Undefeated (Undefeated Series Books 1-4)

by Charity Parkerson

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Hey, Jack, you’ve got a new car back there to start on today.” Jack nodded that she understood and her boss Dusty fell in beside her to go look at it. “Some guy wrapped his Camaro around a tree out on old Arnold Road. It’s in pretty bad shape. So is the driver, for that matter.”

  At the first glimpse of the car, Jack drew in a sharp breath. “Will he live?”

  “Yeah, lucky bastard. Car’s got On-Star. That probably saved his life. Anyways, a real hot blonde came in here earlier to look it over. She said the car is the man’s baby, and she wanted to know if it could be fixed. I told her you were the best there was and if you couldn’t do it then nobody could.”

  “Awww, Dusty that was so nice,” she told him making him blush. She looked over the car, giving it serious consideration. It would take time, but the car had quite a few modifications, proving the owner did indeed love this car. She tapped the hood with her fingers, thinking her schedule over and trying to decide what could be moved around. Coming to a decision, she pushed away from the car. “Call the blonde. Tell her I’ll have her man’s baby up and running like new before they know it.” It was a boast, but Dusty didn’t call her on it, so she let it stand. She stayed with the car for a few more minutes, making mental notes on all the obvious things it was going to need. Dusty wandered off to do his own thing, and her cell phone began to ring. Jumping slightly, she looked around to make sure no one had witnessed her reaction before checking the caller I.D. A shudder went through her body and she considered not answering, but that would only make things worse. It was a lesson she had only had to be taught once.

  A man’s snore woke him, but the moment his eyes opened, he regretted it. Even with the haze of whatever drugs were being pumped into his I.V. there still wasn’t a single inch of his body that didn’t hurt. The light caused a pain to slash through his head and he slammed his eyes closed against it. Another loud snore sounded through the room and Paul eased one eye open to look for the offender. Alyssa was watching him carefully from one chair while Walt was slumped over in another, sleeping soundly.

  “It’s awful isn’t it?” she asked. When he only closed his eyes and groaned, she clarified. “Walt’s snoring; it’s awful.”

  He opened his eyes again, finding it less terrible with each attempt. His throat felt dry and his voice sounded gravelly when he asked, “How long have I been here?”

  “Two days. Do you remember what happened?”

  “There was a deer in the road,” he answered, not missing her shoulders slump at his words. Did she think he had run his car into a tree on purpose? A part of him acknowledged it wasn’t that farfetched.

  “You know I would have come with you to Louisiana. All you had to do was ask. You didn’t need to wreck your car to get me down here.”

  Her words had been teasing but her swollen eyes told him she’d been crying. She had been worried about him. People only worried when they cared. Suddenly Paul felt very ashamed; ashamed that his own self-pity was hurting someone else. He had never meant to let anyone that close again, but when he had met Alyssa, she had seen past the mask he showed the world to the man that was hurting inside. She made him realize how desperately he had missed having a friend. “I’m sorry,” he told her now, holding her eyes so she would understand how much he meant the words. A single tear fell from the corner of her eye as she closed them in relief.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated with more force, but she only began to cry harder. She leaned forward, laying her head on his bed and gulped for air. Lifting one hand, he brushed her tears away. “I hate this place,” she whispered. “Nothing good ever happens in hospitals.”

  Paul swallowed past a lump that was forming in his own throat. Alyssa had good reason to hate hospitals, and it was a hatred they shared. “I know,” he offered lamely.

  “Don’t do this to me again. You are not alone anymore.” After a moment, she added, “Idiot.”

  Paul had been so lost in their conversation he hadn’t noticed that the snores had stopped. As the silence began to penetrate his thoughts, he looked over to find Walt awake and watching them. “Stop making my wife cry,” Walt told him gruffly. It was as much as he was going to get from Walt but he knew it meant he cared too. Shit, now he was going to have to fix his damn life.

  “The hot blonde is back with some guy on crutches,” Dusty said, poking his head around the corner.

  “That must be the owner,” she answered absently as she wiped her hands on her coveralls and moved to meet the new arrivals.

