Wrenched_A Small Town Mechanic Romance

by Kara Hart

  “Will you be cool with me again? Because honestly, this is bullshit,” he says.

  “I can’t give you any definite answers,” I tell him. “I feel weird about the Julia thing, but you’re right. I’ll get over it eventually and I do realize that it’s a brother thing. But I need to know, Soren. Are you involved in some bad shit?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” he says. “And if that makes you want to leave me, I’ll understand. But it’s not my fault. None of this is my fault.”

  “Then explain it to me,” I tell him, though I’m scared shitless. So he is involved in some bad shit. This is exactly what I was afraid of.

  “I met a family friend named Michael. We opened up a shop in Buffalo, in the rough area. We were dumb, naïve even. We thought it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. We were wrong,” he says. “Some guys called The Good Guys came in demanding parts and fixes. They said we owed it to them for being in their neighborhood without asking. What was I supposed to do? Say no? They kill people, Emma.”

  “The Good Guys? They sound like idiots. They can’t even come up with a hard name,” I say.

  “They’re a lot tougher than they sound,” he says in a low, deep voice. “They’re known for some really bad shit, Emma. Stuff I won’t go into. So, yeah, I gave them some deals and so did Michael. It was just what had to happen. Eventually, they knew they could take advantage. They wanted to buy in the company. We wouldn’t have it so they retaliated. They came in with guns blazing. I was lucky. I got out when they were searching the other garage. But I held my friend in my arms and I saw him pass right before my very eyes. I can’t shake it now. It haunts me.”

  “So you came back home,” I whisper. “But now what?”

  “Now, I wait. I hide and I sit tight. That was the plan, anyway,” he sighs. “Then I met you.”

  “Will they… will they come here?” I ask him, body turning numb. I start to shake, but not out of fear. The shaking comes from my body not being able to handle what I’m hearing. Some people are after him and they want him dead. “Will they come after me too?”

  “I don’t know,” he says. “All I can do is hope and try to protect everyone I hold dear.”

  “You could fail, Soren. There are more of them than there are of you,” I say.

  “I won’t fail you,” he says.

  “How can you even say that?” I ask him. “How can you sit there and pretend that everything will be okay when you know damn well that it’s not okay? This is fucked, Soren! This is so hopelessly fucked.”

  “You know, a month ago I would have said you were probably right,” he says. “But I’m not that man anymore. It used to be that everything I touched turned to shit. Not anymore. I’m making sure that only good things happen from here on out. Things may get hard, but I’m searching for stability. If they come, they’ll meet their maker.”

  I just sit there, staring into the void. “I’m scared, Soren,” I say. It’s the only truth I know right now. “I’m really fucking scared now.”

  He wraps his solid arms around me and holds me close to him. “I know you are,” he says. “But I promise I’ll protect you. You’re the purest, most good thing that’s ever come to me. I can’t let you down. The stakes are too high now.”

  But even in the comforts of someone like him, I find myself still worrying.

  Soren

  “You want to know what’s happening next?” A man’s cold voice on the phone. It’s groggy and old. Tired, even. I don’t know why I’m calling him. This is dangerous and I’ve just escalated the level up to eleven.

  “Just tell me one thing,” I say. “Why are you willing to help me?”

  “You idiot,” he says, coughing. “I’m an old man. Can’t you hear my voice?”

  “What does that have to do with helping me?” I ask him.

  “I worked hard for what I wanted. All my goddamn life. I built a family business back in ’82. I started the place with my wife,” he says. “Then The Good Boys showed up. They demanded things. I wouldn’t have it. This was my shop, dammit. Not theirs. I’ll get to the point. They shot my wife. They killed her in front of me. Now, I’ve dedicated my life to hunting them down, one by one.”

  “Why should I trust you? How do I know you’re not one of them?” I ask him.

  “You have to have faith,” he says. “Meet me at this bar. I’m there every day. It’s where I map everything out. I’ll help you.” He hangs up the phone.

  “Fuck,” I whisper.

