of me, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops on my leather pants.
“Say pretty mouth again and see what happens,” I quip, smiling at him. I pretend like I don't enjoy having his hot, tattooed body pressed up against me, but you know, I'm not a complete and total hard-ass.
“I stand corrected: a pretty mouth with an acerbic tongue, and teeth that'd just as easily bite off a dick as suck it. Better?” I cock a brow, and he nods, continuing. “Well, cranky Miss Blackbird, listen to this: a ‘57 Caddy Eldorado is worth a hundred and fifty grand when it's fully restored.”
“When it's fully restored,” I correct, peeking around him at the heap of trash propped up on the driveway. We're in a seedy part of town, not far from Billie's trailer. I wouldn't want to be caught alone out here after dark. Not without a gun, I mean. Or a knife. I could probably handle myself with a knife. “It doesn't even look salvageable to me.”
“Yeah, well,” Hael says, like the cocky motherfucker he is. He runs his tongue over his lower lip and steps back, walking backward until he gets to the side door of the garage. Hael kicks it open with his boot without even bothering to turn around, and then steps back, holding out a hand to beckon me forward. “You've never had the services of Hael Harbin at your beck and call, now have you?” I step up to the doorway and look aside, finding several other half-eaten rust heaps stacked inside the room. “Between all of these, I've got the parts I need to make this shit happen. I'll even let you pick the paint colors.”
I look at him, skepticism riding me hot and hard. I can't figure why the boys would give me a car, when neither Callum nor Oscar ever had one. And now, Aaron doesn't have one either when he needs it most.
“Why don't Cal and Oscar have their own cars?” I ask, truly curious. But even though I don't mean to, my voice is thick with disbelief and suspicion. Nothing good ever comes for free. Fucking nothing. I'm under no illusion that I'm a goddess to these boys—these men. Victor might be into me, Aaron maybe even loves me still, but I've seen what they can do, how easily I can be thrown away. That, and I'm still pissed about the video. There was a breach of trust there, and it's not something I'm going to get over easily.
“I totaled my last car,” Callum says with a shrug of his shoulders, pulling out a packet of salted almonds from his pocket and pouring them into his palm. “Got my license taken away. We pull enough illegal shit without bringing the cops’ attention to me on a technicality.”
“I have no interest in owning a car,” Oscar explains, completely deadpan. “If I wanted to waste my time playing chauffeur, I’d have been born as Hael Harbin.” He tucks the iPad under his arm and gives me a look. “Trust me: if it were up to me, I wouldn't give you such a nice car. Hael has enough to do without spending hours every day under a hood.”
“Who fixes these up then?” I ask, pointing at the other cars.
“I consult; we have people who do the grunt work,” Hael says, moving back over to the shell of a vehicle that's supposed to be mine. He taps the side again, caressing it with tattooed hands like an adoring lover. “But not on this one. I'm going to have everything I need towed to my place, so I can work on it on the regular.”
“But why?” I repeat, genuinely curious. I can't for the life of me understand why they'd do this for me, not without getting something in return. And trust me: I've been giving them the one thing I thought they truly wanted. Unfortunately, they're going to keep playing the mysterious card on me, and I'm not going to learn shit now am I?
“It doesn't matter why,” Vic says, going back to being an asshole. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to look a gift horse in the mouth, Bernadette?” He drags my full name across his tongue like it’s poison.
I ignore the entitled fucker.
“What about Aaron?” I ask, thinking of the girls. I’m not about to accept a car when his got freaking fire-bombed—and likely because of what I did to Kali’s face.
“We’ve already selected one for him,” Vic adds, pulling