“You need something?” he asks, resting his arms on my door, purposely invading my personal space.
“I-I was looking to get my oil changed.” My eyes fall to his cut, taking in the club and patches. This isn’t just a body shop, it’s an outlaw’s home. What the fuck has Delilah gotten herself into. I’ve never heard of The Fallen Gods, but I bet Shadow has.
He narrows his eyes at me, he knows I’m lying. My holster with a .22 probably the first clue that I’m not some citizen looking for a nice garage to get his oil changed at a decent price.
“We only work on bikes here.” His tone flat but calloused.
“Right.” I stare back with no emotion. “Thanks.” Forcing myself to look away, I roll my window up and pull away from the dumpster, leaving him in the rearview mirror.
Keeping tabs on D is going to be harder than I thought. She ran from one club right into the arms of another. The question is, are they worse than the Devils? Because they have his daughter and something tells me he’s not going to like this when I report back to him.
Delilah
6
Delilah
The sun has set allowing the night air to cool but my face sweats from the stupid mask Thane made me wear. If I didn’t want this job so badly I would have refused. Stepping back, I pull the damn thing off my face and throw it on the bench. The skin around my nose and mouth sore from the plastic rubbing. I bet it’s red. Running my palms over my face, I try to soothe the irritation. Dropping my arms, I know I’ll just have to shower and put some lotion or something on. Looking my work over, the thought of my blotchy red skin disappears I can’t help but nod and smile, it looks good. Hopefully the customer will be happy with it. That’s the thing with my work, I freehand making it one of a kind, but it also brings the risk of an unsatisfied client because they didn’t get to approve a sketch beforehand. So far I haven’t had any complaints though.
Hearing a bunch of male laughter, I glance toward the sound and find some of the club members straddling their bikes, the familiar rumble of the mufflers making me miss home. I watch as they leave, my eyes falling onto the gas station across the street. It still has its lights on. I’d kill for a cold Dr. Pepper right now. The idea of cold bubbly carbonation filling my cheeks and coating my parched tongue making my mouth water. I got a few things the other day but Dr. Pepper wasn’t one of them.
Turning the lights off in the garage bay, I walk out and grab the tattered rope that hangs from the handle of the garage door. Tugging it with all my weight to pull it shut, my feet almost leave the ground as I nearly hang from it before finally it begins to close. The loud clanking noise echoes through the night until it reaches the ground. Dusting my hands off on my overalls, I lock the door with the deadbolt that hangs on the side, and head across the street for that drink. The smell of trees, dirt, and the exhaust fumes from the motorcycles is something else compared to LA. The sound of crickets chirping is so loud I don’t know how the people around here can stand it. Something loudly croaks or barks to the left of me and my heart jumps, my hand on my chest I stare at the motionless ditch with a little bit of water pooled in it from the last rain. Was that a frog? I didn’t know they sounded like that! Jesus, there’s so much nature here I don’t know if I’m excited to experience it or terrified. The lights from the gas station slip across my face, pulling me from the darkness that carries the unknown... and that frog that obviously was born next to a power plant.
Pulling the door open, the smell of candy and cleaner brushes against my face along with the cool air. I close my eyes for a second, taking in the nice arctic atmosphere. It’s hotter than hell in Georgia, I don’t think LA ever got this unbearable.
Skimming the candy aisle, I look but nothing strikes my fancy so I head to the coolers, passing the beer first I stop and purse my lips at the thought of getting a six-pack instead of a soda. I don’t think I have enough cash on me for that though, so I settle for the lesser of the two and pull out a Dr. Pepper. Placing it on the counter next to the register but there’s no clerk. There was a lady here the other day that checked me out. I look around the store for her but don’t notice anybody.