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She promptly shakes her head. “There’s no way I’m leaving you out here to deal with those three.” She blasts a glare at the guys.

They grin in response.

“I’m not going to deal with them.” Lie. I’m totally going to fight back, because I have a feeling they might see it as a weakness if I don’t. And I can sense these guys thrive off weakness. “I just need to get the car put back together so we can go get the utilities turned on, track down the landlord, and go look for Dad.”

She wiggles her arm free from my grip. “Then, why do we have to go inside?”

I shrug. “Because I can’t concentrate with you out here.”

She crosses her arms, her brow rising in challenge. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I internally sigh, racking my brain for a better way to get rid of her. “Actually, you know what? Instead of going into the house, can you walk to the gas station a few blocks down and buy a can of tire inflator to fix the tires?”

Yeah, there’s no way a can of tire inflator is going to fix my completely flat tires, but Londyn is clueless when it comes to cars, so she’ll more than likely buy into my bullshit. Then, once she’s gone, I can figure out how to handle this situation. Rationally, hopefully, but more than likely doubtful.

No, messing with my car was their way of declaring neighborly war on my ass and trying to show me who rules around here. But they can go fuck themselves if they think I’m going to back down.

“Fine,” Londyn finally agrees. “But I’m leaving Bailey here.”

My lips part in a protest, but she walks away.

“That’s not up for argument.”

“Yes, Mom,” I call out, shaking my head.

When did she become so bossy? And toward me? I can’t even recall the last time I was bossed around.

Once Payton and her start down the road, I turn to Bailey.

She lifts a brow. “So, what’re you going to do?”

“I’m not sure yet.” I give a sidelong glance at the three guys who sat down in some fold-up chairs that are by the fence.

The oldest of the three kicks his boots up on top of the fence and leans back in the chair with his arms tucked behind his head, his eyes on me, a smirk playing at his lips. The black-haired one doesn’t appear quite as amused as he props his foot up on his knee and pops open a can of beer.

“Don’t mind us. We’re just here to watch the show,” The oldest one calls out, grinning.

“Please continue, sweetheart.” Blaise grins. “We’re getting bored.”

“Sweetheart?” The oldest cocks his head to the side, surveying me. “She doesn’t seem like the sweetheart type.”

“Yeah, but she’s not a baby sort of girl either.” Blaise is all smirks and wickedness, yet underneath the amusement he seems a bit irritated. Why, I haven’t got a damn clue nor a fucking care.

“Still, you can’t call her sweetheart,” the other replies musingly. “It’s unfitting.”

Blaise’s smile is all wickedness. “Then, what do you suggest we call her?”

The older one rubs his jawline. “How about princess?”

Blaise shakes his head. “Nah, that doesn’t seem to fit her either.”

“What’s her name?” the one who’s barely spoken asks Blaise.

“I have no idea.” Blaise looks at me expectantly.

I flip him the middle finger. “Go fuck yourself.”

Blaise chuckles. “We really need to start working on your nicknames for me, sweetheart.” He slants forward, resting his hands on his knees. “I get it. You’re shy and probably a little flustered. That’s completely understandable.” He winks. “We have that effect on people.”

When I give him a blank stare, his smile enlarges.

“All right, since I can tell you’re still a little reluctant, I’ll go first.” He presses his hand to his chest. “I’m Blaise. And this is Jaxon, my brother.” He gestures at the black-haired one with the crazy blue eyes.

Jaxon does nothing but keep his gaze fixed on me as he takes a swig of his beer.

“He’s a man of few words,” Blaise explains, then motions at the oldest of the three, the one with all the tattoos and piercings. “And this is Alex, my other brother.

“But since I’m the mechanic and the one you’re going to have to convince to fix your car, you should probably come up with a better name to call me, like maybe sexy beast or master—something along those lines.” Alex smirks amusedly. “Although, I think we already established she probably isn’t enticing enough for me.”

I’ve grown quiet, stunned into shock. Sure, I’ve had to deal with jerks before, but these three are beyond the realms of normal asshatery. In fact, they’re so asshole-ish, I think they need their very own dickhead term. Like dick-prick-dumb-fuckers-stupid-fucking-asshole-shits!

I’m about to declare their nickname to the entire neighborhood when Bailey steps up beside me.

“We need to shut them the hell up,” she growls with her hands balled into fists.

She’s ready for a fight, and so am I, but not a physical one. No, as tough as I can be, I’m not stupid enough to believe Bailey and I could take these guys on. Plus, I don’t want her fighting.

