“I think I lost them.”
“What did they look like?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters. Gonna knock their fucking brains out their ears.”
He would, too.
I knew these biker types well enough to know that even the most fun and lovable among them were capable of intense, unimaginable violence when provoked.
I mean, Dezi, with all his love of sweets, was a lunatic. And Sully, in all his silly Hawaiian shirts, was incredibly lethal.
Perish, he didn’t even try to hide his brutality. He wore it on the outside.
“Can you just… walk me to my car?” I asked. “Please,” I added when he kept scanning the streets, looking for someone to pound his fists into.
He exhaled hard, looked down at me for a long moment, then nodded.
There was nothing to be afraid of with a giant by your side. Especially one with hands the size of his. Who was, no doubt, armed as well.
We were both silent on the walk, but I got the feeling that Perish’s mind was as loud as mine was, judging by the wired look behind his eyes each time I chanced a look up at him.
“This is me,” I said when we got to my car. “Thank you. What?” I asked when he just kept… hulking there.
“Gonna stay here till you get in and drive off.”
“Okay,” I agreed, lips curving up. It was something one of my uncles or cousins would say too.
So I climbed in my car, stuck the key in the ignition, and… nothing.
I tried again.
And again.
“What the hell?” I asked, throwing open my door.
“Dead battery?” he asked, going toward the hood and knocking on it.
“I just got a new one.” My dad had insisted on it even though my old one was working just fine.
“I don’t wanna think about you sitting on the side of some dark road because your car won’t start.”
I leaned back in to pop the hood before joining Perish as he grunted over my engine.
I didn’t know anything about cars.
I didn’t even check my own oil or top off the fluids.
It was one of the many perks of having so many men in your life who liked doing those little tasks for you.
“Do you know about engine stuff?” I asked, hoping he didn’t, that he was just one of those guys who stood and grunted at a car but had no idea what to do about anything. Because I was already too into him. If I found out he was also competent on top of being hot and protective, I just might combust.
“Enough to know that this,” he said, grabbing a little slim rectangle and pulling it out of a slot near the battery, “fuse is blown. It’s your master fuse,” he clarified, showing me the little clear area of the fuse that looked like it had some soot in it.
“You say that as if I have any idea what that means.”
“Your uncle owns a repair shop.”
