“What will be nice, jackass,” I snarl, “will be when I save this garage and you have to take your shiny, expensive ass to torture some other poor person.”

He lets my wrists go and steps back. “We’ll see.”

He turns and looks towards the guys, who are busily scrubbing cars. “It’s so nice to see men who don’t mind doing what they’re told. Good job, Quinn. I’m sure they all feel exceptionally manly with their nuts in your pocketbook.”

Pig.

He turns and saunters towards the exit, but there is no way he is getting out after insulting my guys. I grab the nearest hose and aim it towards Tazen. I charge towards him as he turns around, hands going out in front of him. I spray him right in the face and he lets out a gurgled bellow as the water spurts into his face at full force.

With a grin, I stalk closer.

“Oops, sorry, Tazen. Whenever you’re around I seem to have the worst habit of spilling water on you.”

He barely lets me finish my sentence before he lunges at me, wrapping his arms around my waist. We slip and go down with a thump, him falling over me. Pain shoots through my back and I cry out in agony as I squirm to get out from beneath him. His hands find the hose in mine and he shoves it out, before forcing my hands above my head.

“That was un-fucking-cool,” he barks.

“And so was insulting my guys,” I spit back.

“You’re the one dressing them in bikinis. Why don’t you cut their dicks off while you’re at it?”

“You’re such a jerk.” I squirm trying to get out of his grip.

He leans down close, until our lips are nearly touching. “And you fucking love it.”

“Get off me.”

He presses his body into mine and I bite my lip to stop myself from gasping at the feel of his hard flesh pressing against mine. He feels fucking incredible.

“I’ll get off you when I’m good and ready.”

“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met,” I snap.

“Well.” He grinds his hips against mine. “And there are plenty of girls who would be envious of you right now.”

God.

“You’re disgusting. Why don’t you go and lay one of them down?”

He grins. “Because none of them are as feisty as you. I like the challenge.”

“And I’d like to get off the damned ground.”

“Shit, dude, get off her.”

This comes from Jace who’s approaching us with an angry gleam in his eyes. I’m grateful because a moment later Tazen pushes off me. “No harm done,” Tazen says. “We just took a little spill.” The bastard then proceeds to lean down and capture me under my arms, raising me to my feet. When I’m steady, I jerk backwards. He smirks at me, then gives me a long, sexy stare. “We’ll see each other again soon, angel. As always…” He leans in close. “It was a pleasure.”

I grit my teeth and turn away.

Damned Tazen Watts. He’s getting the better of me.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” I say to Dad as I pace the room Friday after work.

“Quinnie, it’ll be fine. I told you I’m getting better and I’m going to fix things. You’re not even leaving the state. You can call in, if you’re so worried.”

I bite my lip, mulling this over. After a heck load of work, the guys have managed to free up my weekend so I can go to the race with Jace and spend a few nights away from everything. We managed to make just over three thousand dollars at the car wash, but it isn’t nearly enough to pay off what we owe. But it’s a start, and everything helps.

The problem with going away is the fact that I’m leaving Dad alone and I’m not all too comfortable about that. I’m worried he’ll get drunk and hurt himself, or choke on his own vomit.

“I’ve told Lenny to check on you each night.”

My dad frowns. “I’m not a fucking kid.”

No, then maybe you shouldn’t act like it.

I shake those angry thoughts from my head. I hate when they pop up because they make me feel guilty.

“Please, Dad, if you care about fixing things, then let him come around.”

He stares at me, then mutters, “Fine.”

“Okay.”

A knock at the door interrupts our conversation. I rush over, flinging it open to see Jace standing, ready to go. “Hey there.”

“Hey, honey,” he grins.

I step out of the way and let him in.

“How’s it goin’, Robbo?” Jace says as he follows me down the hall I’m currently charging down.

“Hello, Jace.”

When I reach my room, I fling the door open and step inside. I’ve been so busy worrying about leaving Dad and organizing things to make sure he at least eats, that I haven’t been able to pack. I drag out a suitcase and start tossing clothes in.

“Whoa there, woman,” Jace says, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me away from the suitcase.

“Come on, Jace. This won’t take long.”

“No, it won’t because you’re packing clothes that accentuate your … masculine side.”

I glare at him and to prove his point, he reaches in and pulls out an old, grease-stained pair of jeans.

“There is no way you’re wearing this shit.”

I bite my bottom lip.

“Where are your good clothes?”

I cross my arms. “You’re being mean now, there’s nothing wrong with those jeans.”

“Sure, if you want to be mistaken for a homeless person. Hmm, maybe you can ask people for spare change and raise money for the garage that way.”

I snort laugh in spite of myself. “What will you have me wear? Because I’m telling you, I don’t do tight … anything.”

“There’s got to be something good in here,” he mutters, walking to my closet and swinging the door open.

After five minutes of shuffling, he comes back with an armful of clothes. Most of them I have never worn. I went through a stage of trying to be girly, but it didn’t happen and so the clothes ended up at the back of my closet. Now Jace has managed to find each and every one of them.

“You are going to look like a female this weekend,” he says, throwing the clothes onto the bed and then emptying my suitcase.

I watch as he tosses skinny jeans, dresses, bikinis and tank tops in. I scrunch up my nose. “I’m not sure my ass still fits in any of that.”

He stops, stares at my ass, then snorts. “What ass?”

“I’m offended by that statement.”

He laughs. “No you aren’t. Where’s your hair and makeup stuff?”

I don’t answer.

He turns back to me. “Quinn?”

“I don’t, ah, have any. Except my hairbrush, which is already packed.”

“Jesus, it’s no wonder you haven’t been laid for a long time. You’re probably growing cobwebs down there.”

“Hey,” I protest. “I do not have cobwebs. Just a little dust is all.”

“God,” he mutters to himself. “This is going to be a real eye-opener, isn’t it?”

CHAPTER SIX

“Give me another one,” I cry, sliding my shot glass across the long wooden counter towards the bartender.