  Jack watched the blonde lady approach and couldn’t help but start a catalogue of her own failings as a woman. While she was barely five foot, only weighed a little over a hundred pounds, and didn’t have a feminine bone in her body, this woman was her polar opposite. She was probably five-nine with curves that Jack felt sure had caused more than one wreck on their own. Jack suddenly felt very inadequate and even more so when she finally looked at the man that was with her. Even bruised and limping around on crutches he was easily the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on. Both his eyes had been blackened, probably from the impact of the airbag, but it only caused the lightness of his gray eyes to stand out in contrast. He stared at her with a look so wicked she felt the need to go straight to mass and confess to any priest who would listen, which was odd since she wasn’t even Catholic. At the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if she licked him. Was random licking a crime? she wondered, briefly distracted from her own thoughts. His button-down shirt opened up, showing just a hint of chiseled chest. She was concentrating so hard on that spot that when he spoke she had to force herself to look back at his face.

  “I’m looking for Jack Swanson,” he told her. When she didn’t respond immediately to his words, Dusty nudged her with his foot and the blonde smothered a laugh.

  She said, “He has that affect on people.” For some unknown reason, that comment jolted her and pissed Jack off a little. She wasn’t most people, and besides, men were scum.

  “I’m Jack Swanson,” she heard herself saying. She was supremely satisfied by the look that passed over his face. He hadn’t expected her to be a woman. She was relieved to find a fault with him.

  He recovered quickly, moving his crutches to one hand while holding out the other for her to shake. “I’m Paul Re’Vone,” he said, flashing a smooth grin. “I’m the owner to the 2010 Camaro that you’re working on.”

  His voice had such a sexy Cajun accent, her knees weakened. It wasn’t a rare thing to hear that in Louisiana, but it was like ambrosia to her coming from this man. Forcing her knees to stiffen, she shook his hand. “Ah, the Rally yellow. That’s always been my favorite. You have no idea how much I envy you your car,” she told him falling back on a topic that had always been a passion for her.

  He shook his head. “I know it seems crazy to try and fix it instead of getting a new one, but I love that car. I’ve spent countless hours perfecting it and I’m not ready to part with it.”

  “Is this a hobby or a trade?” she asked, warming up to the subject.

  “I own my own shop in Tennessee, but I only deal in mechanics, not body work.”

  “Come on back and take a look at it,” she offered. As he limped around the car, she asked, “Have you ever heard of Vehicle Restoration Monitoring?” Not waiting for an answer, she pressed on. “If you give me your e-mail address I’ll send you updates on the progress your car is making, and if you’d like I’ll enclose pictures of the repairs. If at any time you feel like I’m not up to the challenge or am making a mess of things, you can take me to task on it.” She jutted out her chin in defiance, expecting him to reject her for being a woman.

  Instead, he surprised her by waving a dismissive hand in the blonde's direction. “Alyssa said you were the best and I trust her judgment in all things.”

  Jack was two-thirds thrilled that he didn’t seem to care one whit that she was a woman, but she was appalled to realize that the other part of he
r was jealous that it was only because of his girlfriend that he trusted her. Swallowing against her anger she said, “Well, I appreciate your girlfriend's confidence in my abilities and I hope that I’m able to live up to her good opinion.” While she had been talking, another gentleman had moved to join them. He was at least six foot six and his dark skin combined with his sculpted body had her close to swooning. Although, in her opinion, he wasn’t as handsome as Paul and his dark scowl was making her uneasy. At her words he growled, “Like hell,” making Paul chuckle.

  The sound caused Jack to place a hand on her stomach to ease the tightness that had begun to form there. When he turned his laughing eyes her way, she had to stop herself from taking a step back.

  “Alyssa is not my girlfriend,” he explained. “Well she’s a girl and a friend, my best friend actually, but this,” he said, slapping the other guy on the shoulder, he added, “is her husband, Walt. He would kill me if I ever had so much as an impure thought.”

  Walt grumbled something inaudible in response, but Jack had no doubt that while Paul’s words had been made in jest that not only were they true, but Paul respected him for it. Alyssa rolled her eyes before saying, “If everyone is finished swinging their dicks around, let me say I searched the Internet for the best body man in Louisiana before settling on you, so I’m sure my confidence isn’t misplaced.”

