Hard to Break

  He stares at me for a long, intense moment, then he grins. “Do you question everything?”

  I narrow my eyes. “Mostly.”

  His lip twitches. “One drink, angel.”

  “Fine,” I say. “One drink.”

  He smiles and nods towards a small garden space at the front of the bar. “Go sit down. I’ll be back.”

  I nod and walk over, flopping down onto a free chair. I wonder why the hell I am agreeing to a drink with this man after he has done nothing but taunt me, but he seems genuine and one drink won’t kill me—especially after he let me have such an amazing experience on the track today.

  Tazen returns a minute later and hands me a beer. I take it, grateful it doesn’t contain vodka, or tequila, or anything else that will send me spiraling into an embarrassing drunk before I’m ready.

  “So, Quinn, tell me something about you.”

  I take a sip of the ice-cold beer. “Nothing to tell.”

  He leans back in the chair, crossing his ankles. “We all have stories, angel.”

  I meet his gaze. “And sometimes we don’t want to tell them.”

  He nods. “Can understand that.”

  “Tell me about your cars.”

  He smiles, placing his beer in his lap and curling both his hands around it casually so it doesn’t slip off. “Been under cars and driving them since I could understand what an engine was—used to build them with my uncle and I knew from a young age it was what I wanted to do.”

  “Me too.”

  He looks to me with narrowed eyes. “You’re seriously telling me you can fix a car?”

  “Are you seriously telling me that you think the only people in the world who can fix cars are men?”

  He shrugs. “It’s our role, just like males don’t make good hairdressers, you know.”

  “Males can be the best hairdressers,” I point out.

  He scrunches up his nose.

  I can’t help it, I laugh.

  He huffs. “Fine, point taken.”

  “When did building become more than just fun for you?”

  He takes a sip of his beer, thinking about that for a long while. “My uncle died and left me a good amount of money when I was nineteen. I figured what the hell, I’d start building custom cars. It just exploded from there, I got a name and here I am.”

  “So you’re self-taught,” I say. “That’s impressive.”

  “Yeah.” He grins. “I know.”

  “Arrogant too.”

  He chuckles. “Never denied it, angel.”

  “How old were you when you sold your first custom?”

  “Twenty—it took me a year to build that car but I sold it for double the price I paid to build it.”

  “That’s pretty cool, even for you.”

  He shakes his head with amusement.

  “Do you think you’re going to do it forever?”

  “Nah,” he grunts. “One day I’ll get tired of it, but by then I’ll have enough money it won’t matter.”

  “How will you survive when you’re not famous and girls don’t throw themselves at you?”

  I say this while throwing my hand across my chest. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, with an impressive and sexy as hell half smile. “I’ll have to find a way. I’ll probably become a male escort.”

  I snort. “You’d probably do well.”

  “Especially if I dress up. The chicks dig my uniforms.”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head.

  “Enough about me, angel. I want to know more about you.”

  “As I said, there’s nothing to tell.”

  I look away, taking a sip of beer. I really hope he doesn’t ask too much, because it’ll be embarrassing for me when he finds out just how boring my life is.

  “You got yourself a man?”

  “We both know the answer to that,” I say, still directing my eyes away from him.

  “How long has your dad owned the garage?”

  “Since I was born.”

  He goes silent and I turn to look at him. He’s staring ahead with a blank expression on his face.

  “It’s all I’ve ever known,” I go on. “My dad, he, ah, got unwell when my mother passed. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve managed to keep it going.”

  “Big job for a girl to do on her own,” he says, still not looking at me.

  “Maybe, but it’s all I’ve ever known and I love working with cars. I have been in that garage since I was little. I used to spend a lot of weekends with my dad. When I learned to fix cars, I did that instead of going out and living like most teens did at my age. It’s the happiest place in the world for me, it always has been.”

  He nods and is silent for a minute.

  “That old Mustang you drive,” he says, changing the subject. “You do that up?”

