Wrench - Steele Riders

Chapter 1

Wrench

“I need milk and eggs on your way home from work, please,” my mother says after calling the shop twice today. I don’t even live with her. Seriously, she needs to find a hobby or a boyfriend or some shit. I love my mother, but she gets bored easily. I have a custom build and repair shop to run and don’t have time to chit-chat about nothing. Most of her calls are for the same damn thing. She wants grand babies, and as her only child, it’s my duty to give them to her. I scoff because her attempts are getting feebler.

I roll my eyes when she reminds me that there’s a girl at the store I’ll fall in love with. She’s been at it for a long time with this one, and I’ve wondered if she’s gone senile or something. I’ve seen every single female in that store, and she’s nuts. Two of the females are underage, and the other two are married.

My head always begins to throb when she starts this mess. “Mother, please. I’ll pick up your groceries. Text me a full list, so I don’t have to go back,” I grumble, trying to remain polite. She is my mother, after all. I’d never disrespect her.

“I will. Gosh, I wish you’d run into Mackenzie already. I can’t believe you haven’t yet. She’s absolutely adorable.” The whine in my mother’s voice works my nerves right now. She wants grandbabies so damn bad that she forgets that it’s not that easy. Yeah, I could fuck any woman and possibly knock her up, but I’m pretty damn selective and right now too busy to even take a trip to Dallas to hit the bars.

“Adorable? I’m a grown-ass man,” I bark out, catching Flex, my lead mechanic, smirking as he just strolls into my office to drop off some papers. I needed to keep that door closed. I flip him off while holding the phone to my ear. He needs to get the fuck out of my office.

“Watch your language.” She always gets on my ass about swearing even though I’m already twenty-seven.

“Sorry, Mom.” Flex’s shoulders shake. I’m about to fire his ass if he doesn’t quit that shit. He’s my crew manager, right-hand man, and asshole extraordinaire. Covering the phone, I snarl out, “Get your ass back to work.” He laughs his way out, closing the door behind him.

“You’re a good boy. Besides, Mackenzie’s perfect for you. Trust me when I say it.” This woman is persistent.

“Is she even real?” I question because I’ve been to the store for the past eight months and never ran into this girl. Please tell me she’s not talking about the teen girls that are jailbait. I’m not interested in little girls.

“Yes, she is. I don’t know how you haven’t seen her yet. She works every time I send you there,” she exclaims as if she’s more annoyed than I am, which is hardly the case. I feel like she’s going to try even harder.

“So you gave away your motive, Mother.” I tap my pen on my desk and shake my head. This woman has absolutely no shame.

“I haven’t been hiding it.” I can just see her rolling her eyes at me.

“Well, maybe she’s onto you and hiding from me. Have you ever considered that you pushed yourself so hard on your favorite candidate for grandbaby mama that she bailed on you?”

“I’m sure she’s not. Or at least I was sure, but now that you mention it, I believe she might be. That’s not nice. I think she’ll make beautiful babies with you. Maybe she has a boyfriend.” Suddenly, I feel irrationally jealous over this imaginary woman and her boyfriend. I don’t know the woman, so it’s absurd and I toss that emotion out. It’s just pride over this imaginary woman choosing someone else over me. My mother is driving me crazy.

“Mother, I have to get back to work. I’ll stop off there at nine to drop it off.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” I end the call and then leave it on my desk because I have a shit load of work to do before I can close up the shop. I scoop up my Windows Surface and head out onto the floor to check in with my staff.

I’m just down the stairs when Boomer walks up to me. “Hey, Wrench, can I have a word with you?” He’s the President of the Steele Riders and the founder of Steeleville. We’ve known each other for years before I came to work here. I offer up my service to the Riders when needed, especially on customizations.

As we shake hands, I ask, “What’s up, Boomer?” Just as he’s about to answer the sound of cutting metal becomes too loud. Holding my hand up to stop him from speaking, I lead him away from the noise around, so we can talk.