Chapter 7: The Devil’s Reward: Chapter 6

“Why do we have to go to the stupid garage?” Macy gripes as we make our way down the sidewalk towards The Devil’s Garage. I have to bite my tongue not to snap at her. Macy’s been short tempered all morning, and it seems she’s going to carry her attitude the rest of the day. Lord, help me.

I call on every ounce of patience I can muster and answer calmly, “Because the car was due for an inspection today. If it’s not inspected, Mommy can’t drive it, and that means you can’t go to school or to camp this summer.”

Her little lip pokes out in a pout, hating that I’ve made sense and poked a hole in her sassy argument. I swear, I’m not going to survive the teenage years. Maybe by then I’ll have enough saved to afford some decent therapy. I’m definitely going to need it. My daughter is strong willed. And by strong willed, I mean, sassy, stubborn as a goat, and prone to driving me crazy. She’s also far too smart, which means she realizes that I’ve either stretched the truth, tried to distract her, or just not answered far too fast.

She takes after her aunt Peyton, my older sister.

“Can we get pizza after we pick up the car?” Macy asks, giving me a sly glance.

I fight back a sigh. It’s a daily argument. Between pizza and chicken nuggets, those are the only food she chooses. Unluckily for her, it’s not her choice, so she has to deal with the food I make, including the vegetables and fruits that she constantly says she hates, but scarfs down like they’re her last meal.

“We’ll see,” I say noncommittally. With any luck, maybe she’ll forget about it by the time we head home.

Thankfully, we’re close to the garage, and that means we’re that much closer to getting home. It’s been a damn good day, but I’m ready to put my feet up and relax. Macy got her homework done, so she’ll be in her room playing with her dolls and action figures for a few hours before bedtime, while I curl up on the couch and finally start that book I bought the other day. A luxury I rarely get, so I plan on enjoying it as much as possible tonight.

“Is this the place, Mommy?” Macy asks as we finally reach the garage’s lot.

“Yep, this is the place,” I tell her. The building is quite large, with four bays, and a separate office area that has quite a few large windows, showing the open interior where a large motorcycle is on display. The cool air hits us as we walk inside, and I take in the spacious room with a large, long counter and an equally spacious waiting area that has nice leather couches and a coffee area just beside a large TV. Off to the side of that is a vending machine, and I don’t miss the way Macy’s eyes immediately land on it. “No,” I tell her firmly. “You’ll ruin your dinner.”

She gives me a mutinous glare, but quickly loses it when she sees the warning look on my face. She knows her chances for pizza are significantly lower if she badgers or ignores me.

I look up and see a woman sitting behind the desk, with a beaming smile on her face. Her caramel eyes light up when she makes eye contact with Macy. I’d put her in her late forties or early fifties. Her hair is a pretty dark brown, and she’s wearing a shirt that matches the mural on the wall. “Well, hello, little miss. Are you here to pick up your limo today?” she asks Macy.

Macy giggles. “No!” she grins. “We’re here to pick up my Mommy’s car. I can’t drive yet.”

“My mistake,” the woman says with a dramatic wave of her hand. She winks at me, making me smile. “And what is your name, honey?” she asks me.

“I’m Quinn Holt,” I tell her. “My car is in for an inspection.”

She does some tapping on the computer in front of her, and she gives a brisk nod of her head. “Yep, it’s in the bay now. They’re running a few minutes behind, but it shouldn’t be more than about ten minutes. You’re welcome to help yourself to some coffee and relax if you like.”

“I want to sit on the couch,” Macy tells me, and I nod. She skips off and I watch as she scoots her butt up on the couch and looks up at the TV expectantly.

Behind the counter, the woman picks up a remote and changes the channel to a kids’ show. I smile at her gratefully. She grins at me. “We have some kids that come in here with their parents, so I always keep that channel at the ready just in case,” she tells me.

“That’s a good plan. If they’re anything like Macy, they get sucked into it for at least a bit.”

“I’m Rose, honey,” she introduces herself, holding out her hand for me to shake.

“Nice to meet you.”

Before we can fall into idle chit chat, a voice hollers out, “Woman, I’m going to spank your ass red!”

