Till The Sun Dies: Checkmate, #2

by Finn, Emilia

  Laine tears the door up to reveal a magnificent fucking smile as she jumps in place. “I did it!” She claps her hands together. “I did it, Ang!”

  I’m so screwed.

  “Hey.” I can’t help the grin that stretches across my face. If she’s happy, then I’m happy. “What’s going on? What did you do?”

  “Come in!” She snags my hand and tugs me through the door. She doesn’t turn back to close it again; she allows the afternoon sunlight to filter in as she yanks me to the open engine. “It’s done.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What’s done?”

  “The car! Wanda’s all done.”

  “Um… no.” I stole several important pieces. “Are you sure?”

  “Uh-huh!” She steps to the sink and pumps soap into her hands. For the briefest second, my stomach drops when she lathers the soap right up to her elbows. But as fast as she starts, she rinses them off and snags a hand towel and wipes them off again. “Look.” She points with her elbow and moves toward the mini fridge. “We were missing a timing belt. And the crankshaft cover.”

  And two spark plugs. They’re in my pocket right now.

  “Jess and I swung by the auto shop to get more spark plugs.” She takes out a can of soda and offers it. “I swear we had enough the other day. I counted them out while you were screwing around with the whitewalls, but whatever.” Her silky blonde hair floats in the gentle breeze when she cracks her soda open. “Doesn’t matter, because I figured it out, got more from the store. Put ‘em in.” She lifts a hand with attitude. “Broke a damn nail.” When I lurch forward to inspect her hand, she simply waves me off and bounces. “But it doesn’t matter, because I did it! Wanda’s done and I maybe cried a little bit.”

  “You cried?” I try to catch her flying hand as it whips around like a whipping hose on a summer day. She’s always been like that; she talks with her hands. “Show me your nail. Does it hurt?”

  “No! I did it. I fucking did it!”

  “And you cried?”

  “Happy tears!” She sits her soda on the edge of the sink and spins toward me – long, floating blonde hair, a little peach colored tank top, and faded, almost white denim shorts that I’m pretty sure she wore when she was sixteen – and with a breathtaking smile, she throws herself into my arms, forcing me to catch one-armed or risk dropping her.

  I toss the soda into the engine bay and bring my hands down to hold her.

  “Wanda goes, Ang!” She wraps her arms around my neck and buries her face beneath my ear. “I’m so happy, she goes. We rebuilt her from scraps and broken shit, and now she’s strong and sounds so pretty. The car doesn’t backfire. Doesn’t misfire. It purrs like a damn puma.” She leans back in my arms and looks down into my eyes. “I started the car, and when it purred, I maybe groaned with pleasure.” Her eyes light with teasing. “And I haven’t done that in forever!”

  Lord, have mercy. If she slides down my body, I’m a dead man.

  “Um.” My voice cracks. My hands are full of Laine’s ass, my cock stands from the thought of her making any sounds of pleasure, and now my voice is cracking like I’m fifteen all over again. “You started it?”

  “Uh-huh.” Her fingers absentmindedly scratch the back of my neck.

  She’s going to be the end of me.

  She’s looking for a celebratory hug, and I’m rocking an inappropriate fucking boner.

  “I found everything I needed and finally got her to turn over an hour ago.”

  “You did the oil already?”

  She nods. “And something arrived in the mail. A gift for you. Wanna see?”

  “Umm…”

  “It’s actually a gift for me.” When she pushes back to be put down, most men would let her slide down their bodies. Hip to hip, chest to chest, a real man would hold her tight and enjoy every last bump and curve.

  But not me, because I’m a fuckin’ pussy, and if she finds out she made me hard, she might freak out.

  Instead, I lift her up and away from me, stretching my arms out as far as they will go before setting her down. When she stares at me with a frown, I turn away.

  “Ang?”

  I walk away from the car. Toward the sunlight in the front yard.

  “Ang?” She grabs my arm and undoes whatever work I might have managed to soften my cock. “Ang!” She snags my sleeve, but I busily rush away and shove my hand into my pants to rearrange my dick before she notices.

