Page 1 of Single Mom's Biker Brigade
PROLOGUE: CALLIE
Almost done. As far as Thursdays went, this one hadn’t been too bad. A couple oil changes, a rando guy trying to hit on me when I told him his tires needed to be rotated.
Nothing out of the ordinary and exactly how I liked things nowadays. I wouldn’t say no to more money, though.
Sweat trickled down my spine and the money stuck to my hands as I counted out the last of the bills.
“Mama, I’m bored.” Cody, my six-year-old boy and the best part of my life, stared at me from the cot across the room.
“Sorry, bud.” I lost count, the fives and ones nowhere near enough to cover what I needed for the month. Damn it. I worked my smile into place before Cody caught the frown and started to worry. “Maybe we can find a movie to watch when we get home.”
“I wish Miss Ashley hadn’t canceled.” He crossed his skinny legs and sucked on the almost empty juice box. Air and juice mixed into a slurpy sound that brought out a wry chuckle.
Boys. He’d have fallen over laughing if it was a ketchup bottle making a fart sound.
Oh to be young and so easily entertained.
Cody shifted his weight to one side and tossed the empty juice box into the black trash can. “Can I drive the Mustang?” He motioned at the old Ford sitting in the bay.
It had a rattle in the engine no mechanic could fix, but old Mr. Bray thought he could manipulate me into doing the work for free seeing as how I was a woman doing a man’s job and all that bullshit.
I pointed at the discarded workbook in his lap. “Did you do your homework?”
His nose snarled into a tight crimp that made his hazel eyes squint. “Yes?”
“Cody.” I used my best ‘don’t test me’ voice, and he sighed.
“I only have one question left, but it’s dumb.” He slapped the workbook closed and kicked it off the cot. “Who cares about someone called Josh having five apples.” Another kick sent his backpack sliding after the workbook. His cowlick forced his hair straight up over the center of his forehead, and the dramatic backward flop twisted his Spiderman T-shirt across his chest.
I bit back a grin and concentrated on the money in my hands. “How about some real world skills?” I bundled the dollar bills into a stack. “See if I counted this right?”
He bounded over in a blink. “Really? Cool.” The second-hand sneakers I’d bought him a month ago lit up when he jumped up and down. He’d complained of his feet hurting last night, and the almost new pants already showed his ankles…again.
“We’ll go home soon as we finish this.” I tapped the cash drawer. “I thought we’d finish off the pizza.”
He nodded, his brow knitted as he concentrated on the money.
The sharp bite of smoke mixed with gasoline and the underlying stench of oil that I could never quite wash out of my clothes or scrape from beneath my nails.
I raised my head and scanned the room.
Fading sunlight cut in from beneath the foot of space where I’d left the bay door cracked open to keep air flowing.
Black smoke spiraled from the door midway between the bay and the office exit.
How the hell had something in the supply room caught fire?
“Cody.” I kept my voice calm despite my heart trying to beat out of my chest. “I need you to stay with me, okay?”
He looked up, concern tightening his features. “What’s wrong?” It took less than a second for him to turn and spot the smoke.
I instantly cataloged all flammable materials in the storage room.
Too many.
I should have counted the money in the bay instead of the office.
Only one door in the office, and it forced us directly into the hallway leading to the storage room.