My mouth falls open in shock, and I glance quickly over at Macy to make sure she hasn’t heard. Thankfully, she’s engrossed in her show and isn’t paying any mind to the commotion.

Rose sighs. “I’m sorry, Quinn. That would be my idiot son and his girlfriend arguing again. Let me let them know to keep it down.” Without another word, she gets up and walks calmly towards a large metal door at the end of the length of the counter and out into the bay. I don’t know what’s said, but she’s back quickly and smiling at me. “Sorry, honey, my future daughter-in-law isn’t supposed to be overdoing it, and she likes to test my son’s limits. They’ll keep it down.”

I blink at her. “Uh, okay,” I say awkwardly. I glance at the door, and I can’t stop myself from asking, “Uh, does that happen a lot?” Then I blush at how ridiculous that question is. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. That was a stupid question,” I rush out to say.

“No such thing as a stupid question, honey,” Rose assures me. “And I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t happen occasionally, but normally it comes from me and my man, not those two.” She winks at me, and I just stare at her. “Honey, trust me, there is nothing better than your man slapping your ass a few times in the middle of things,” she tells me conspiratorially, thankfully lowering her voice enough not to be overheard.

Oh my God, I don’t know what to say. I mean, Bobby and I were never into that kind of thing. Our sex life was as vanilla as it came. I flush and give an awkward shrug. “I, ah, I’m single, so I wouldn’t know,” I reply.

She waves that away. “You don’t need a relationship to have a good time, honey. Trust me, it’s worth it.”

“I, ah, I’ll take your word for it.” I mean, what else can I say? Sure, just let me get right on that? If my sister, or hell, my parents, were here, they would already have started a long drawn out conversation about it. When it comes to confidence, they have it in spades. Not to mention, no subject is off limits.

“Mom, don’t be scaring away our customers,” a man says, making me turn my head to see a handsome man walking out of the garage area, a resigned smile on his face. He’s six-two, and those bright blue eyes are striking. The name on his stained coveralls calls him Torque. I immediately feel nervous and silently curse myself. God, why can’t I be normal? Why do I suddenly get so shy around people?

Wait, this is Rose’s son? Wow, there are some good genes in this family.

Rose snorts. “You make it sound like I’m the one who just threatened bodily harm to my girlfriend’s behind,” she drawls, giving him a pointed glare.

Torque scowls. “I wouldn’t have to if she would just take it easy,” he gripes. “You probably told her to do that shit to get back at me for something.”

“Now why would I do that?” Rose demands, feigning shock.

My head snaps back and forth as I follow their volley, wide eyed and captivated. It’s like my own personal show.

“Lord only knows with you,” Torque groans. He looks at me. “Sorry, it’s been a busy day. Your car is done and they’ll be bringing it around in a couple of minutes. Everything passed, no problems. Your brake pads are getting a bit worn, but you still have life left in them. We cleaned them up and they should give you a few more months of use before they need to be replaced.”

“That’s great,” I say in relief. “Can I settle up now?”

“Sure thing, honey,” Rose says with a beaming smile. Vaguely, I hear the roar of a motorcycle, the vibrations moving through the air and through me as I pay my bill. I glance over at Macy quickly to see that she’s still engrossed in the TV. Rose chats with me as I finish paying and she gets my signature on a few things.

She’s excellent at keeping me engaged without being too pushy or nosey. It’s like she knows just how far to go, and what lines not to cross. I appreciate it, especially since she and I don’t know each other, and I’m always careful of what I share about myself. After everything with Bobby, I learned the hard way that people knowing too much can use it as a weapon.

No, this isn’t the place to think about that, I scold myself.

“Alright, honey, you’re all set,” Rose says cheerfully.

“Thanks so much.” I put my wallet away and turn, then stop when I see Macy by the vending machine, a man standing beside her. My guard flies up immediately, and I take a step forward. I never even heard him come in, but I force myself not to panic. From the cunning look on Macy’s face, she’s after something, and the man is wearing a cut that looks very similar to the mural on the wall. Except, instead of a wrench, it has a sword in the middle.

Maybe he works here?

I put him at six feet, with short, dark brown, almost black hair. His shoulders are wide, and his arms are encased in a dark t-shirt, showing off thick biceps that are covered in tattoos. His back tapers down to slim hips, and thick, powerful thighs covered in dark denim. Not to mention his ass is nicely curved and firm. I might not be looking for a man, but I can appreciate a fine male form. Though I wish he wasn’t so close to my daughter.