  “Angelo Alesi!” Standing on the grass in front of Kane’s house, she finds one of those pockets of sass I thought Graham had long ago stolen, and spins me around to face her. “Why are you ignoring me? I was talking to you.”

  “I’m sorry. The oil fumes in the garage were making me feel weird.” Yeah. Weird like a fuckin’ sissy. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

  Shadows stop at the front door of the house, but with her back to them, Laine doesn’t notice. “I was saying I finished the damn car.”

  “Yeah, I know. I got that.” I finish it off by offering a high-five. A fucking high-five! “Awesome work.”

  “Are you mad because I finished without you?” Instantly, her fire is doused with insecurity. “Are you mad because I took over? I didn’t mean to take over, I was just having so much fun with it. Something to do during the day that made me smile and helped me dance.” Her eyes turn watery. “I know it’s your car, and I know you enjoy building them, too. I took over.” Her hands begin shaking. “I’m so sorry I took over.”

  Right now, right this second will be a defining moment in our lives. A moment we’ll look back on that I’ll either fuck up so bad we’ll never recover, or I’ll help her. I’ll soothe just a little of the rough edge that Graham chipped into her armor.

  Laine never used to be insecure.

  She never would have second guessed this.

  But now I see it; Graham would have been mad she did something unsanctioned. He’d get mad and make her pay for her insubordination. He’d break her heart and mind, and she’d think over her mistakes for the rest of her life.

  She wouldn’t see it for what it is; a manipulating prick on a power trip. Instead, she’d wonder that maybe her life would be better, easier, happier if she just did as she was told.

  “No, Laine.” I step forward until our toes touch. I pull her shaking hands between mine and squeeze until they stop. “I’m not mad. I promise.” A single tear slides over her cheek, breaking my heart. “I’m happy you finished it. But more than that, I’m happy you’re happy.”

  “Are you sure? Because I could go back and pull a few things out. I should’ve been more thoughtful. The least I could do is save the last piece for you, to let you turn the engine over. That should’ve been your job.”

  “No.” I twine our fingers together and watch her hair flutter in the breeze. “I’m not mad, I promise. I wanna hear the engine turn over, but only if you’re here with me. I wanna see you smile, because that’s the only reason I brought the damn thing here. That car was always for you.”

  Her bottom lip wobbles. “For me?”

  “Yes. You think I have time to rebuild a whole fuckin’ classic on my own? No. That car was in the right place at the right time. I saw it, thought of you, thought of the time you tore Luc’s bike apart, and now here we are.”

  “You brought it home like a therapy thing for me?”

  “I brought it home because I knew you’d enjoy playing around with it. I wanted to help you, to give you something else to think about. A tangible goal to achieve. And…” I let out a long sigh. “And an excuse to visit each day so we could hang out.”

  Her lips quiver. “You don’t need an excuse to visit me. You just gotta knock on the door and shout ‘I’m here, bitches. Where’s the pizza?’”

  I laugh. “If I ever walk in the door, call you a bitch and demand pizza, you’d kick my ass. And not before I kicked my own.”

  “You don’t need an excuse, Ang.” She moves her fingers in mine, twisting them, reminding me how delicate and small her hands a
re. “We’re family. You’re my friend. Just text, any time, and I’ll reply.”

  I’m so in love with her, and she thinks I’m family. A friend.

  Yeah, my chest still aches.

  “Okay.” Stepping back before she can break me again, I turn back toward the garage. “What thing came in the mail? What did you wanna show me?”

  “Oh!” Back to the excited girl from five minutes ago, she spins and drags me toward the car. “So, you already bought one of these; a new one. But I found this on a second-hand online store and I really, really wanted it.” Her shoulder blades pop as she pulls me along. She peeks back and meets my eyes. “I say I got it for you, but really, I still intend to buy this car, so it’s actually for me.” Releasing my hand, she skips toward the fridge and opens a small box that sits on top.

  Pulling out bubble wrap and tissue paper, she grins at whatever she’s got.

  Pulling it out, she cradles the damn thing in her arms and walks toward me. “Just like the manual you were fleeced on, this is original. And it works.”

