Adria, I swear to God, I'm leaving your ass if you don't hurry up."
Rolling my eyes, I snatch my phone from the bedside table and yank my bedroom door open.
"I'm coming!" I snap, slamming it behind me hard enough to make the house shake. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and start walking down the hallway.
When I step into the living room, I ignore Lee completely. He's leaning against the wall, flicking his keys, scowling like I've just committed a crime. I walk straight past him and head for his truck.
He sighs but follows.
I climb into the passenger seat, slam the door shut, and click on my seatbelt before he's even rounded the front. He gets in silently, starts the truck, and we pull away down the dirt road that leads to town.
A lot's changed between me and Lee since that night I was fifteen.
We never talked about it, but I know he remembers. I do too. It hurt more that we never spoke about it than if he'd just apologized.
Just over two years ago, when I turned eighteen, I finally went to the police station to tell them I'd run away as a child—to see if there was any record of a missing person. Turns out there was.
And more than that—I had a grandmother I never knew.
They contacted her. She flew from LA to meet me.
She's my dad's mother. And I found out that my dad died when my mom was still pregnant with me.
Growing up, I was told he abandoned us. I hated him for it. Knowing the truth shattered something inside me.
The first words she said to me?
"First of all, you never call me 'grandmother.' No one would believe it. You call me Lovey." She looked me over head to toe and sighed. "This won't do. Come, child. We've got a lot to fix."
And just like that, she became mine—and Lee's—fairy godmother.
She'd been widowed years ago. Her husband had been filthy rich, and when he died, he left her more money than she knew what to do with.
When I finally showed her where we'd been living… I thought she'd have a heart attack. But instead of lecturing, she was impressed with how far we'd come on our own.
Within four days, she bought us a patch of land twenty miles out of town and hired an architect to build our dream home.
A one-story glass structure—I may or may not have stolen the design from someone else's house—three bedrooms, three bathrooms, and my favorite part?
A hammock facing the stars.
Lovey helped me get a birth certificate and open a bank account. She even had a friend test me and Lee to see how far behind we were academically. We'd actually surpassed the average—reading, learning, surviving… it taught us more than school ever could.
Lee jumped at the idea of college. Me? Not so much.
All I ever wanted to do was drive. Fix cars. Build them.
One night, Lovey woke me from a deep sleep and sat me down.
"You take after your father more than you'll ever know," she said, lighting one of her thin cigarettes and sipping her martini. "He loved anything with an engine. If not for that tragic accident… he'd have gone pro."
She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"And I'm going to help you."
Now, two years later, I own a mechanic shop in a decent part of town. I built a solid reputation, though at first, Lee had to pretend he owned it.
Men didn't like seeing a woman work under the hood of their luxury cars. And they hated it even more when they found out I owned the place.
That changed after one incident at a coffee shop—some guy made a sexist comment about women not needing to know anything about cars. I snapped. Right there, in front of everyone.
I told the whole shop I owned The Kid Auto Shop.
The next day, the waitress from that coffee shop showed up outside my garage.
African American, eyes sharp as glass, nerves of steel.
She handed me the same coffee I ordered the day before and extended her hand. "Thanks for yesterday. Gave me the guts to quit that damn job."
I shook her hand. "You're welcome."
Then she nodded at the shop. "You hiring?"
That was Ember.
She's been with me ever since.
Sometimes I still wake up expecting to be back in the den. Hungry. Cold. Alone.
Lee says my nightmares are worse now than they were before.
I'm dragged out of my thoughts when Lee says my name.
"Sorry, what?"
"I said, will your bike be ready tonight, or do I need to pick you up again?"
I sigh, eyes on the window. "Yeah. She'll be ready. Don't worry about me—I'll make it home just fine."
I can't hide the bitterness in my tone.
A few nights ago, we had a huge fight. He smashed my bike. Claimed it was an accident. I don't believe him.
He's been driving me everywhere since, like some guilt-ridden taxi driver.
Simon's been fixing it, but he had to finish another job first.
Lee mutters a curse under his breath.
"I said I was sorry, Adria. I'll pay for it."
(With Lovey's money.)
"Can't you just let it go?"