  I waste no time with waiting for the inevitable. My chance at honeymoon happiness has currently been put on hold, due to the looming threat of the worst gang ever to inhabit Buffalo. The whole thing is ridiculous. The notion that they’re going to come out, all the way from Buffalo, just to find me when they already have my shop is insane, but I still have to be on my guard. Plus, I want my fucking shop back and I swore an oath to myself that they’d pay for what they did to Michael.

  I grit my teeth and stare into the forest. I imagine an unshakeable beast lurking behind the trees. It’s so fucking big that a tank couldn’t even take it down. But here I am, staring straight at it. I don’t have any fear left in my body. The only thing I feel is anger and indignation. And I have a desire for a real future, for once in my life. That desire will carry me further than anything. Emma will give me the confidence to face whoever comes in my way.

  She’s scared, but I won’t let her down. That’s why I’m going back to Buffalo. That’s why I’m in a goddamn airplane with Gabe, landing right in the heart of the enemy. Yeah. Emma’s going to kill me.

  “Emma’s going to kill you,” Gabe laughs as we make our way into town. All we have are the clothes on our back. All we need is our fists. At least, that’s what we’re hoping.

  “No shit,” I laugh. “I left her a good enough note, I think.”

  “I’m sure you did,” he laughs.

  “What? Don’t believe me? I’m a changed man. I’m poetic now,” I laugh with him.

  “Sure you are, buddy,” he says. “So, look, we shouldn’t waste any time here. We have to find them and go.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I say. “Just one question. What are we going to do when we actually find him and he’s with them? Talk them into backing down? It doesn’t seem like too great a plan.”

  “You know the blocks they hustle on, right? If the bar was there, which it isn’t,” he says. “Then we’d know. Anyway, I don’t think you’re right on this. I think this guy is telling the truth.”

  “They’ll shove a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger until your lyin’ dead on the concrete,” I tell him.

  “I’m not naïve,” he says. “Trust me. I’m a fighter. They’ll recognize me and back the fuck off.”

  “Cocky prick,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Yeah, well. I’m the cocky prick who’s going to help save your ass,” he says, putting his hand out. I give him some skin and smile.

  “I’m thankful for you, brother,” I tell him. “You’re doing me a lot of good right now. I feel like my life is getting back on track. It’s like I can finally breathe easy.”

  “It’s no trouble at all,” he says. “Just don’t get too calm and easy about things too fast. You gotta always be on your guard, kid.”

  Lame. Is he trying to school me, now that we’re good again? “You may be my older brother, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to listen to your lessons,” I say. He gives me a grimace and shrugs. “That being said, I’ll obviously stay on my guard. It feels fucking weird to be back here.”

  “I bet. I can’t believe you came out here. Buffalo of all places. I guess it has its ups,” he says.

  “Sure. Only, I never really saw any of those for too long,” I laugh. “You know me. Something always comes up right when things are going well.”

  “Shit happens,” he sighs.

  Yeah, shit happens. Sometimes your business gets overrun with working class thugs and sometimes your business partner and best friend gets killed right
next to you. Sure, things happen, but not these kinds of things. Not to most people. Most people get into fender benders. They lose a mortgage maybe. That kind of shit.

  “The Payne family bears a curse, but it’s time it comes undone,” I mutter.

  “Whatever you say, man,” he laughs.

  We grab a hotel for the night and say very little to each other. A twelve-pack later and we’re smiling in the comfort of our room. Memories. They always flood back in the weirdest ways.

  “Hey, remember when we set up that boxing ring in Harry’s backyard?” Gabe laughs hysterically.

  “Holy shit, I forgot about that!” I exclaim. “You nearly broke the guy’s arm!”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have stepped on his wrist if he didn’t try cheap-shotting me in the balls,” he says. “That bastard was always looking for the easy way out.”

  “Yeah, well guess what?” I ask him.

  “What? Is it going to piss me off?” he asks.

  “Probably,” I say, sipping on my sixth beer. We need to get more or we’re going to pass out too soon. I guess that’s sort of the point. Tomorrow is the day, after all. “Harry is Emma’s boss.”

