“I’ll be back later,” I tell him but not before texting my cell from his so I have his damn number going forward.
“W-where’re you goin’?” Nerves take him over, but honestly, I think it’s safer than my place at this point. And it’s definitely safer than him being on the streets. Plus my choices for good hiding spots are slimmer than ever now.
“I’ve got some errands of my own to catch up on,” I tell him. It’s the truth at least. I’m simply leaving a few details out of the equation.
Like the fact that I need to go find out what the fuck a certain Dick wants to see me about, and why he’s being so polite about it. Get certain police officers to admit they offed a minor without cause, and maybe get some closure for a kid who’s out of family because of said police officers offing his brother.
No big.
X X X
A half-hour later, I’m on the side of the road with zero cash in my wallet and a car that’s decided she needs a nap.
“Bullshit.” I should have known better than to try and push the Chevelle’s engine all the way back to my place.
I should have fucking gotten her to a shop, checked her out, then gone to see Walker. But, no, I gotta run her into the fucking ground so she dies on me in the middle of one of the busiest motherfucking intersections in the whole goddamn city.
She slows to a quiet stop. Mainly because the engine just died. I throw her into park and hop out to see if there’s anything even remotely familiar about her insides that will allow me to get her running long enough to find a mechanic.
I’m sure I can figure it out. I mean, I didn’t ace high school and maybe one-fifth of the academy for nothing.
Forty-five minutes later, though, I’m still fighting with the fucking thing. Mainly because, in addition to being smart, I’m a stubborn ass. Or so I’m told. Plus I have the wrong tools.
At least it’s not rush hour.
My hand slips on the wrench when I go to tighten some of the spark plugs.
“Ow. Ffffffuck!”
“What’s up, Stiles? Got a leak in your vocabulary?”
I lift my head a little too quickly when I hear the familiar voice and clunk my head on the hood of the car.
That shit hurts.
“Funny, Green.” The pain rushes from my thumb all the way to my fucking head, and there’s absolutely no way to hide that fact.
I rub it out. “What brings you to this side of the tracks?”
“Touché.” She laughs. “You all right?”
“I will be.” The ache subsides the more I shake it out. “But, seriously. What are you doing here?”
“I said I’d check in later, right?” She looks down at the engine. “I was on my way to your place when I saw you on the side of the road arguing with your car. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing you can help me with this time.”
“Oh, really.” She shoves me out of the way as she leans over where I was just standing.
“What happened?”
I cross my arms and ignore the tight fitting pants that show off her ass. “She died. That’s what happened.”
“Any specific noises when it happened?”
Is she serious right now?
“Noooo.”
She heaves out a heavy sigh and reaches farther into the workings of my car.
“Your alternator might have died,” she announces. “Depending on the car, some won't even click when the battery is dead but will have enough juice to power the accessories. Hand me your wrench.”
She blindly puts a hand out toward me.
I place it in her hand because, hell, what the fuck else am I gonna do? I’m also slightly turned on. Not gonna lie.
“What are you─”
“Just wanna try something before we charge the battery. It might not be necessary, but if it is…” She grunts as she twists something. I lean over her shoulder to see what the fuck she’s doing in there.
“We might also want to try jumping your starter. Sometimes with newer ones, there’s a really small wire that comes off the starter, but on these older models…” She finds something with a loud, “Aha!” then wriggles her way to the back of the engine. The way her hips are moving against my, uh, engine reminds me of how she felt against me last night on the couch.
“We could bridge that and your power stud on the starter if we had to. If the car starts, then it’s probably a wiring issue in your ignition. Try her now.”
I slide into the front seat and give the key a turn.
And hell if the damn car doesn’t start right the fuck up.
Green stands there, wiping her hands and smiling wide.
Me?
I’m blown away right now. And kinda really fucking digging this woman even more so than before she fixed my piece of shit vehicle.
I climb back out and ask her, “What the fuck did you just do?”
She hands me the wrench back and pushes some hair out of her face. When she does it, oil smears across her cheek. It makes her look like she’s getting ready for football season.
I imagine her running at me with that smug-ass look on her face, tackling the shit out of me right now.