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Yesterday was… Well, I didn’t have words. I wouldn’t have been able to put the past behind me without Greer. Not the whole past, but the part of it that hurt. The thing was, I wasn’t the only one who ended up in pain. Dexen and I weren’t together for that long, not in the grand scheme of things. It was everything back then though. I was completely ensconced in him. Every day when I wasn’t working, every night, every weekend in my free time, it was Dexen and me. It didn’t matter where we were or what we did, we were together. To go from all to nothing wasn’t easy, but I felt so betrayed.
Now… Greer made me see it wasn’t so black and white. Dexen didn’t kill for the sake of doing it. He wanted to save me, and he had. I didn’t want additional details. I knew enough. Looking at him in his living room, he was open to me—to us—and that wasn’t Dexen. He was trying to make me see it wasn’t as easy as breaking his promise to me. He did it because he loved me. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have gotten together with Greer. I wouldn’t be with both of them.
I had to deal with the possibility, at some point, one or both of them would need to fire a gun to save me. I’d be a hypocrite if I said I didn’t have my own guns. But I’d never killed anyone. Living the life of a mafia boss’s son meant I had to watch my own back. The number of times I’d been shot at, fuck, I’d lost count.
Rivals targeted me because of who my dad was. That life wasn’t mine though. I wasn’t the one trafficking guns and drugs. It wasn’t me running shit with a crew of people who were more than happy to do my bidding. That was my old man. All him. Yet I was repeatedly dragged into his hell.
Last night when the three of us were in bed, after another round of blow jobs, Dexen brought up having to kill for me. He said it because he didn’t want something to happen and me to turn tail and leave him again. He wanted to be sure I knew what I was getting myself into. Dexen wasn’t a changed man. He was the same as he always was, just a little more broken and a lot more vulnerable since shit went sideways with us the first time. I understood now. He’d do what he had to. Greer too. When Dexen brought up me having my guns, asking if I would shoot to kill for him or Greer. Yeah, I damn well would. While I didn’t like it back then, I was older and somewhat wiser now. These men meant too much to me to let some criminal take out. Kill or be killed, as much as I fucking hated it.
I made them promise—yes, I knew how bad that was—to only kill when necessary. They agreed. After that lovely talk, we finally drifted off to sleep.
This morning, I woke to Greer in the kitchen making us breakfast. Dexen was stupidly excited about eating the whole egg, which made Greer and I laugh. X fed Dexen the healthy shit when he was around. Some things never changed.
We had to go our separate ways eventually though. Dexen needed to get to the club and also apologize to Hal and Lynn. He told us he wouldn’t drink like that again. Greer had to go home to work on a new security system for Dexen’s home. He deemed it unacceptable and easily hackable, which only pissed Dexen off since he paid a lot for it. Greer was going to set him up with the same system he used on his house. One he designed. He would work with the wiring already in place in Dexen’s home. Greer advised him to switch companies as to who would monitor it. Greer had shit to buy, panels to put in, and whatever the hell else he did. He’d probably go apeshit if he ever entered my apartment. Then again, only a fucking fool would try to break into my place. Plus, I didn’t have shit in there to steal, outside of the overpriced coffee maker.
It was chillier today, the temperature more in line with how it usually was toward the end of October. I was at the shop alone with the bay doors closed to keep the heat in. There were miscellaneous things I could be doing, but I got a call last night from a friend who asked if I could look at his truck. I told him to bring it by today. With Dexen and Greer both doing their own things, this was a way to keep busy doing something I loved.
The bell above the shop’s front door chimed when my friend walked in. We’d formed a bond over him patching up Dominic and Peyton and keeping quiet about what he saw in my shop. He didn’t tell a soul. If he would have, the cops would have been here months ago.
Dr. Corbin Dove was a sweet man. He was slightly shorter than my six-foot-one frame. His light-brown hair was combed to one side, a bit of gray sprinkled around his temples. He was clean-shaven today, showing off the dimple in the center of his chin. He had on glasses that made him look smarter, though anyone who spoke to him about his work knew he was intelligent. There were no wrinkles lining his face. He had brown eyes a few shades darker than his hair. If I had to guess, he was in his early forties.
I first met him when his truck broke down one night near my shop. I had already locked up and was walking home when I saw him with the hood lifted. He had on a pair of khakis and a light-blue button-down, definitely not the norm in this part of the city. He stared at that engine like it was going to start talking and tell him what was wrong. I got it started and working long enough to get it into my shop. It didn’t take me much time to fix it. Luckily, I had the part I needed on hand.
Corbin said he owed me. I let him know it was dangerous telling an Altair he owed them, but he waved me off, not caring about who I was or who I was related to. He said to call if I ever needed his help. So, I did. He was there for Dominic and Peyton, not minding the late hour or what caused their injuries. He was kind to them both. I didn’t think the man had a mean bone in his body.
“Hi, Corbin,” I said, coming out from behind the front counter. “What’s going on with the truck?” He had a ten-year-old GMC Sierra 1500 that was in decent shape.
“I keep having to get it jumped, which isn’t easy when I need to get to work on time. Luckily, I can call a car, if need be.” He waved his phone. Corbin was an ER doctor whose job meant a lot to him.
“Have you checked the battery?”
“It won’t hold a charge. It can get me from point A to B when it’s running but when it’s not…” He shrugged.
“You could have gone to any service center, and they would have swapped it out for you.”
“Yes, but they would have also tried to sell me hundreds of dollars of other services I probably don’t need. I figured I’d ask you if you saw anything else while you were in there. I know you won’t try to cheat me.”
I chuckled. “You’re right, I won’t. I don’t play that game in my shop. Is it running now?”
"No, I shut it off. I didn’t want anyone to take it.”
“Smart move.” I went into the garage and grabbed one of the portable jump starters we had and opened the bay door on the end closest to the waiting room. “I’m going to jump it; you drive it in.”
Corbin looked around the garage. “What if I hit something?”
“Unless the brakes are shot too, you won’t.” The man seemed uncertain of many things, except if you put a medical situation in front of him. Then it was like a switch flipped and he came into who he was meant to be.
We got the truck inside and I closed the bay door to keep us warm. I called Val to see if he could run down the street to the auto parts store for me. I didn’t have a battery in stock for the truck. I wasn’t here much this week and Keith handled the inventory and ordering in my absence, so I wasn’t sure what was on hand until I went to look for it.
While I waited for Val, I started inspecting the truck. I swapped out his air filter. There was a cabin one too, but he said not to worry about that today. I made a mental note it needed to be done. I topped off his fluids and put it up on the lift to do a quick oil change.
“This needs a bit more TLC,” I told him while the oil was draining.
“I know. I’m terrible about it. I get wrapped up in work and then when I’m home, I eat and pass out. I’m pretty much a homebody when I’m not working.”
“A man after my own heart.”
“You? I don’t picture you staying in.”