  I turn to him, tucking my leg up underneath me. “Yes, Dad and I fixed it up when I was younger. I love that car.”

  He nods. “It’s a nice one.”

  “Do you have any old classic cars?”

  He turns to me, flashing me a wicked grin. “Nah, I only go for the powerful, sleek, new ones.”

  “Of course you do,” I scoff.

  “I’d like one, though.”

  I nod, drinking more beer.

  “You seen a car built from the ground up?”

  I shake my head. “No, but I’d love to.”

  “You should come past my shop one day. I might even let you drive one of my creations.”

  I gasp. “You’d let a girl, a simple girl, behind the wheel of your car?”

  He shakes his head, grinning. “Maybe, it all depends.”

  “Let me guess,” I say with laughter in my voice. “She has to have model good-looks and big breasts out to…” I put my hands out in front of me. “Here.”

  He looks over to me. “No, she just has to be real.”

  I blink.

  His face doesn’t change.

  He’s being serious. Holy shit he’s being serious. Now I feel bad.

  “Most of the girls you are with don’t seem real, Tazen.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes travelling off into the distance. “Nah, they aren’t.”

  “Don’t worry,” I say lightly. “There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

  He exhales on a laugh. “You’re a piece of work, angel.”

  “I never denied it.”

  He turns to me, and he’s got a serious, lusty look on his face. He leans in close and my breath hitches as his fingers go up and curl around the back of my neck. “I’ve met a lot of women in my time, but none of them intrigue me the way you do. Fuck, hearing you scream with joy in my car today. Made me fucking hard as hell.”

  Oh. Shit.

  “It’s called wanting what you can’t have,” I squeak.

  “No, baby, it’s called wanting,” he leans in close so our lips are nearly touching, “what’s real.”

  Oh boy.

  He leans in closer and I realize he’s going to kiss me. He’s going to kiss me and I don’t have it in me to pull back, hell, I don’t want to pull back and I should. Yet here I am moving closer to him, desperate to know how he tastes. His breath tickles my lips right before heaven breaks open and something amazing happens.

  He kisses me.

  I haven’t been kissed for a solid five years, but no kiss, no kiss, has ever felt like this. My breath hitches and I gasp against his mouth as he pulls my body closer to his and tilts his head, deepening our kiss. His tongue touches my lips, coaxing mine open. I willingly accept and let him in. Our tongues touch and electricity shoots through my body. I close my eyes and whimper as he takes my breath away.

  His hand is still around the back of my neck, massaging gently. The other one is on my leg, squeezing softly as our kiss gets deeper and more intense. His rumbly moan blends with my soft, breathy one and I practically throw myself onto his lap. Our bodies crush together and I kiss him so hard I know my lips will be full and sore after it, but I don’t ca
re.

  A throat clears behind us and we wrench apart, turning with panted breaths to see a bartender standing, looking horribly uncomfortable at our public display of affection. “Sorry,” I gasp, shoving away from Tazen and placing my fingers against my lips.

  “Ah, the drinks you ordered are ready,” he says, handing our beers to us.

  I take one and swallow three big mouthfuls, unable to look into Tazen’s eyes. I can’t believe we just did that. We just kissed and I’m supposed to hate him. This is bad, so bad. My cheeks burn and I keep my eyes directed away from his. A warm hand captures my jaw and he turns my face towards his, opening his mouth to speak. He doesn’t get any words out; because something launches at him and knocks him clean off the chair.

  It takes me a moment to realize what’s happening. I turn quickly, confused and stunned, to see Tazen on the ground with Jace on top of him. The two are in a serious punch up, with fists flying and curses being spat. Jace drives his fist into Tazen’s face and then in a split second, Tazen has flipped Jace and is driving his fist into his face. I cry out and leap out as blood starts being shed.

  What the hell?

  “Stop!” I cry.

  Two large bouncers appear. One lifts Tazen with one, big beefy hand and another lifts Jace. They hold them apart, but that doesn’t stop the words flying.

