“S top the presses. What in the actual fuck is happening here ?”

I stop work on the wiring job I’m doing on the Range Rover I’m working on as I hear TJ talking to me. I glance down my body and see his scuffed work boots standing by the rear hitch, the cause of all the problems. Fucking amateurs thought they could install a trailer hitch and wiring by themselves. Not on a Range Rover. The Brits love making their wiring harnesses difficult .

I roll out, giving him a questioning look. “What’s up, man? Just checking out the turn signals on this tea slurping son of a bitch .”

TJ looks me up and down as I get to my feet, raising an eyebrow. “You have the same hair, you rode in on that same bike . . . but I’m not sure if you’re really my brother. You sick? Win the lottery? Get laid ?”

Confused, I stare back at him. “Huh ?”

“Well, the ‘fuck off, world’ look you normally wear is gone, I haven’t smelled you light up one of those damn Marlboros all day, and when I checked the trash, I didn’t see a single can. The coffee pot’s still full. What gives ?”

“Nothing,” I reply, trying to growl but for some reason, just not able to find myself able to. TJ’s just trying to be cool. “It’s just one of those days .”

TJ scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Bullshit, Evan. You were whistling. Not a song, or hell, even a tune, but you were damn sure whistling while you worked. That’s new, not just a ‘good day’. What’s up ?”

Was I? If I was, I didn’t realize it. I was just focused on the job at hand, but now that he mentions it, my brain has been a little quieter this morning. I mean, I slept halfway decently, and when I got to work today, instead of seeming stupid or infuriating, I just found this job to be a puzzle to solve. “I dunno. Like I said, nice weather today .”

TJ gives me a look I used to get in the Army, the one that senior sergeants would give when they knew I was full of shit but wasn’t quite going over the line yet. “Nice weather, huh? My money’s on your getting laid. Finally. It’s been forever, man. Gotta grease the pipes every once in awhile or you get rusty, Tin Man.” He laughs, then shakes his head .

Without warning, white heat sparks in my core, singing out through my body as my fists clench. I grab his coveralls, jerking him to his tiptoes before pushing him away, pain lancing through my head. “Fuck you, TJ. I was doing all right this morning, but thanks for fucking that up .”

He leans back, but he’s used to my outbursts and just shakes his head softly. “Bro, I was just teasing you. Chill out .”

I sigh, still wound tightly, and turn away to snatch a cigarette, realizing he was right. I hadn’t grabbed one of these today .

Standing in the doorway as I start to puff away, I hear TJ talking behind me. “Sorry for hitting a sore spot. I was just glad to hear the noise. In other news, I went on a date with Alice again .”

I side-eye him, my brows furrowing together as I rack my brain but come up short. Maybe I really do need some caffeine. “Who ?”

TJ leans against the side of the shop, upwind of me, as always, and looks across the street with me as I take a deep drag, the swimmy feeling rushing up to my brain like it always does even as the disgusting taste floods my mouth, reminding me of other smoke I’ve breathed and making me want to gag .

“The girl I told you about, asshole. From the hotel? We went to dinner last night, had a couple of drinks, and then I dropped her back home .”

I can’t help but egg him on a little. He’s my baby brother, after all. “That’s it? You didn’t fuck her ?”

He growls a little bit, glaring at me. “Don’t talk about her like that. No, I didn’t. It was a damn first date, and she’s not like that. We just kissed on the little porch when I dropped her off .”

I flashback to my date with McKayla. Well, I don’t even know if it qualifies as a date when you go for a ride and finger bang her before dropping her off curbside, but as I didn’t blow my load until later that night, I guess you can’t call it a booty call either. TJ definitely wouldn’t call that a date, but McKayla didn’t seem to mind .

But maybe she should .

TJ’s chick, Alice, probably liked being picked up for a proper date with a decent guy. From everything he’s told me about her, now that I think about it, she’s probably the kind of girl any guy would like. Smart, I guess cute, and TJ is obviously over the moon about her. She’s probably what a lot of guys would call ‘marriage material’. She’s the sort of girl you treat right, take her out to dinner, pick her up at her doorstep, and maybe even shave most of the time beforehand .

McKayla should have that too. Too fucking bad that’s not me though. I’m far from decent. I shave two, maybe three times a week, and I can’t remember the last time I dressed ‘nice ’.