  “An odometer?” I take it from her and wipe a thumb across the front. “How’d you find it?”

  She shrugs. “I ran out of Brooklyn 99 reruns, so I was cruising online auto places.”

  “As you do.”

  She snickers. “All the cool kids are doing it. I found it, I closed one eye and looked at the price; a little bit more than ten bucks, but here we are. It arrived this morning, but I didn’t put it in yet, since it’s technically your car and I already took over.”

  I laugh. “You can put it in if you want. Need help?”

  Her face splits into a large grin. “I got it, but don’t leave, I wanna hang out.” Taking the odometer, she doesn’t notice the way her fingertips brush over my chest. She doesn’t notice the way her long hair fans over my hands when she excitedly turns away.

  She doesn’t notice the way my heart beats faster when she’s near.

  Oblivious, she rushes to the freestanding, ten drawer toolbox and snaps it open to the screwdrivers. She knows where everything is, and it does my heart good that she puts it all back in its rightful place.

  There may or may not have been beatdowns in my garage because the apprentices throw my tools around and never put them away properly.

  “So, summer break’s coming.” She shuffles me aside to get inside the car. “Are you excited?”

  “It doesn’t make much of a difference in my life. I work year-round, but it gets hot as fuck in that garage in the middle of summer.”

  She expertly works with the wires. “It’s weird that not everyone gets a summer break. Don’t you miss it?”

  “Of course. Everyone enjoys summer break. It takes a lot of getting used to when you don’t get that anymore.”

  “You chose the wrong profession, Ang.” She glances up as I walk around to the passenger side and slide in beside her. “Rookie mistake, and such a guy thing to do.”

  “You told me your students are monsters and you were considering a job in the garage.”

  Her entire frame bounces with laughter. “That was then. Now summer’s here and I remember why being a teacher is awesome.”

  “It’s not too hot yet.”

  “Not yet, but it will be soon.” She flashes a beautiful smile. “I bet it’s gonna hit hard this year. It’s saving the heat up, then we’ll all melt to the road.”

  She paints a picture in my mind of a blistering summer in a hot garage.

  Rookie mistake, indeed. I should’ve picked an office job.

  “I probably need to buy new fans for the shop. My guys will kill me if it gets hot again like last summer.”

  Footsteps on the internal stairs draw my attention. I wait for the door to open, because I know who it is, but more than that, I know it’s both of them. The steps are too heavy not to be Kane’s boots, and there’s no way Jess won’t follow him out to get more of what they were watching in the yard.

  “Incoming,” Laine murmurs. Her eyes remain on her tasks, her hands sure. The dangling strands of hair over her shoulder draw my attention, tempting me to wind around my fingers. “They used to coddle me when I first came here. Jess made all my meals, brought me snacks, asked me what I wanted to watch. She made Kane watch Gilmore Girls every night just to get me to sit with them.”

  “And now?”

  She grins. “Now she calls out if I’m in the kitchen and tells me to bring her snacks. She throws balled socks at my head the way you throw wrenches when your apprentices don’t put them away.” She knows me so well. “She’s officially done coddling me. Time to grow up and rejoin society.”

  The door swings open and reveals a set of dirty grins.

  Sliding under Kane’s arm, Jess steps into the garage and studies us. “You guys know you need to take it outside, right? Driving means roads.”

  “Ha.” Laine rolls her eyes and works on mounting the odometer. “I’m finishing this, then we’ll take it for a spin.”

  “That’ll be nice.” Jess’ mischievous eyes meet mine. “You should take it up to the lookout. It’s a good place for couples; maybe you’ll bust someone banging in public.”

  Missing her sister’s jab, Laine lets out an inelegant snort. “I swear, they’re filthy.”

  “Who?” Kane pulls Jess against his chest. “Who’s filthy?”

  “Britt got busted with Jack at the lookout. She was going to dirty town with her man when the cops turned up.”

  “The cops… her brother?” he laughs. “She was busted by her brother?”

  “Yup.” Jess looks up and grins. “It was super shitty timing, considering Britt had organized a dinner for the next night to introduce us all. Ya know; bringing the boyfriend home to meet the family. It was a shit show.”