  “You piece of shit, you lowlife piece of shit,” Jace roars. “How could you be such a heartless prick?”

  Tazen snarls, baring his teeth and spits. “Fuck off, Jace.”

  “You just kissed her, and she doesn’t know. You conniving pig.”

  What are they talking about? I don’t understand.

  “Jace,” I say softly. “What’s going on?”

  Tazen turns to me and I see it … I see what I saw earlier. Guilt. I blink rapidly, trying to understand.

  “Honey,” Jace says, looking to me. “I’m so sorry.”

  I swallow. “Jace, what’s happened?”

  He looks to Tazen, his eyes hard. “You going to tell her what sort of man you are, or am I?”

  Tazen growls. “You fucker, this could have been done in a kinder way.”

  “Oh.” Jace laughs bitterly. “You mean after you fucked her and had your fun?”

  “Fuck you,” Tazen spits.

  “Can someone just tell me what’s going on?” I scream.

  Everything goes quiet, and all the people around stop talking to turn and watch.

  “He bought the garage, Quinn,” Jace says gently. “I just found out and came to tell you.”

  My knees wobble and my vision blurs. No, he must have it wrong.

  “I…” I whisper, but my voice has retreated to the depths of darkness threatening to swallow me up.

  “Your dad signed it over to him this morning. He got in contact with him, offered a good price and your dad, thinkin’ he was doing the right thing by you, sold it to him without question.”

  No.

  No.

  God, please, no.

  I shake my head, and tears burst free and run down my cheeks.

  “Jace,” I rasp. “This isn’t real … tell me it’s not real?”

  “I’m so sorry honey.”

  My entire body starts to shake as a mass of emotions flood me. Everyone around me becomes a blur as tears explode and my eyes become fuzzy. The sounds of shuffling become louder around me and then I hear his voice, the voice I don’t ever want to hear again.

  “I was going to tell you, angel.”

  “Don’t call me angel,” I scream, swiping my eyes furiously. When I find him, I pin him with a glare so acidic he flinches. “How dare you! I told you what that garage meant to me, and you swept in, using me along the way, while you wrapped your grubby, disgusting hands around it and snatched it out from beneath me.”

  “That isn’t—”

  “Don’t!” I yell. “Don’t give me excuses. You’ve wanted it since you walked in that first day. I should have known all this,” I wave at him, “was a big, disgusting act. You were just distracting me so you could take what’s mine.”

  “It wasn’t yours,” he barks, losing his cool. “And you couldn’t have saved it, you and I both know that. I did you a favor.”

  “A favor?” I laugh so bitterly it hurts. “A fucking favor? How do you suppose you did me a favor? No, you did only yourself a favor. I might not have been able to save that garage, but you owed me at least the chance to try.”

  “Listen, Quinn…”

  “Don’t,” I cry, launching forward and shoving him so hard he’s forced to take a few steps back. “Don’t try and make yourself look better. You’re a dog, and you know it. Worse, you had the balls to kiss me and make out like you actually wanted it. Real, Tazen?” I shake my head. “You wouldn’t know real if it slapped you in the face.”

  “Come on,” Jace says, wrapping an arm around me. “Let’s go.”

  With tears staining my cheeks, I let him turn me.

  “Angel,” Tazen calls.

  I look over my shoulder at him. “This is far from finished.”

  Then, I let Jace lead me away.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “How could you?” I cry, pacing the room.

  My dad is sitting on the couch, staring up at me with a check in his hand for a hundred thousand dollars. He looks confused, like he couldn’t possibly imagine why the hell I’m sad over the loss of the garage. I understand in his fried brain, he thinks he did the right thing. That it was a simple solution, but he failed to think about what the place meant to me.

  And he knows, even in his state. He knows.

  “I told you I’d fix it,” he mutters.

  “Fix it?” I whisper. “That was the only thing I had left. It was the only part of her,” my voice breaks, “we had left.”

  My dad flinches and I know that was a low blow.

