When I get inside, I note my Aston Martin is still parked in the corner of the garage, untouched. I guess it’s not a priority to Benji.
Jerk.
In front of me, a pair of feet are sticking out from under a car, while another mechanic kneels beside it. The kneeling man has a mop of dark brown hair, and my breath catches.
Maybe Sawyer is here. Maybe he stayed. Maybe the years that have separated us have softened his hatred for me, and we’ll finally have a chance to talk.
But the dark-haired man turns to look at me, and a stranger stares back. He taps the boots sticking out from under the car, and Benji rolls out. He sits up, his mouth immediately turning down.
“Well, if it isn’t our new resident magpie.”
“Magpie?”
“You saw something shiny, and you just couldn’t help yourself but swoop down and steal it.”
I scoff. “Look around, Benji. There’s nothing shiny about this place.” I jerk my head to the office. “I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah? I need to finish working on this car.” He drops back down and rolls under the vehicle.
I ball my hands into fists. Anger smacks me across the face, leaving a big red welt on my cheek. The other mechanic drags his eyes back up to mine, tipping his head down ever so slightly.
“I’m Oliver.”
“Rae,” I say, turning on my heels and heading to the office. The sound of a power tool screeches in the cavernous space, and I let myself slam the flimsy door to the office. The wall shakes.
The sound is hardly changed. I listen to Benji’s power tool whining, and I feel like he’s doing it on purpose.
I didn’t steal anything. I bought this place with my own money. I paid for it, every single dollar—with a hefty down payment and a business loan. Having the last name Montgomery helped with the bank’s approval.
Did Benji have the money to pay for Harold’s retirement? Could he fund the old man’s RV trip across the country?
No.
I did.
Me.
Sucking in a breath, I try to calm myself down. I’m here for one reason, and I need to stay focused on it. I’m trying to stitch my broken family back together again. Getting fired up about some grease-covered mechanic isn’t going to help that.
Dropping my laptop bag on the desk, I move to a filing cabinet in the corner. Harold gave me his set of keys, so I pull them out and unlock the cabinet. In the second drawer is a slim folder marked ‘Staff Details.’
It only takes a minute to find Sawyer’s phone number. My hands tremble as I reach for my phone, knowing I could be speaking to my brother in mere minutes.
I could explain everything to him. I could tell him why things happened the way they did, and why I had to take care of Lucy instead of taking care of him. Lucy got pregnant. She needed me. I had to stay behind.
But when I put the phone to my ear, it beeps, and a metallic female voice tells me the number has been disconnected. I sigh, dropping my head.
“You’re not going to find him at his address either,” Benji says behind me. I whip my head around, schooling my features. He nods to the paper in my hand. “He left town last night.”
“Wonderful. How completely out of character for him.”
Benji frowns. “Why do you want to talk to him anyway? Why not just respect his space? He doesn’t want you here, and he sure as hell doesn’t want you as his boss.”
“Are we still talking about my brother, or are we talking about you?”
“You think you can just walk in here, with your money and your quarter-of-a-million-dollar car, and we’re all just going to bow down and kiss your feet?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “This isn’t fucking Houston, Princess. This is Woodvale, and your money doesn’t mean shit.”
“Don’t be so naive.”
“That money doesn’t mean anything to me.” He shrugs.
“Why do you keep talking about it then?”
“Do you even know why your brother left?” Benji leans his shoulder against the doorjamb, his eyes raking down my body and back up again.
The hatred emanating from him leaves a bitter coating on the back of my throat, but the heat of his gaze makes my thighs squeeze together. Lust brushes across the base of my spine, igniting something deep within me.
Stop it, Rae. Get yourself together.
“Don’t talk to me about my brother,” I say, turning my back to Benji and stuffing the folder back in the filing cabinet. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough.”
I slam the drawer closed, planting my hands on my hips as I face him. Who does this guy think he is? He thinks he can waltz in here and talk to me like I’m some kind of evil incarnate? He doesn’t know the first thing about me—or my family. He doesn’t know what I’ve sacrificed to take care of my siblings. What I’ve given up. What I still give up every single day.
My eyes blaze. My teeth grind. I clench my fists, staring Benji down with all the heat of my rage.
He just stands there, smirking.
I feel like I’m going to combust.
He crosses his arms, and my eyes drop down to the ropes of thick muscle that wrap around his forearms. Benji watches me, arching an eyebrow.
I wish his gaze didn’t make flames lick my stomach. I wish I were impervious to his power. Unaffected by his presence.
But I’m not.
When he’s so close to me, I feel him pulling me toward him. I’m almost helpless, except for the fact that his tongue is razor-sharp and his eyes spit venom.
Benji pushes himself off the doorframe, and I stop him.
“Benji, wait,” I say. He keeps his eyes steady on me. I gulp. “Look, I…” I take a deep breath. “I’ll stay out of your way. Let’s