  Jack beamed at the woman now that she knew she wasn’t competition. Competition? Where had that thought come from? In no way was she was planning on competing for Paul. Pushing her disturbing thoughts away, she said, “Just the same, I still think we should exchange e-mail addresses to help us keep in touch. I’m not always available if you call, but I check my e-mail several times a day. It might take a while for the car to be finished, since a lot of things that are normally considered specialty order on a car come standard on your car, and since it was pretty much brand new I’m going to have to wait on some parts from the dealer.”

  Paul tapped the leg that was encased in a cast with a rueful grin. “That’s okay. It’s going to be awhile before I’m able to drive again. I’ve got a business to run so I can’t stay here. I have to head back to Tennessee, but Alyssa will bring me back when it comes time to pick the car up.” Jack’s cell phone rang, interrupting him, and she hit "ignore."

  “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling the first blush of anger starting to build.

  Paul eyed her closely for a minute, then said, “I’ll ship you some of the things I have at my shop that I had intended to add to the car.”

  Her cell phone rang once again, interrupting him, and again she apologized while hitting "ignore." Before he could continue, her phone chirped alerting her of an incoming text message, while Dusty yelled, “Jack, Mannie’s on the phone!”

  When Paul had first seen Jack, he’d been shocked to realize that she was a woman. Not that it was unusual for women to work in auto mechanics, but it was unusual for a woman to be named Jack. Her pixie-like form was surprisingly sexy, especially when combined with her jet black hair and light green eyes. Those eyes were now flashing with an anger that made him wince in sympathy for this Mannie person.

  “Excuse me,” she hissed out between clenched teeth before stomping over to snatch up the phone. Her conversation was short and ended with her slamming down the phone, then picking it back up to slam it down it again. She stood staring down at it as if she were daring it to ring again.

  Alyssa whispered, “Oh shit. What‘s this all about?” out of the side of her mouth.

  “A man, definitely a man,” he answered, matching her whisper.

  Walt chimed in. “I agree it’s got to be a man. I still remember that woman outside of Vegas. Do you remember that one, Paul?”

  “Nope,” he lied easily, but he should have known that wouldn’t keep Walt from telling the story.

  Luckily, Alyssa took pity on him. “Walt, now is probably not the time, but I’d love to hear it later.” After a moment’s thought, she added, “It’ll probably keep us entertained on the way back.”

  Paul groaned, but Alyssa smiled unrepentantly.

  When the phone didn’t ring again, Jack seemed to pull herself together by pasting a patently false smile on her lips while walking back over to them.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

  “Think nothing of it, dawlin. I just wanted to let you know that I had more things that

  I had intended to add to the car, before the wreck. Now that it’s already being repaired, I thought I might ship those things to you, and go ahead and get them done. I know it’s going to take more time and money, but what do you say?”

  Her cheeks were still flushed from her earlier encounter, but her professionalism was still in place, making Paul’s respect for her skyrocket. “What kind of things do you want to have done?”

  He really liked this woman. “I bought a customized engine cover that is body colored.”

  Jack bounced on her toes like a child at Christmas. “I can’t wait to see that, and oh once I get it on, I’m definitely sending you a picture of it, because I know you’re not going to want to miss that. What else are you sending me?”

  Her voice sounded so excited, he had to laugh, but it didn’t deter her at all, so he continued. “I’m replacing the dual tips with chrome. I know that they come standard stainless steel, but I prefer the chrome. The door handles are body color now, but I’d like to switch them to chrome as well. I have so many ideas for this car, I could sit here and talk about it all night, but I really need to go. Alyssa has got a lot of fights lined up waiting on her management, and those same fighters are surely missing their trainer as well, so I need to let them get back to it.”

  He watched her struggle against her curiosity. Finally, she gave in, asking, “Fighters?”

  Paul nodded “Yep, Walt is part owner of Smith Brothers Fight Club.”

