AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Noticing I’m not going to give him the time of day, let alone solve the problem with his truck, he growls in frustration.
“Mike, wait,” he calls out.
But I don’t wait. I stride into the office, hoping to find a distraction, but it’s empty. Where’s Tigger when you need him? Seconds later, the bell hanging above the door jingles and Jenson walks in. We stare at each other, neither of us giving in, which is probably shocking for him because growing up, I was the one to cower.
Well, buckle in, motherfucker. I ain’t cowering anymore.
“Listen,” he starts. “I can see you’re still pissed.” I growl, and he holds up his hands in defense. “Rightfully so. I was a bit arrogant in my youth.”
“Damn straight. And from what I can tell, you still are. Why don’t you turn around, get back in your flashy truck, and get the hell out of here?” I point to the door.
Cyrus picks this second to walk in. The old bear of a man looks between us, assessing the situation. “Everything okay in here?”
“It’s fine. I’ll find another shop.” He turns to leave but stops with his hand on the door. “Can I drive it without that thing in it?”
Cy’s brows pitch in question. “Thing?”
I keep my lips pursed tight, but when Cy’s head tilts, I give in with a huff. “His fuse. Something’s going on with his audio system.”
He glances outside, mentally noting that Jenson’s truck is worth more than the building we’re standing in. I can practically see the dollar signs flash across his greedy eyeballs.
“Fuse?” Cy asks. He gestures out the door. “Let’s go take a look.”
Goddamn it. Did he not pick up on the fact that I don’t want this guy anywhere near me? I stay rooted in the office while the two leave. I’ll let Cy reset his system and send him on his way. Until then, I’ll hide out.
I watch as Cy speaks with the man who harassed me, embarrassed me, and turned every kid against me without a drop of remorse. Jenson’s arms are folded across his chest as he listens intently to whatever Cy is saying, giving me a chance to appraise him. He appears to be doing well for himself; I’ll give him that. But it’s not hard to do when you grow up rich and spoiled. I’d bet my right nut he was handed a position with his daddy’s company right after he graduated from the prestigious college their money also got him into.
Not me. I grew up in Section 8 housing, and even then, it was hard for Mom to make rent. I had no business going to private schools, but Mom—who now lives in our clubhouse and goes by Sugar after adopting all my MC brothers—applied for every scholarship she could find to put me there.
She had it in her head that if I got some fancy education and made friends with the rich kids, I would make connections and be afforded opportunities. But after I saw how intolerant, cruel, and cold those kids were to me, I had no interest in being anything like them.
Cy holds out his hand for Jenson to shake, then makes his way back to me, making sure the door is shut before speaking.
“Take the truck to bay three and reset his audio system. See if that does the trick.” He tosses the key fob at me.
“Like hell, I will,” I argue.
“Don’t test me, boy.”
“Come on, man. You have no idea who he is to me,” I whine like a toddler.
“What? Did he kick you out on your ass after you boned him?”
Ouch. . . but valid. He knows I have a type.
“No. Good guess, though.” I follow him through the side door and into a bay. “You know how Sugar sent me to all those private schools?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that rich asshole out there made my life a living fucking hell all through school. I can’t do this, Prez. I’d be too tempted to snip his brake line.”
Cy stops, turning to me. “Listen. The shop is dead today, and I’d like to make some money, so do whatever you have to do to heal your inner child.” He puts the last part in air quotes. “Upcharge the shit out of him, cut his brake line; I don’t give a fuck. Just fix his damn audio system, get his credit card, and send him packing.”
I’m clearly not going to get out of this, so I roll my eyes and walk my sorry ass out to the truck. Without saying a goddamn word, I get into the truck and start it. While driving it to the bay, I take in the new car smell and relish all the features of this high-end vehicle. I haven’t owned a cage a day in my life, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a nice vehicle.
After parking, I hop out and get to work, if you want to call it that. All I need to do is disconnect the audio component from the power source, wait thirty seconds, and plug it back in. Easy money. But there’s no way I can charge Jenson up the ass for less than a minute of work, so after I unplug it, I seek out Tigger to get the work order sorted.
I find the ginger asshole sitting at the front desk, legs kicked up and a grin on his face as he chats up Jenson. Fucking traitor. He’s been prospecting for the club for over a year now, and so far, he’s had it easy. While we’ve been rebuilding our club after the death of two consecutive presidents, things have been calm. Tame.
