Page 46 of Losers, Part I

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I whirled around, clutching my hand to my heart before it could leap out of my chest. Manson leaned against the door frame, arms folded as he watched me. Oh God, why did he haveto look likethat? All broody and irritated, regarding me through narrowed eyes as he tried to figure out what I was up to. He was wearing a shirt this morning, but the black fabric clinging to his frame didn’t make it any easier not to stare.

“I, um…the dog, she…I was trying to get her…” I waved my hand vaguely in the direction of Jojo, who thumped her tail happily as she lay curled up on Manson’s bed.

“Right,” Manson said. “It was Jojo. I guess you two have decided to get along?”

“I’m just glad she didn’t eat me,” I said. I was suddenlyfartoo aware of the fabric of my dress brushing against my well-spanked backside. It made my skin prickle.

“Her bark is way worse than her bite,” he said, jerking his head toward the hall in an indication that I should follow him. “I don’t think Jojo is capable of biting anybody. Haribo is the one you have to watch out for.”

Following him down the stairs, past the kitchen on my right and the living room to my left, we reached the front porch. The day was warm and humid, but it felt like someone dropped a rock into my stomach as Manson hopped off the porch and trudged across the yard toward the garage.

“Um, I need to go get my stuff…” I said as Manson walked inside, his shoes crunching on glass. God, it looked even worse in daylight. The dents, the broken glass, the ruined paint…I must have looked sick because when he turned around to answer me, he looked alarmed for a moment.

“Are you good?” he said, and I nodded, motioning at the destruction around us.

“It’s just…it looks really…shocking. In daylight.”

He grimaced as he nodded. “Yeah. It’s bad. Which is why you don’t need your stuff yet.” He grabbed a push broom from the corner, holding it out toward me. “You’re going to get to work cleaning up all this glass. Then I’ll take you to pick up your car.”

Grasping the broom’s smooth plastic handle, I sighed. At least it wasn’t another spanking. I got to work, carefully sweeping glass from around the cars and underneath them. Manson watched me for a while, his intent gaze flustering me. It was easier once he finally stepped away, taking the stairs to the upper level. The garage was spacious, and the area at the back seemed to be where they did most of their work. There were all kinds of machines I didn’t know the purpose of, toolboxes, stacks of tires, and a grease pit that an old car was parked atop of. Lucas was in the pit, his forehead creased with concentration as he worked.

He hadn’t even looked at me.

Manson was on the phone upstairs, pacing as he spoke. I only caught snippets of the conversation, enough to put together that he was talking to his auto insurance company. I put my head down and swept a little faster.

By the time I was done, I was sweating through my clothes and my head was pounding with the need for a coffee. Lucas was still ignoring me, but once Manson was off the phone, he came downstairs to check my work.

“Not bad,” he said, inspecting the area around the cars. “You got underneath too?”

I nodded, wiping the sweat off my forehead. He watched me do it, his lips parted as if he had something more to say but had completely forgotten. I glanced behind him and caught Lucas’s eye for a split second before he turned his back to me again.

“All right,” Manson said. “Go get your stuff, I’ll drive you to your car.”

The Bronco was particularly bouncy as Manson drove down the road, the massive tires rumbling over every dip and pothole. He had the radio turned up and the AC blasting, but kept thewindow rolled down so he could hang his arm out in the breeze.

I couldn’t bear to sit there the whole time in silence. The longer I sat, the more I thought about all the perverted things he could do to me now that we were alone and my thighs squeezed together. The long soak I was planning to take in the tub once I got home was going to have to involve my vibrator too.

Surely his “no touching” rule didn’t applytoday. I’d been a good girl for him.

I closed my eyes, mentally scolding myself. He didn’t get to tell me what to do. None of them did.

I glanced over at him out of the corner of my eye. He was different than he’d been in high school. He was far more confident now, his measured speech and careful movements showing an obsessive control over how he presented himself.

“So…when did you start doing the whole mechanic thing?” I said when I couldn’t bear to stay quiet any longer. He sat up a little straighter, as if he’d been deep in thought and I’d snapped him out of it.

“Themechanic thing.” He chuckled. “We’re an auto tuning shop, first and foremost. We build cars for competition, speed, and power; we can bolt on parts, swap an engine, fabricate custom pieces, and advise clients on how to get the best performance out of their vehicle. Once we get a bigger space, and the funds, hopefully we’ll be adding a Dynamometer to the shop too.”

I had no idea what that was, so I smiled and nodded.

He continued, “But uh…it wasn’t exactly a childhood dream. I guess I fell into it naturally, though. When I got this beast…” He patted the wheel affectionately. “It was my way out. Freedom. I could get in a vehicle that was entirely my own and drive away from that fucking house. But as I’m sure you remember, the beast was a piece of shit back then.”

I giggled, memories coming back to me. “Oh, trust me, Iremember. Like that time you were trying to fix it in the school parking lot in the pouringrain?”

“Yeah, that shit happened way too often. But since I didn’t have the money to pay someone to fix it, I had to figure it out myself. So I learned.”

“And you kept it running all this time?” He nodded, and I shook my head in surprise. “That’s really impressive.”

His lips twitched into a smile he tried to hide behind his hand. “Honestly, we never would have been able to start the shop without the money my mom left me. I had no idea she even had anything left, but I guess she managed to keep it hidden from my dad even when she was…” He trailed off. “Anyway, we opened the shop once we moved into the house so we haven’t been here very long. Our first builds were our own cars, so the more we raced and were able to show off what we could do, the more clients we found. We’re only just getting started.” He nodded to himself, his speed slowing as we neared Ellis Road and the bridge. “Once we get out of Wickeston, we’re going to keep getting bigger and better.”


Tags: Harley Laroux Romance