Knocked up by the Mechanic

“Help him up and he can walk up the hill on his own,” I said. “He’s not dead yet.”

“OMG, it’s so gross, he’s covered in puke,” Ale cried as we pulled him to standing. “I guess we’re not going drinking. I thought the guy with the pink bowtie was pretty cute.”

“Houlton Rothschild? Ale, he’s gay,’ Gianna told her.

We all held onto Kresley as he staggered up the hill toward the house. He was barely able to walk and I wasn’t quite sure he’d make it.

“Gay guys are fun,” Alexandra shrugged.

“Not when you’re looking for dick,” Gianna said. “Can I do a tiktok of the house, it looks so pretty all lit up like that.

“Evidence,” Alexandra squealed. But Gianna did it anyway.

We made it to the patio and Kresley was walking, but barely, like a zombie out of Night of the Living Dead. We let him go when we hit the lighted area and he swayed on his feet. The three of us started booking for the house as fast as we could in our long dresses and heels.

A loud splash sounded behind us, followed by a gurgling noise.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Gianna said.

“Me either,” I intoned as we slipped through the back entry.

“Do we have time for a selfie?” Ale asked. The three of us lined up and Gianna whipped out her phone. We smiled for the camera and Gianna rubbed the red lipstick from her bright white teeth. Behind us was the stone fireplace. A painted portrait of my mother at our age hung over the mantel piece.

“Cheese!”

Chapter 10

WYATT

I called Locke and told him everything. He listened like the good friend he was. I told him how deep I was in, how I’d almost killed another man, and how I felt like I could kill ten more if they stood between me and Harley.

“So, fuck, man, do you need me to get you out of the country?”

“I can’t live without her. Maybe just stage something. Knock me out with something and have one of my old cars crushed with me in the trunk.”

“Stage it like Shakespeare or really fucking kill you, bro?”

I didn’t know the answer to that question. If there was any chance I could be with Harley then I wanted to live. If I couldn’t, then I couldn’t care less about what happened to me.

“That’s fucking badass that she pulled a gun on you, bro. That’s your fucking woman, dude. I can’t imagine a better match-up, even if she is an East Pointer. Speaking of Easties, your girl’s girl Gianna was over here last night. Bought up my whole stock of Molly. She rolled out of her like an E-puddle, said she was going pub crawling with the Brooks girl.”

“What the fuck?” Rage swirled through my bloodstream. “I have to get rid of that girl, keep her the fuck away from Harley,” I said. What the hell was Gianna thinking? Trying to get them all raped and killed?”

“Sounds to me, Wyatt, like Harley can handle her own. She ain’t no dainty flower if she pulled a .38 on you because you were brawling. And if she let you wipe some dude’s blood on her face while she gave you head, I’d say Gianna Delacourt isn’t the one you need to worry about, Dunne.”

“You’re fucking right, Locke. Stand by, I might need you to bail me out later,” I told him before I slammed down the phone.

I was a mess of nerves and sweat. I’d been doing bench presses again until my muscles screamed and burned. Didn’t know if I could face old man Brooks, but now I had no choice. I felt like if he took one look at me he’d know I was in deep, twenty thousand fucking leagues, with Harley.

And what was the right thing to do? Ask him for his daughter’s hand, kidnap her, put a gun to my head and threaten to blow my fucking brains out if she wouldn’t leave with me. I hadn’t seen her in a week, but her taste still lingered on the tip of my tongue. I hadn’t touched her in days, but the feel of her flesh still buzzed in my fingertips.

I stood up, unscrewed a barbell weight and smashed it through my only mirror in the trailer. When Kat died, I swore I’d never get entangled with East Pointers again, but thanks to Harley, I was about as embroiled in Eastie drama as I could possibly get.

I took a long hot shower trying the whole time to control my cock and my mind, and keep my emotions from boiling over.

When I got out of the shower, the entire trailer filled with the steam vapor from the hot water. I grabbed my phone and checked my texts and sure enough, Brooks had sent me a message. Not the Brooks I wanted, but I opened it anyway.