Wrench - Steele Riders

“Talk to me, Dash. Are you scared, hungry…horny?” he questions, smirking on the last one.

“All three, but I’m curious. Do you normally finger bang chicks in the parking lot?”

“First that’s crude. I didn’t finger bang you. I pleased my woman. And for the record I don’t fuck with anyone in town. You don’t have to worry about that. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone period and not in Steeleville. Boomer would probably frown upon what I did out there, but he never said I couldn’t. Anything else you’re curious about?”

“What happened with my uncle?”

He sighs and explains, and one thing stands out to me. Simon let it slip that he might know where I am.

“So he’s sure I’m with you then?”

“Probably or that I know where you’re at. I’m sorry. I lost my temper the more he spoke.”

I press my hand on his forearm and then slide my hand into his. He laces our fingers together. “It’s fine. If he knows I’m in town then he won’t stop looking for me.”

“Mackenzie, I promise I won’t let him hurt you.”

“I want to believe that, but it’s not just him. I’m worried about the people he has connections with.”

“They aren’t getting you regardless. I’m not letting them get to you either.” He’s grumbling to himself as he drives on.

“Wait, this is your garage? You live here?”

“My home is around the corner. I wanted to be close to work.” He continues to drive past the garage to a little road and there’s a nice-sized two-story house with lots of land around it.

There’s a wraparound porch and a swing, making me gasp. “Oh my. This is yours?” It’s always been a dream of mine to have a house like this one day.

“Yeah. It’s not big, but there’s room to build on.” My brows raise up. It’s much bigger than I expected. I don’t know how much mechanics make, but he must be doing really well for himself.

“It’s so beautiful,” I offer up, feeling out of place. Having lived in my uncle’s home which wasn’t even as nice as this one, I felt not good enough. He reminded me often that I was nothing but a burden even though I worked since I was sixteen. My parents died when I turned nine. They were in a massive car wreck on the expressway while on vacation.

“Thanks, babe. I hoped you’d like it.”

“I wish I had my act together like this.”

“What do you mean?” He pulls into the detached garage and puts it into park.

“Well, all I had to my name was my car and that was stolen from me. Plus, I thought Mitchell was going to fire me today.”

“What the fuck? That bastard was going to fire you today? I’ll have his ass fired.” He reaches for his dashboard panel, but I press my hand to his forearm to stop him.

“No, he doesn’t need to be fired. Honestly, I’m kind of a shitty employee. I’m the one who accidentally breaks the jacks.” I squint my eyes and scrunch up my face. He scowls and then drops his arm.

“As far as I’m concerned you’re not going back. Not just because your uncle could be after you, but it’s fucking dangerous to be messing with them when you don’t know how to use them.” He appears angry with me which pisses me off.

It’s his damn fault that I lost my focus. Turning in my seat, I glare at him and poke his bicep. “Well, I wasn’t concentrating on things. Every time it was after your mom would show up and then you would. I kind of freaked out.”

“Fucking hell, I wish I just asked Mitchell about you instead of waiting to run into you. You could have killed yourself with those things.” It catches me by surprise when he cups my face, stroking my cheek with concern. “I’m sorry I set you on edge, Mackenzie.”

“It’s not like that exactly,” I say sheepishly.

“What was it like?”

I can’t read his expression, so I tell him the truth. “I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t want to tell you my real name because…”

“You’re hiding from him?” he finishes my sentence, holding my hand tightly in his.

“Yes.”

“It’s okay, Dash. No need to hide from me anymore. I’ve got you and I’m not letting you go. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.” His other hand brushes my hair behind my ear. “Tell me you understand, Mackenzie.”

“I understand, Simon,” I say, unclipping my seatbelt.

“Say it again,” he grunts.

“I understand,” I repeat.

“No, babe. My name.”

Oh. My heart races knowing he wants to hear me say his name. I give him what he needs. “Simon.”

He lets out a low growl and that feral look is back in his eyes. Simon leans in and crushes my lips to his, wraps his arms around my waist, and lifts me up over the console and onto his lap.