I puff away as TJ tells me every little damn detail about his date, and I stare across the street into the salon in order to distract myself a little, watching McKayla tell a very animated story to a lady in her chair .

As I’m watching, I see that weasel Jaxson pull up and park his gleaming BMW at the curb, blocking half my sightline of the salon interior. He walks in, and from far away, I hear TJ. “What’s wrong ?”

I look over at him, fury coursing through my veins and my fingers crushing the last remnants of my cig so completely that I don’t even feel the burn of the ember as it’s snuffed against my palm. “What ?”

TJ looks startled, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “You’re snarling. What’s wrong? Flashback ?”

I sigh. He can be a pain in the ass, but most of the time, he’s always there for me, and he’s tried to understand. “Nah, just saw that city council shit going in the salon .”

TJ glances over, recognizing the car. “Jaxson? Don’t really know him, but he seemed all right when I opened up the garage. Came by, shook hands, wished me luck. It even sounded half genuine .”

I think over my answer. Like TJ, I first met Jaxson soon after I came back to town just after my discharge, full of anger, clothed in my winter riding leathers, and barely able to sleep at night without screaming myself awake .

He’d come by the diner along with one of the local cops on my third day back, I guess after figuring out that I wasn’t just some transient biker. The discussion had been full of veiled comments, some snide remarks about a former service member looking like I did, and the implied threat that I’d better watch my ass .

Not that I’m going to tell TJ about that. He might try to understand, but he wouldn’t really. It’s like John Rambo said, Over there, I was in charge of million-dollar equipment. Here, I can barely hold down a job parking cars . “He’s trying to get McKayla to go out with him and he’s a slimy little shit .”

TJ stares at me in total disbelief for a solid minute before figuring out what to say. “Yeah, she could really do worse than a stable, employed guy who wants to take her out on a date. Maybe you’d rather she go out with you? Because lord knows, you could offer her so much joy and happiness with your aura of rainbows and fucking glitter .”

He huffs and stomps back into the office, shutting the door a little hard, but the hydraulic keeps it from slamming .

What the hell’s wrong with him? I just said I didn’t like the guy . . . the guy who wants to date McKayla. It wasn’t like I told him every reason I hate the fucker .

I lean back against the garage again, maintaining my study of the scene across the street. The sad part is, I know that TJ is right. McKayla deserves someone nice who’d treat her right and take her on dinner dates and carry on a conversation beyond grunts. She deserves a guy who’ll give her everything she wants and then some. Not someone haunted like me. Someone whole, who’s not half-soulless with a void filled with demons .

I don’t have any right to inflict myself on her. I need to maintain the status quo and minimize my impact by keeping to myself. Nobody needs to know just how fucked in the head I really am, and if I don’t talk to them, they won’t know. Just stay quiet, and if it gets too bad . . . I move on. The advantage of a motorcycle and a military background is that I can pretty much go wherever I want and get along just fine with what I can fit in my saddlebags and the duffle I still have at the house. Between that and my check from the military that says I’m partially disabled, I’ll get by .

Decision made, I dust the last crumbles of tobacco off my hands, rubbing them together before scrubbing them on my jeans. I give one last glance across the street, where I take a small measure of comfort in seeing Jaxson marching out the door, rounding the front bumper of his car as he dangerously tightens his already straight tie. Denied !

He looks up toward the garage, and I swear I can see a familiar coldness in his eyes when he sees me standing outside watching him. I’m doubtful he’s ever going to stop seeing me as the possible biker gang member who rolled into his town and is eventually going to cause trouble. He yanks open his car door to get in and then fires up the engine before pulling back into traffic, once again the perfect city council member as he accelerates at just the right speed up the street. It’s another thing I don’t like about the man. When you’re pissed, you’re allowed a half-second to gun your fucking engine if you’re in the clear. In fact, maybe that’s the real reason. Maybe there’s nothing slimy about him and he’s just too much of a goody-two-shoes .

My eyes tick back to the salon, and McKayla and Brad are talking like nothing happened. Brad’s waving his makeup brushes around and twirling, making McKayla laugh uproariously before her eyes glance across the street and she sees me. Before she can do anything, I turn and go back inside. That wiring harness isn’t going to fix itself .

Whatever. Maybe he just needed a cut and she couldn’t fit him in. Not my business and I don’t care .

I keep telling myself that as I head back inside and climb back under the Range Rover .