Page 29 of Sling’s Awakening

“So… are you just going to ignore me?” Whiplash presses.

A groan leaves my lips as my head tips back.

He just isn’t going to let this go.

How do I tell him that I can’t get my neighbor out of my fucking head without sounding like a bitch? It’s gotten to the point where I wonder what she’s doing. Who she is with. If she has clothes on.

I went from not knowing she existed to wanting to have eyes on her any chance I get.

Maybe there’s something wrong with me.

I’ve never felt like this before.

But her storming across our lawn with no pants on ignited something inside of me. I like that she can go toe-to-toe with me and not back down. That’s rare to find given my status.

The garage’s phone rings, making me slide along the bench and pick it up. We’re old school and still have a corded landline attached to the wall. No sense in fixing something if it ain’t broke.

“Saint’s Garage,” I answer.

“May I please speak to Sling?” A man’s voice sounds through the phone.

I recognize it, but I can’t place it.

“Speaking.” I move to hold the phone against my ear with my shoulder as I lean back against the bench and cross my arms.

He clears his throat. “This is Russ from Losti Ravn.”

The fuck?

“What can I do for you, Russ?” I ask, making Whiplash stop what he’s doing and look at me with a confused look on his face.

All I can do is shrug because why the fuck is this guy calling me? And at the garage of all places.

“I hope you and your brothers enjoyed your night out celebrating. I apologize for not getting to speak with you before you left the club. I don’t want you to think I was blowing you off. I told my club manager to let me know when you were about to leave. She will be reprimanded accordingly.”

Blowing me off?

Why is he making it sound like I was the one who needed to talk to him? He’s the one who came at me at the bar. Crazy thing to do when I’m spending a whack at his club for my brother’s birthday.

Who the hell is this guy?

“Look, I don’t know who your manager is. I never talked to her, so no harm done. And if I had wanted to have a conversation with you, we would have had a fucking conversation.”

Whiplash is now leaning up against the Chevelle, watching me.

“My manager was filling in as the bartender. Our normal girl unfortunately called out. Have I offended you in some way? If I have, that wasn’t my intention.”

I snort. Did he fucking offend me?

So Blake manages that joint.

No wonder she looks like she’s going to a big girl job with some flair. Poor thing, always looks like she’s about to drop dead at any second from exhaustion, though.

“You somehow knew my government name and thought it was okay to use it in front of goddamn everybody. I wasn’t offended then. I was just going to grab you by the balls if you did it again. But now I’m offended. Do you want to know why, Russ?” I don’t wait for him to answer as I barrel forward. “You thought it was a smart idea to track me down and call my fucking garage asking to speak to me. Are you stalking me now, Russ?”

Whiplash snickers as I hear Russ bluster on the other end of the line.

“No,” he rushes out.