I crack my knuckles against the sides of my legs. “Go get my toolbox. It’s in the living room beside my box of clothes.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Grimacing, she strides off toward the front door of the house. Neither of the guys even glance at her, too fixated on trying to make me squirm under their mocking gazes.

Lifting my chin, I square my shoulders and march to the back of the trunk. After securing my hair in a messy bun, I pull out a folded-up blanket, spread it out on the ground, and begin taking the pieces of the carburetor out.

“What’s she doing?” Alex asks, his tone laced with confusion, yet his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“I’m not sure.” Blaise eyes me over with a crinkle at his brows. “But she’s definitely trying to do something.”

“I think she’s going to try to put it back together,” Jaxon remarks, then takes another swig of beer.

While I’m betting he’s about my age and is drinking illegally, I’m not that surprised he’s doing it out in the open. Sadly, most everyone around here more than likely doesn’t care. It’s been the same way in a lot of neighborhoods we’ve lived in.

Once I get the pieces all set up, Bailey has returned with my tools. She doesn’t question what I’m doing, only grins as she puts two and two together.

Kneeling on the blanket, I pull out a set of screwdrivers, wrenches, and pliers. Then I get to work, moving as quickly as I can, but not so fast that I mess up. As the sun starts to rise higher over the hills, sweat begins to bead on my skin. Well, at least I try to blame the sweating on the heat. Really, it may have something to do with having an audience. A very freakin’ annoying audience.

They watch me the entire time I work, whispering amongst each other and occasionally talking loud enough for me to hear their insults. Doesn’t really matter. In the end, I have the final say after I get the carburetor put back together, attach it to the engine, and then reinstall the battery. Then, just for an added emphasis on how badass I am, I slide into the driver’s seat and twist the key. The engine grumbles to life, just like I knew it would—I never second-guess my work when it comes to cars.

Wiping my greasy hands onto the side of my shorts, I turn the car off, hop out, and Bailey and I fist bump. Then I turn to the guys, cross my arms, and smile sweetly.

“Thanks for taking that apart for me. I’ve been meaning to see if I can break my record time of putting it back together.”

Blaise and Alex trade an indecipherable look, then Blaise faces me, his lips parting.

I hold up my hand. “Nope, sweetheart, you had your turn, and now it’s mine.” I step toward him. “I don’t know what sort of people you’re used to dealing with, but I’m not going to let you walk all over me or my sisters, so back the

hell off, or you’re going to regret it.”

Blaise rises from his chair. “Is that a threat?”

“Yep. And here’s another.” I step closer to the fence, so close I can see the muscles in Blaise’s jaw pulsating. “Stay away from me and my sisters, or you’re going to regret it.”

He folds his lean arms across his chest and slips his tongue out to wet his lips, the glint of a metal piercing reflecting in the sunlight. Then he opens and flexes his hands while grinding his teeth, his dark gaze boring into me.

“Don’t,” Jaxon warns his brother. “We’re already on thin ice as it is.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Blaise says while staring at me.

Holding my gaze for a slamming heartbeat longer, he tears his eyes off me and strides toward the house. “See you around, Hadley,” he calls over his shoulder.

What the hell? How did he learn my name? And why did he pretend earlier that he didn’t know it? Or maybe he heard one of my sisters call me it.

Great. I don’t want him knowing my name. I don’t want him knowing anything about me or my sisters.

Alex jogs after Blaise, catching up with him on the front porch and with a heavy sigh, Jaxon pushes to his feet and walks away.

Once they’re gone, I twist around to face Bailey. “Well, that was intense.”

“Super intense.” She looks over at their house then back at me. “Dude, I have a bad feeling about those guys. Like they’re going to try to get you back for threatening them.”

I know that, and I’m worried that I just might have poked a sleeping badger. Not wanting to freak her out, though, I put on my fake smile.

“Everything’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’re all bark and no bite.”

She gives a pressing glance at my car. “Yeah, that’s why you have four flat tires and just spent the last half hour putting your car back together.”

I dismiss her with a wave of my hand. “It’s just a car. No biggie.”

No biggie, Hadley. It’s our only source of transportation at the moment.

But I keep my calm face on, faking it like I often do.

“No biggie?” Bailey shakes her head incredulously. “We currently have no place to live, no power, no food, and now we don’t have a vehicle. We’re seriously fucked up the ass.”

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