Chester raises an eyebrow at Taaq, an unspoken challenge passing between them.
My heart quickens in the pause.I can’t miss this chance.This isn’t just about a job.It’s about proving I belong and being as competent as any man.Something I’ve had to do again and again since I grew boobs.
“All right, Dove.”Taaq grins wickedly.“See that ‘69 Camaro over there?”
I glance toward the corner where a dusty Camaro sits, clearly abandoned, its hood propped open as if it’s been screaming for attention for decades.
“You got it.”I stride toward it, a rush of adrenaline pulsing through me.
“That thing hasn’t run in years.”Taaq chuckles.“If you can get it started, maybe we’ll reconsider your application.”
They’ll be begging me to stay by the time I’m finished.
The men trail after me, curious but openly doubtful.
Tossing my jacket on a stack of tires, I bend over the engine and quickly assess the situation.Spark plugs corroded, distributor wires hanging loose, battery hopelessly dead.Typical neglect, nothing I haven’t fixed a hundred times.
“Wrench.”I reach my hand out expectantly, my tone cutting, betraying my urgency.
Chester grunts but directs me to the toolbox.
I immediately dive in, navigating the tools, replacing spark plugs, adjusting the distributor wires, repairing loose hoses, and tossing aside the dead battery.
“New battery?”I glance over my shoulder, impatient.
Chester silently hands me a fresh one, his skepticism melting into curiosity.
Within minutes, I’ve reconnected everything, tightened every bolt, and wiped the sweat and grime from my forehead with the back of my hand.
My pulse quickens as I slide into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition.
A harsh cough fills the garage, followed by a deep, rumbling roar as the engine catches, humming to life in a resurrection song.
I step out, cock my hip against the door, and wipe my hands on a rag, hiding my surging relief behind a bored expression.
Chester’s jaw practically touches the oil-stained floor, and Taaq looks like he’s about to piss himself.
“When do I start?”I hang the rag from my back pocket.
Taaq clears his throat awkwardly, exchanging a glance with Chester.
“Cool.”I crack my knuckles.“I’ll start now.”
“Uh—usually…” Taaq blinks rapidly.“We need to figure out—”
“No need.”I head toward the next waiting car, my chest swelling with triumph.“Just pay me cash.”
“That makes it easy.”He steps back, quietly impressed.
As I lift the hood of the next car, I let my eyes scan the corners of the garage, slow and deliberate, looking for security cameras.I know Jag.If he hasn’t already hacked the feed, he will soon.And I need to know what he sees and hears.
I spot only one camera mounted near the back corner, a dusty little dome overlooking the main bay.Subtle.Barely operational by the look of it.
“Hey, Taaq.”I loosen a bolt and move to the next one.“That camera work?”
“Yeah.”He looks up from a clipboard, brows furrowing like the question caught him off guard.“It’s old.I only check the footage if something goes missing.”
“Fair warning.I like to sing off-key when I’m working alone.”