  She punched him in the arm. “You got to be shitting me.” At his wince, she hissed out a quick apology. “Sorry I got excited.” Then to Walt, she asked, “Are you related to Bryant Smith?” At his nod, she clapped her hands and squealed, “I love him. I have seen all his fights even if I had to pay outrageous amounts of money to see them. This is so exciting.”

  Paul was enjoying watching her excitement, which had transformed her face.

  “Maybe when the car is finished I could pay you to deliver it to me instead of me coming to get it. That way while you’re in Tennessee, I could take you over there to see the club and meet some of the fighters,” Paul offered.

  “Which would include you,” Alyssa added dryly under her breath.

  Paul chose to ignore the comment, instead saying to Jack, “We’re keeping you from your work.”

  The little whore was standing outside with him in broad daylight. Didn’t she realize that God was watching her? Apparently, she was in need of a reminder. He tried calling her cell phone one more time, and watched as she checked her caller I.D. only to hit "ignore." Mannie slung his cell phone to the floorboard in anger while punching the steering wheel.

  He concentrated on taking deep breaths and began to count backwards, the way they’d taught him in that stupid anger management class the court had ordered him to take. When that didn’t work, he punched the steering wheel again, this time drawing blood.

  That was good. He felt better. See, what did those idiots know about anger? With a clearer head, he was able to think. He would wait until nightfall, he decided.

  She would be alone then and wouldn’t be able to avoid him. Adjusting his seat, he settled in for a long wait. No way was he leaving and giving her a chance to sneak past him.

  Jack worked on Paul’s car long past the time she would have normally gone home, but she’d become so absorbed in her work she’d lost track of time. It had been a while since she had felt the thrill of a challenge like the one Paul’s car was bringing her, at least that’s what she kept telling herself. But, a rebellious part of her brain kept whispering that it was actually Paul’s haunted eyes and broad shou
lders that had kept her working late into the night. When she stood, the muscles in her back screamed against the movement and she groaned aloud. Looking around, she blinked owlishly when she realized it was even later than she had first thought. Making her way to the sink, she washed up while trying to avoid her own reflection. She knew what she’d see if she looked too closely. The dark circles under her eyes combined with the weight she’d lost didn’t make for an attractive picture. It was the price of her freedom and she couldn’t regret it.

  Jack exchanged her coveralls for a pair of baggy shorts and t-shirt before heading out. The small loft she was renting was only two streets over, which added with its low price was the reason she had chosen it. The close proximity allowed her to walk to and from work, saving her money on expenses. She was halfway home when a tingling sensation began on the back of her neck, forcing her to pick up her pace. This sixth sense had saved her life many times during her short marriage to Mannie.

  Spotting the alleyway ahead of her, she debated the merits of taking the shortcut home. If she cut through she would be home in half the time but she would also be out from underneath the streetlights and out of public view. Expedience won out since she figured the quicker she got home the faster she’d be behind locked doors. It didn’t take long after stepping off the main path for her to realize that she had made a grave miscalculation.

  If Mannie had not been able to see her moving around inside, he might have started to think she had managed to sneak past him after all. The longer he’d been forced to wait, the more his anger grew. She did this for him. It was inexcusable. By the time she stepped outside, a red haze was glowing over his vision. He followed at a safe distance but he knew she could sense him there. He could practically smell her fear and he felt an answering smile spread across his face, until she turned her head slightly and her hair brushed across her chin. He felt his anger returning to full force. She had only cut her hair because she knew that he liked it long. It was another rebellion that needed to be squashed. As soon as she stepped off the path, engulfed by darkness, he made his move. He tackled her to the ground. She started to scream but he pressed his knees down onto her throat, cutting off the oxygen needed. The look on her face didn’t satisfy him as much as he was expecting. The thought had already begun to creep in that maybe she would do better if only he gave her another chance. Loosening his hold on her wind pipe, she sucked in air. Mannie repositioned their bodies to where it was more of a lover's hold. Staring down at Jacquelyn, he smoothed the awful hair away from her face, waiting for her to catch her breath. Did she not realize how much he loved her? He wouldn’t do these things if she wouldn’t make him have to. She tried to speak but it came out in a rasp. Two tears fell from her eyes and she tried again. Mannie bent his ear close to her lips as she finally managed to get her words out.