  “I…” he stammers. “I was only tryin’ to fix things, Quinnie. I couldn’t stand to see you suffering anymore.”

  My shoulders slump and I drop my head. I can’t be angry at him, not when he thinks that he has just fixed everything. In a way, he has. Our bills can be paid, our mortgage covered and things will ease up. But we have lost something that we can never get back, and that is making my heart ache in a way I can’t turn off.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” I whisper, placing my hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to sort all of this out. Let me put the check in the account.”

  He hesitates, staring at the check promising a large amount of money. He wants it, and I know exactly what he wants it for. I can’t risk that happening, if he gets hold of this kind of money he’ll drink it away before we have the chance to do anything. So, in a gentle voice, I say, “Dad, if you did this for us, then you need to let me put that money away.”

  He sighs and hands me the check, but his hand is shaking as he lets it go. That wasn’t easy for him. I lean down and kiss his head, then I grab my purse and keys, letting him know I’ll be back later. Then I head out to the bank, cash the check and drive down to the garage. We have one week to clear out before Tazen takes over. That isn’t a lot of time.

  I arrive to see people everywhere, not just my guys, but a heap of others. They’re moving out old tools and equipment, and there’s a massive truck bringing in new, shiny things. My blood boils and I throw my car door open, sliding out and storming towards the men who are working. “What the hell are you doing?” I cry.

  A man, pushing an old toolbox, looks to me with confusion. “Clearing out like we’ve been ordered to.”

  “By who?” I demand.

  “By me.”

  I whirl quickly to see Tazen standing with a clipboard in hand. He’s wearing a pair of blue jeans with a black shirt that has a picture of a car on the front. Lame. He’s got shades pulled over his eyes. Anger swirls in my chest.

  “I have a week, you have no right to be in here before then. This is my stuff!”

  He studies me. “What do you plan on doing with it all?”

  Dammit. I don
’t know. But it’s beside the point.

  “It doesn’t matter, it’s mine.”

  “Actually,” he says. “It’s mine. The garage was sold with all the contents.”

  “You’re a piece of work,” I hiss.

  “Listen,” he says, stepping closer. “I did what I did, but business is business, Quinn. So get your things.” He leans in close. “And get out of my garage.”

  I explode, shoving him backwards and turning, storming inside. I shove past people and make it to my team, who are all standing around looking lost. “Chain this shit down, do not let him take it.”

  They all stare at me like I’ve lost my marbles. Hell, maybe I have, but for one week this garage is still in my name. I won’t let him just destroy it.

  “Quinn, sweetheart,” Lenny says gently.

  “No, Lenny,” I whisper. “Don’t you give up on this.”

  “We don’t have a choice, it’s his now.”

  “It’s not his!” I cry, spinning around and charging towards a man carrying out my favorite spanner set. “Put that down!”

  I reach him and slap the spanners right out of his hands. They hit the ground with a loud clank and skitter across the floor. I move to the next man, carrying Lenny’s favorite tool bag. I yank it off his shoulder, causing him to stumble backwards and lose his footing.

  “Fuck me,” Tazen mutters. “Just let her take what’s hers.”

  I spin on him, waving my hands in his face. “Do you even care that you’re taking jobs from these men, men who have families?”

  Tazen’s face gets hard. “If they want a job here, they’re more than welcome to approach me about it. I don’t have a problem with taking on your team, Quinn.”

  “They should have jobs automatically,” I protest. “They’ve made this place what it is.”

  He shakes his head. “Quinn, I understand your hurt, but this is how I do things. If your guys want a job, all they have to do is ask. I will assess their skills and see if they fit any of the positions I have open. What I won’t have is you coming in here and making a scene. Calm it down. Now, I have work to do, so I’d much rather you just leave.”

  I’m panting with rage, but I know he can call the cops if he wants to and I have nothing to fall back on. I turn and march towards the door, shouting, “You haven’t seen the end of this, Tazen Watts.”