(Like I've had to let go of everything else you've done.)
I don't answer. I'm done arguing.
We pull up outside my shop. I grab my bag and slam the door without saying goodbye.
The tires screech as he speeds off. Childish asshole.
Inside, Ember's on the phone at the desk, rolling her eyes.
"Yes, sir, I understand," she says with forced calm. "But you can't bring in a car without an appointment—and I need the car's details for that."
She pauses.
"Sir… how am I supposed to book you in if I don't know what kind of car it is?"
Another pause.
"Hello?"
She pulls the phone back, stares at it, and hangs up with a dramatic sigh.
"Did you hear that?" she groans. "How do you book a car in without knowing what it is?"
I laugh.
She glares. "It's not funny."
"It's hilarious."
She flips me off and slumps back into her chair. "Keep laughing. I won't show up tomorrow."
"You love me too much."
"Don't bet on it."
I laugh again and head into the back office. She's all talk—Ember would never leave me hanging.
Lovey told me once to be careful with female friends around Lee. I think she sensed what I refused to see. And for a while, yeah, Lee hated Ember. But I put my foot down.
He doesn't get to make me choose anymore.
I shake the memory off and open my laptop. I've fought enough with Lee this week.
❧
"She's ready, Adria."
I look up to see Simon standing in the doorway, covered in oil and grease, wearing his KID Auto Shop overalls.
Greasy machine dream.
Too bad he bats for the other team.
"Thanks, Simon. You're a lifesaver."
He nods. "I'm heading out. But there's a guy out front asking for a booking. I couldn't find Ember."
I check the clock and sigh. "She's gone for the night. I'll take care of it. Go home to Steven."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I got it."
He hesitates but finally nods and leaves.
Rubbing my temples, I sigh. All I want is a burger, a shower, and twelve hours of sleep. Instead, I have one last customer.
I walk to the front room. There's a man outside, back to me. Black coat. Dark hair.
I glance at the security monitors before unlocking the door.
First rule I ever learned: never trust a man. Doesn't matter who. Even Lee sets me on edge now. Something about him feels off lately. And as I get older, I trust people less and less.
I open the door.
"Hey, sorry, we're closed—"
He turns.
I freeze.
Those eyes.
That smile.
"No fucking way," I gasp.
His grin spreads. "Well, what do ya know."
He pulls me into a hug before I can react.
"If it isn't jailbait."
I laugh. "Sam! Oh my God. It's been too long. How are you?"
He's older. Sharper. His black beard is neatly trimmed, hair slicked back, suit pressed. A far cry from the rugged biker I remember.
But something about him… it's harder. Colder.
Sam grew up.
"Six years, huh?" he says. "Time flies."
He glances over me like I did him. I'm different now. Shorter hair. Toned body. Tattoos where there used to be bare skin.
"You look…" he pauses. "You look good, JB."
"You're not bad yourself, Sam," I say, rubbing my arms against the chill.
"I'll take it." He nods toward the shop. "You did good. How many watches did it take?"
That makes me laugh harder than I expected. "None, actually. Long story."
He doesn't ask.
I don't offer.
"You need a booking?" I ask after a beat.
He tucks his hands into his coat pockets, eyes flicking up to my sign. "Yeah. One of my cars is acting up. My usual guy… left town. Everyone said to come here."
He smiles to himself. "He's gonna love that."
I try not to ask.
But patience isn't my thing.
"How is he?"
His smile fades.
"Not great," Sam says. "But I think you might be the answer to my prayers, darling."
I frown. "What do you mean? Is he okay?"
"He's fine… physically. But something happened. He's been acting like a fucking child ever since."
"And I'm supposed to fix that?"
A sly grin crosses Sam's face. "See you soon, JB."
Then he turns and walks away.
"Uh… okay?"
He doesn't look back. Just gets into the back of a sleek black SUV and drives off.
I blink after him, confused.
Back inside, I go through my usual closing routine. I'm still thinking about Sam as I get on my bike and drive home.
Still thinking as I shower.
Still thinking as I brush my teeth.
And as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling?
I can't shake it.
No matter how hard I try—I dream of him.
Of deep blue eyes that have haunted me for six years.