I head for them, and stop when I hear Macy say, “The machine took my money, Mister, and wouldn’t give me my chips. I’m not tall enough to hit the button to get my money back. Can you help me?” She even bats her lashes at him coyly. Where the hell did she learn that?

I narrow my eyes. I never gave Macy any money, so either she figured out how to pick-pocket or she’s taking this man for a ride. Also, the button she’s speaking of is below the coin slot, and she can definitely reach both. Before I can open my mouth to scold her, the man chuckles and drawls, “It did, huh? You know, I’ve had a hard time with this machine myself. How about I try it?” Then he steps forward, pushing a few coins from his pocket into the machine and punching in the number for some plain chips. He takes the chips out of the slot and hands them her way. “I don’t think it’s going to give your money back, gorgeous. So how about you have these?”

“Macy,” I say sharply, moving closer and giving her a hard look. She takes the chips from the man quickly and thrusts them behind her back.

“Hi, Mommy,” she says brightly, beaming at me. “This is my new friend, ah…” She stops and whispers loudly, “What’s your name?”

Now that I’m looking at him straight on, I can see that he’s even more good looking from the front. He’s got dark eyes, a slightly crooked smile, and a scar on his jaw. None of which detract from his attractiveness, especially when his eyes are bright with amusement and his lips are pulled back in a grin. “Shadow,” he supplies in a mock whisper.

“This is my friend, Shadow,” Macy repeats. “He’s nice. You should be nice to him, Mommy. Maybe he’ll think you’re pretty and take you out on a date like Grandma wants.”

My face flushes with embarrassment when he glances my way, but I refuse to meet his eyes. That’s a guaranteed way to make me stammer and stutter. Instead, I focus on my daughter. “And what do you have behind your back, Macy?” I ask.

She blinks, and I can see the gears turning in her mind, deciding whether to lie, and finding a way to spin this to her benefit. “Oh, uh, my new friend got me some,” she answers cheerfully, pulling them from behind her back and giving me a big smile. “He’s a really good friend.”

“Uh huh.” I narrow my eyes at her. “How about we try this again, Macy Mae. I heard you conning him into buying those for you. What have I told you about asking strangers for things, and lying to get them?”

Macy gives me an irritated look. “Grandpa says that I’m learning important life lessons. To keep the boys on their toes.”

That sounds like something my father would say, but not something Macy can really understand at this age. “Well, Grandpa didn’t mean conning strangers out of their money, Macy,” I sigh. I look at the man, Shadow. “I’m so sorry. Let me reimburse you for the chips.” I reach for my purse, but he shakes his head.

“No need, I’m good.” He looks at Macy and winks. “I think you’ve got a little heartbreaking grifter on your hands.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter. Suddenly his name clicks for me. I look at him and ask, “Are you the same Shadow I talked to earlier on the phone, that runs Devil’s Security?” His gaze sharpens at my question. “I’m Quinn Holt, the social worker at the VA clinic.”

My name clicks almost instantly, and he nods. “I am. Nice to meet you in person, Ms. Holt,” he says politely, shaking my hand. The heat of his hand makes me blush again, and I have to pull it away quickly before it can get clammy. “And thanks again for sending Crypt my way.”

“Oh, ah, you’re welcome.” I give him a small smile before turning to my daughter, “It’s time to go, Macy. Thank Mr. Shadow for the chips and then hand them over. You’re not having them before your supper.”

She pouts and reluctantly hands them over. I can see mutiny in her eyes, but she quickly thinks better of making a scene and instead says to Shadow, “Thank you, Mr. Shadow.”

“You’re welcome, gorgeous,” he says with a smile. I take Macy’s hand and give him a small smile and nod before I head for the door. Just before we reach it, he stops me by saying my name. I turn and he says, “If you ever need to bail that sweet little con artist of yours out of jail, let me know. I have a bail fund set aside already, and I’d be happy to lend some.”

When he winks at me, I can only stare at him, even when he heads to the counter. I get my wits about me and head out the door, but the question swirling around in my head is: why does he need a bail fund?