Page 21 of This for That (The Edge of Retaliation 1)
I take his hand, and I can’t help but inwardly shiver at the way his fingers feel curling around mine. His hands are that of a mechanic, so masculine, with little callouses on his palms. They’re big, too. One of his hands could probably take over two of mine.
We walk past all the people, and I notice a few of his friends watching us with strange expressions on their faces. Is this something he doesn’t usually do? Or are they in the know about what’s going to happen? Either way, they’re watching, and it makes me a little uncomfortable. I sip my drink again, figuring if I can get a little more drunk, I won’t care.
Yeah, right.
I’m so damned anxious.
We walk into the massive garage, and Tanner flicks on the lights. I stare around, eyes wide, mesmerized by the very sight in front of me. Polished black concrete floors line the huge space. The lights are brilliant, bringing it to life, and there is bay after bay filled with cars being fixed, or being pulled apart. It’s incredible. Absolutely spectacular.
“Wow,” I breathe. “This is amazing, Tanner. What a beautiful place.”
He makes a half chuckle, half snort sound from his throat and says, “I’m not sure if beautiful is the look I was going for . . .”
I laugh. “You know what I mean. It’s amazing.”
He gives me a small grin, and asks, “Do you like cars?”
I swallow.
No, I do not like cars. I drive them only if I have to, and when I do, I feel anxious the entire time. I don’t like being in them if I don’t have to. I don’t like anything to do with them, to be honest. If I tell Tanner that, though, he’ll ask why. I don’t want to answer that question.
“Sure,” I lie. “I like them.”
He studies me, as if he can hear the lie in my voice, then he says, “Come and have a look over here then.”
He leads me down past a few bays and through a door, and we enter what could only be classed as a showroom. It’s incredible and filled with all kinds of vintage cars that have been restored, or are currently being restored in the bays surrounding the showroom floor. I stare in awe at the beautiful old vehicles.
“Wow,” I breathe. “This is amazing. You restore old cars?”
He nods. “We do, yeah, but those three in the middle? They’re mine.”
I stare at the three cars in the middle on the showroom floor. There is a Ford Mustang, that much I know, because when I was younger, I always wanted one. It’s red and convertible, and absolutely gorgeous. It would have to be around the 1965-mark in age, and it is pristine. The second car I don’t recognize, but it’s absolutely spectacular as well. Then there is a green race car, decked out for speed and power.
“You race?” I ask him, walking over to the race car and staring at it. It’s amazing.
“Yeah, I enjoy taking it out to street races.”
Street racing. That’s awesome and totally hot. “That’s amazing.”
“Climb in. It’s even better inside.”
I give him a look. “Are you trying to get me in your car so you can take full advantage of me?”
He gives me a look that makes me weak at the knees. “I guess you’ll just have to find out.”
Is this the moment I’m supposed to tell him I’m a virgin? Or do I just go with it, get it over and done with, and move on?
I don’t know.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do right now except get in the car.
So, that’s what I do.
Come on, fate. For once, give me what I need.
9
THEN – CALLIE
“I got you these,” Officer Corel says, handing me a pack of books.
I stare at them for a moment, and then take them from him, glancing down. Harry Potter. I’ve never read these books, but they’re big, and they’ll no doubt take me a while. I don’t know why he got them for me. Does he feel sorry for me?
It’s safe to say, things haven’t been going well for me in here.
Trisha didn’t like that I told on her, and so she’s made my life a living hell, tormenting me in every way she can. Officer Corel is with me most of the time when I’m out, so as yet, she hasn’t been able to get to me again, but she’s waiting. I know she’s waiting. He knows she’s waiting. She’s going to get her revenge on me, and I’m terrified for the moment when that will come.
Until such time, she does nothing but throw threats at me. She’s going to beat me until I choke on my own blood; she’s going to cut my hair off; she’s going to make me wish I was never born. I’m not sure how I’m ever going to get away from her. I can’t avoid her forever, and Officer Corel can’t be by my side every second of every day. I’m sure soon, he’ll be assigned somewhere else, and I’ll have a new, less sympathetic guard on duty.
