Chapter 4
1331 Words
Calla:
I pulled my pink Nissan Silvia S15 into the parking lot at 6:45, screeching my tires to a halt. I ripped open the door and sighed. The garage always smelled like Camden. Motor oil. Hot metal. Old, burnt coffee that had been scorched on the burner from sitting too long. And whatever cologne he'd sprayed on himself before deciding he smelled "good enough." The cologne had long since faded. Everything else hadn't. I unlocked the bay doors just after seven. The old chain rattled overhead before the steel door groaned its way open, letting morning sunlight spill across the concrete floor. Dust danced through the light. The shop woke up. Same as it always did. I flipped the breaker. The fluorescent lights buzzed to life. I turned on the radio and it crackled before settling on classic rock. Coffee pot. On. Air compressor. On. Diagnostic computer. On. Another day pretending the world hadn't gone to hell.
I tossed my keys onto the front counter before dropping my backpack beside Camden's old office. His name still sat on the frosted glass. CAMDEN VANCE Owner. I'd never changed it. Couldn't. Wouldn't. People kept asking. "When are you going to make a new sign?" Never. As long as that name was on the door… It still felt like he might walk through it. The bell above the front entrance jingled.
"Morning." Julio was already carrying a box twice his size.
"Morning." He set it on the workbench with a grunt before pulling the cigarette from between his lips.
"You look mad."
"I have two settings."
He nodded thoughtfully. "True."
Julio Martinez wasn't much taller than my shoulder, but years of hauling engines and transmissions around had packed muscle onto his frame that no gym membership could replicate. His skin stayed permanently sun-bronzed from growing up around the port with his parents. He was quiet. Always thinking. Always fixing problems before anyone else noticed them. He was the kind of person who'd spend three hours engineering a solution instead of thirty minutes complaining. Which was probably why Camden hired him. He picked up a wrench.
"You sleep?"
"No."
"You eat?"
"No."
He nodded again. "Makes sense." That was about as much concern as Julio ever showed. It was enough.
The front bell jingled again. "Morning, losers." McKenna swept inside wearing sunglasses that probably cost more than my toolbox. Long platinum-blonde hair. Perfect makeup. Tiny black tank top. Denim shorts. Not a speck of grease anywhere near her. She looked less like someone who worked in a garage and more like she'd accidentally wandered off the cover of a swimsuit magazine.
"You're late."
She checked an invisible watch. "I'm fashionably on time."
"It's eight-oh-three."
"I said what I said." She disappeared behind the front counter before dropping three iced coffees onto the desk.
"I brought peace offerings."
I grabbed mine. "You're forgiven."
"I know." McKenna smirked. She knew exactly how pretty she was. She also knew exactly how to weaponize it. Parts suppliers gave her discounts. Customers somehow forgot to complain about invoices. Cops let her off with warnings. She'd once talked a guy into giving us a brand-new turbo kit because, and I quote— "He seemed lonely." She wasn't soft. Not even close. She'd claw your eyes out with perfectly manicured nails if you gave her a reason. Which explained why we got along so well.
The rumble of an old Nova echoed outside. Julio sighed. "Here comes trouble." The side door burst open. Reid Harper walked in carrying absolutely zero shame. No shirt. Board shorts. Flip-flops. Grease already somehow smeared across his shoulder.
A faded scar ran from just beneath his eyebrow toward his jawline, disappearing into the scruff he'd forgotten to shave. "You know shirts are legal,” McKenna purred.
He looked down dramatically. "Damn, I forgot."
I didn't even glance up from the unpacking.
"You've been forgetting for 3 years,” I huffed.
"I've got abs."
"You've got skin cancer waiting to happen."
He grinned.
"Worth it." Reid wandered straight for the coffee. Mine. Naturally. I slapped his hand away.
"Touch it and lose it."
"I bought donuts."
"I don't care if you bought the moon, this is MINE." He stole one anyway, Julio wouldn’t want one anyway.
"I missed this place."
"You were here yesterday."
"I know."
Julio rolled his eyes.
"I regret waking up."
"You say that every morning."
"I mean it every morning." Despite myself… The corner of my mouth twitched. Barely. Reid caught it immediately.
"There she is."
"Don't."
"What?"
"Whatever you're about to say."
"I wasn't gonna—"
"You were."
"I was."
I pointed toward a Silverado sitting in Bay Two. "Go make yourself useful."
He tossed the donut into his mouth. "Bossy."
"I learned from Camden." That shut everyone up. Just for a second. The silence settled over the shop like it always did whenever his name came up. Julio quietly picked up an impact gun. McKenna busied herself behind the counter. Reid scratched the back of his neck. Then… He spoke carefully.
"I saw somebody last night."
I already knew. Still… My stomach tightened. "I know."
"You saw him."
"I know."
"He moved back."
"I know." Silence.
The air compressor kicked on somewhere behind us.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"No."
"Okay."
Another beat. "I think you should."
I slammed my toolbox drawer harder than necessary. "What part of no sounded confusing?"
"The part where you're pretending you're not mad."
"I'm not pretending."
"No?"
"No."
He leaned against the workbench. "You've been trying to remove that bolt for five minutes." I looked down. I'd been turning it the wrong direction.
"...Shut up."
He smiled. "Gotta admit."
"I don't."
"I didn't think he'd come back."
Neither did I. Which somehow made it worse. Julio quietly rolled a floor jack underneath the Silverado.
"He looked rough."
I busied myself grabbing another socket. "Good."
Reid watched me. "You don't mean that."
"I absolutely do."
"No." He shook his head. "You don't."
I spun around. "You weren't the one pulling Camden out of that car."
His expression fell. "No."
"I was."
"You think I forgot?"
"I think everybody forgot." The words came out sharper than I'd intended.
"They all moved on."
"Calla—"
"They still race. They still throw parties. They still laugh." I tossed the ratchet onto the toolbox. "My brother's been dead for two years." Nobody spoke.
Finally… Reid did. Quietly. "If Jace really did it..." I looked up. "...why'd he come back?" The garage went still. Even the radio seemed quieter. "He could've stayed with the Reapers." No answer. "He had a reputation over there." Still nothing. "He didn't need Calusa Cove." I stared at him. "He didn't need any of us." My jaw clenched. "He loved Camden." There it was. The sentence I hated hearing more than any other. "He loved him."
"So?"
"So..."
Reid rubbed the back of his neck. "I've known Jace since we were five."
"So have I."
"I've seen him do a lot of dumb things."
"Congratulations."
"But I've never seen him hurt family." I laughed. Short. Cold. Humorless. "Family."
"Calla."
"No." I took a step closer. "If he loved Camden so much..." My voice cracked despite my best efforts. "...then why is Camden dead?" Reid didn't answer. Because he couldn't. Neither could I. The only sound in the garage was a socket wrench slipping against steel. Julio kept his head down. McKenna suddenly found the inventory spreadsheet fascinating. Everyone knew. No one had an answer. I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned back toward the truck in Bay Two. "Get me a ten-millimeter."
Reid didn't move. "Calla..."
"I said get me a damn ten." He sighed. Then quietly reached into the toolbox. The wrench landed in my hand. Neither of us spoke again. Outside, somewhere across Riverside, an engine roared to life. And for the first time since Camden died… Jace Maddox was somewhere in my town again. Whether I liked it or not.
- Writer