  “At the publishing firm?” he asks. I nod. “Shit, she’s fucked if she’s dating you, man. He hates our guts.”

  “Yeah, but I never understood why. We were always good to him,” I say. “We were best friends. We hung out constantly.”

  “Are you kidding? We tormented the guy. Remember when we stuck his head down the toilet for socking me in the arm? We were ruthless,” he says.

  “Yeah, well, he deserved it. Didn’t he? You don’t sock my brother in the arm,” I say, raising a fist.

  We both laugh, but it begins to die down. “Good times, man,” he says, rocking back in his chair.

  After some silence and some more drinking, everything is sort of quiet in the room. Outside, you can hear the rumbling of car engines, some faint laughter, and every now and then a loud bang from the city. I used to love the sounds of this city. It quickly became my home. It’s funny how something so memorable and comforting can turn into something so unfamiliar and distant.

  “So, is everything good with you and Julia?” I ask him.

  He looks at me like I’m crazy for even asking. He makes a little motion with his neck and cracks it to each side. “They’re good,” he nods. “We wanted kids, but I’m not sure that’s going to happen. Julia’s having a hard time with it.”

  “I’m sorry, man,” I sigh. “That must be hard.”

  “It’s fine. It’s life, anyway. Shit happens, right? Anyway, she’s taking it harder than I am. She’s always dreamt of having her own children and now she might not get any,” he says. “She kind of puts it all on me, which is fine. I’m strong enough. Eventually, though, things will right themselves. They always do.”

  “You’ve always had a good philosophy,” I say.

  “Yeah, well. What’re you going to do? Wallow in despair?” he laughs. Yes, actually. Some of us do that sometimes. “So, this Emma girl… you like her a lot?”

  “Would I be in this city, risking my life and yours if I didn’t?” I ask him. “She’s the best thing to ever happen to me, to be honest.”

  “So, you love her?” his eyebrows raise and I just want to slap his stupid face for asking the question.

  “No,” I immediately say. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe. No. We’ll see.”

  He laughs and sets his empty bottle down. “That’s a lot of answers, but I’m sure you’ll know eventually. You know pretty damn fast,” he says. “She’s a good one. That’s for sure. Whatever you do, stick by her as much as you can. Give her everything you can, even when you have nothing left to give. Always find a reason to hold on. Hear me?”

  More lectures. Great. “I hear you,” I say.

  “I think I’m going to hit the hay. You tired?” he asks.

  “Yeah, a little,” I say. “But I think I’m going to stay up for a bit and gather my thoughts.”

  “Alright then,” he nods. “Just stay safe and out of trouble. Be sure to rest soon. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. You’re going to need all the energy you can get.”

  “Don’t worry,” I smile. “I’m good.”

  “Goodnight, brother,” he says, crawling into bed. He turns off the lights.

  “Night,” I reply.

  I walk outside and pull out a cigarette that I have left over from Emma’s. I kneel down below my door handle and rest my head against the wood paneling. The yellow light hangs above my head like a halo, but I sure as fuck ain’t no angel. “Fuck,” I sigh and light my cigarette.

  Nothing ever works out how you think it will. I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow. Whether we get killed or not is up in the air. Am I prepared? Hell yeah, I am. It’s the only thing I’ve been waiting to finish.

  I close my eyes and feel the cool burn of the cigarette. Smoke comes billowing out of my nose. I think of her smile. She’s got the cutest cupid’s bow in the world. It’s that arch of the lip and it does me in every time. The slope of her nose, the curve of her thigh, the hop in her walk, and the pitch of her laughter. These are all the things I’m fighting for. And If I have to die for this to end, so be it. At least she wouldn’t get hurt. At least she’d be free of this bullshit.

  I’m not dying without a fight. Hell no. Because I want to feel her kiss again. I want to feel her ass pressed against my face. I want her to back her ass up, against the crotch of my pants, and pump it with no hands necessary. I want to feel the smooth skin against me and I want to hear my balls smack her backside. Most of all, I want to cum with her as we hold each other, as close as we can be. I want to really feel it as we become one.

