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The Unacceptables Series Box Set by Kristen Hope Mazzola (38)

Chapter 3

Trent

It wasn’t every day that a gorgeous woman who ten of my brothers hadn’t railed at some point walked into the bar. I was really getting tired of the damn cut sluts who just wanted to lick the tip of a biker’s dick. It was like a badge of honor to them, and it repulsed me.

Don’t get me wrong, I did fall prey to my primal desires from time to time—what guy wouldn’t? I just didn’t want to continue on that path forever.

I walked a few paces behind Sloan as she made her way over to her beat-up Camry. Red spray paint was faded on the side of the white car. I could tell she had done her best to get the profanity off, but the word whore could be made out if you looked close enough. I didn’t want to call attention to it, but I couldn’t let this poor woman drive around like that. I thought about it for a second and decided that keeping my mouth shut about the paint was just not going to happen.

“Hey, what do you have planned the next couple of days?” I asked while trotting up next to her to open the driver’s door for her.

“Putting as many more miles between me and Boston as I possibly can.” Her tone was flat as she rolled her eyes.

I held on to the door once she got in, racking my brain for a good reason to get her car to our shop. I didn’t have one, so I just spit out what was on my mind. “I’ll repaint your car if you don’t mind sticking around these parts for the rest of the week. I’m a mechanic over at a garage about a mile away. We have some really talented body work guys.”

“Thanks, but I have been dealing with this for over a year now. I don’t even notice it anymore. Besides, I don’t have that kind of money right now.” She pulled on the door handle; apparently our conversation had come to an end.

I didn’t want to push her too much. I hopped on my bike, made the two turns toward the motel, and drove into the parking lot. I waited for her to pull in and walk into the office. She didn’t wave, didn’t even acknowledge me, not so much as a thank you. For some reason, that made me want to know her more. There was something so dark and troubling in her, a storm brewing deep down. It felt like she needed rescuing, and I recognized it because it mirrored the tempest within me.

* * *

After being at the garage for a few hours, I still couldn’t get Sloan out of my mind. I had barely gotten three oil changes done by the time Red came in from lunch with bright yellow mustard in the whiskers at the corners of his mouth.

“Slacking off today, kid.” He rolled his eyes, picking his teeth with the side of a business card.

“Just a little fogged today, brother. I’ll pick up the pace.” I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand before diving back under an Chevy Silverado to get the air filter off.

“It’s that random broad, isn’t it? The one that was at the bar a bit ago?” Red knew me all too well. He spit on the ground next to my feet as he slouched into a folding chair.

I rolled back out to grab another tool. “Yeah, man. There’s something about her. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

He let out a forced laugh. “There’s always something about everyone with you, Tre. She was a hot little filly, though.”

“Yeah, she is pretty. It’s not just that. She seems different than the shallow bar flies that buzz around this place.” The need to defend Sloan was consuming and compelling.

“I guess, but be careful. They all turn into whores at some point. Look at me and my old lady—she won’t even give me the time of fucking day. My daughter ain’t even talking to me right now.”

Bitter old man. “Once I’m done here, will you help me with something?” I had a plan. No one was going to like it, but it was going to work. Well, I needed it to work, anyway.

“Fuck it. Why not?” He threw another pinch of Red Man in the back of his jaw before offering the bag to me. I declined; chew had never been my thing. I loved smoking cigarettes but had kicked the habit when I dried out. Being an ex-junkie put a label on my back in the club. I still drank, but never as much as the guys thought I did. Without maintaining control, I was worried I would fall back down the rabbit hole. That was something I refused to ever let happen again.

I finished up with the truck’s oil change and stood to stretch out my back. “You ready, brother?”

Red nodded, setting his reading glasses on the desk. He had been slaving away doing invoicing all damn day and was due for a little ride. I hopped into the driver’s seat of the tow truck and Red slid into the passenger’s side.

“We don’t have any pickups or repos today, do we?” he asked, rolling down the window to spit.

“This is a favor I’m doing, kind of a surprise thing.” I gripped the steering wheel tight as I pulled out of the lot.

“We’re not stealing a vehicle, are we?” His eyes were wide as we drove down the road toward the motel.

“Fuck no,” I answered, a little offended that he would think that I would steal a car. “We’re going to pick up that chick’s car. It needs a fresh coat of paint.”

Red shifted in his seat to look at me better. “Does she know you’re picking up her car?”

I rubbed the back of my freshly buzzed head. “Not exactly.”

Red threw his hands in the air. “Fuck, Tre. Ryder is going to have a field day with our asses if this chick causes a scene.”

“I’ll deal with Ryder if anything comes of this.”

Her car was right where I’d seen her park it. I knew we needed to make quick work of this.

Red just sat in his seat staring at me, his jaw hanging open a bit.

I threw the truck into reverse and glared at him. “You going to fucking help me or just sit there with your thumb up your damn ass?”

He grunted, “Fine.”

It only took a couple of minutes to get the car up onto the flatbed. I was surprised no one came out of the rooms to check to see why a tow truck was in the parking lot, but that was better for me. I was sweating bullets driving back to the shop. I knew what I was doing was wrong in a way. Yes, I’d taken a complete stranger’s car without asking, but it was for a good reason. I was being a good Samaritan.

It didn’t take long for us to get the car back to the garage and hidden in the back of bay. Even though I didn’t care who knew I had the car, it was technically stolen, and Sloan could make my life a living hell if she called the cops.

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