The next night, the garage was cold.
The mechanic sat on the floor in silence. Still stained from the last session. He hadn’t cleaned. He hadn’t fixed a single car. The chain from the collar she’d locked around his neck last time still hung from the hook she’d installed in the beam above the workbench.
She told him she might return.
She didn’t say she’d bring company.
The door opened at midnight.
Not creaked — opened. Firm. Intentional. The way she walked.
His head snapped up instantly. She stepped inside, coat long, boots wet from the storm outside. Her hair was slicked back, her eyes sharp. She looked like a queen visiting her favorite servant.
And behind her…
Another woman.
Shorter. Curvier. Dark red lips. Thigh-high leather boots. A heavy harness strapped tight across her ches