  Emma. I’m coming home. Don’t you fucking worry.

  Emma

  I’m worried beyond belief.

  Let’s take this a step back or two. I wake up, smiling, as I always do. I brush my teeth, get a glass of water and turn on the coffee machine. I stretch and look out of my window, down at the house on the edge, right where Soren is. Well, where he should be. But something is different about today. Something begs me to step out onto my porch.

  And there it is.

  Posted on my door is a note.

  “Emma, please know that you’re everything to me. Know that wherever I roam, the feelings you give me are trapped in my heart forever. Your scent, your touch, those looks you give me… I can’t be without you. That’s why I’ve left to Buffalo.”

  I stop reading for a second and nearly fall to the floor. “No,” I whisper. “Goddamn you, Soren!” I almost let myself cry, but I hold back every tear inside my head. I will not let him do this to me. He can’t make me cry. I keep reading, hoping for some sort of silver lining.

  “I can’t let them hurt you. I won’t let them hurt you. Because if they took you from me, I’d be destroyed forever. I’d rather die than be without you. I know I sound crazy. I know you probably don’t understand. Most likely, you’re holding back those tears and turning them into an inextinguishable, fiery rage. I don’t blame you. I’ve been there. But I want to change everything for the better. I need to face what I somehow managed to create. I need to right what’s happened. I’ll be back soon. I promise. Love, Soren.”

  My heart feels cold, as if it has turned to ice. I think about him and what I might say if he was here. “You asshole!” I’d scream. “You piece of shit! You don’t love me. You only care about your stupid revenge.” But words don’t mean anything, especially when you can’t say them to anybody.

  He’s going to get himself killed. That’s what I’m the most worried about. And there he is, writing his little notes, acting like the fucking hero of the world, but what about me and my feelings? Doesn’t he understand that I’m also worried about him? He’s worried about me getting killed, but he doesn’t think about the fact that he’s the fucking target. They don’t even know who I am.

  That’s why I was scared. I wasn’t scared about myself. I was scared about us. I was s
o fucking worried that something might split us up, but I should have known what he’d do. I should have known that he’d be as selfish as he always is, not to ask my thoughts on the matter.

  It’s like I don’t matter to him at all. Sure, I offer him something. I offer him the best sex of his life. I offer him extreme comfort and maybe some happiness. But at the end of the day, is he really listening to me? Is he weighing my thoughts on things before coming up with an answer? No. It’s pretty fucking clear too.

  So, when Harry calls me and invites me to the office, I go. He says he has some ‘valuable information on some new clients.’ I mean, great. Why not? Plus, he wants me to get more situated into my own office and catch up. He probably wants to pry into me and Soren some more, but that’s out of the question. No, for now, I just want to dive into work.

  But work isn’t the same as love. It can’t offer you the same kinds of avenues. It can’t even keep your mind off him. Dammit, Emma. Why do you have to be so weak? Why do you let him crawl all over you?

  “So you’re good on these read-throughs? I’ll need them ASAP on day one,” he says. “That is, if you can handle it, and I know you can handle it.”

  “I can handle it,” I lie. Fuck. I can’t handle anything right now. Who am I kidding? Part of me wants to just call up my mom and go back home to Los Angeles. I could find a job out there. Why not? I could be a waitress on Sunset Boulevard. Shit, I could be an editor out there. There’s a lot of competition out there though…

  “I knew you could,” Harry winks. “Look, I called you out here for multiple reasons,” he finally gets to the chase. There’s always a chase.

  “Multiple reasons?” I ask him. “Um, like what?”

  “I don’t know how to ask this question, and it’s really none of my business, but… Were you shooting guns the other day with Soren Payne?” he asks me.

  Let’s be clear. This is the most professional office space I’ve ever been in. It’s hip. It’s modern. It has all the necessary accommodations. It also seems has the nosiest asshole in the industry. I lose it.