a man who relied on his business partner. "What can be so fucking important?”
“Firstly, you never need a reason to ride, and secondly, I’ve got some errands to run. Fucking deadlines and shit. You know, paperwork stuff."
I eyed him closely and worked to keep the scowl off my face. Just the thought of dealing with administration made me queasy. “Business deadlines?”
“No, our business is all buttoned up. But the old lady's new garden needs paying for by this afternoon if the contractors are gonna lay the new pathways, and I could do without her yelling at me for not sorting the fee.”
I snorted and hid it beneath a cough. Clint’s girlfriend wasn't old at all. She was young and gorgeous, if a little too high maintenance for my tastes. She was also a firecracker and there was no denying it. Amberlee come by the shop a few times. But I couldn't tell if Clint was serious about her or not. Yet, if he was paying to have her place landscaped, then they had to be.