  “But it gets better,” Laine continues. I already know this story, I was there for that dinner, I saw the gun slinging, egg throwing, ketchup bottle flinging drama. “After Britt and Jack married and had a baby, they were driving around one night because baby Charlie wouldn’t sleep. They drove up to the lookout.”

  Jess snickers. “Wouldn’t ya know it; Alex was up there banging Jules.”

  Kane’s smile grows. “Busted by his little sister?”

  “Yeah. Jack was pretty smug about that.”

  “I’m constantly surprised by you freaks.” Kane shakes his head. “You act all white bread, pure and clean and perfect, but then you find out the little secrets. The fucking in public. The cow tipping. The criminal friends.”

  “You are our criminal friend!” Jess laughs.

  “Don’t forget the gun range,” Laine adds. “You meet weird commando dudes that are perfectly content aiming guns at people he claims are his friends, and if that ain’t weird enough, turns out your sister is on a first name basis with him.”

  Jess grins. “Don’t hate on Spence. He’ll MacGyver you. He’ll kill you with a paperclip and make it look like it was the cows that came back for revenge.” She waves her hand through the air, brushing vengeance filled cows away. “Anyway. Did you tell him?”

  “Tell who?” I look around. “Me? Tell me what?”

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Jess laughs. “Laine, you wanna tell them, or me?”

  Laine bends closer and pretends the odometer is of the utmost importance. “You can.”

  Kane’s smile dims. “Tell them? Tell them what?” He spins Jess. “What are you hiding, Lenaghan?”

  “It’s almost summer break.”

  His eyes narrow. “I know, Blondie. I saw the sun. Get to the fuckin’ point.”

  Laine concentrates harder than she needs to on the final screw on the odometer mount. She doesn’t look up, and no matter how hard I stare, she refuses to meet my eyes.

  “Laine?” Don’t break my heart now. “What don’t I know?”

  “It’s summer,” Jess continues. “And Wanda is ready. Did you sign papers for the car yet, Baby? Is it yours?”

  “Not yet. Later.”

  “The car?” I frown. “You’re buying t
he car?”

  “Yeah.” Finally, she looks up with shy eyes. “I can still buy the car, right? You’re not selling it to anyone else?”

  “No.” I reach into the glove compartment and pull out the papers I already signed. “It’s all yours. You just gotta sign and take these into the DMV.”

  With insecure eyes, she looks up with a wobbling smile. “I’ll cut you a check when we go inside.”

  “No.” I shove the papers back into the compartment. “No cost. I got the car for free, and you put in all the work. It’s yours, free and clear.”

  “No! I’m not taking it for free.” She turns to me and brandishes her screwdriver like a weapon. “I’ll pay for it. I don’t want it for free.”

  “Get to the fuckin’ point!” Kane snaps. “Who cares about the car. What do you need to tell us?”

  “I’m taking leave from the firm.” Jess grins foolishly. “I already told Jules. Just a week or two.”

  His eyes narrow. “Why?”

  “Road trip!” She bounces on her toes the way Laine did when I first got here. “Me, Baby, and Wanda. We’re going on a road trip.”

  I expect Kane to blow up. I expect him to tell her no. I expect something of a tantrum the way Scotch or Marc would if the girls declared something so insane.

  I was counting on him telling them no, since I can’t do it.

  But he does nothing of the sort.

  The thug smiles like a little kid. “Awesome. Road trip! Where are we going?”

  19

  Angelo

  Invitation

  For hours, the girls sit in the living room and make plans. Excited plans. Giggly plans. Plans to surf, plans to shop, plans to skinny dip and probably shave all their hair off.

  They’re losing touch with reality, and all the while, Kane sits in on their chat and adds his own plans.

  That motherfucker has inserted himself into their girl’s trip so seamlessly, I’m not sure they’ve even noticed.

  “I could teach you how to surf.”

  Impressed, he grins at Jess. “You know how?”

  “Of course! We’re a skater family. You think I didn’t learn how to surf? Every summer, we went on family vacation to the beach. Bet your ass me, Luc, and Baby were up with the sharks.”