Page 44 of Redeeming Rabbit

“My lil’ brother’s car was broken, so I... I was fixin’ it, but my big brother, he… he took it away. He said girls can’t fix cars. It made me angry, so I punched him. AndIgot in trouble. But he… he shouldn’t have said that.”

Missy Mae was always indignant about something, but I understood her tone in this case.

“You know, Rabbit there is our head mechanic.” Havoc gestured to me. “What do you say, brother? Can girls be mechanics?”

“Ff-for sure. Some of the best mechanics in the business are women. If you wanna work on cars, you da—ang well should. Do well in school, do some time in the service, get ASE certified, and then come see me. I’ll hire you.”

The smile Missy Mae beamed at me warmed the hole where my heart used to live and made me think I might need to make that job opening in a decade or two.

“Thank you, Rabbit. Who’s next?” Havoc scanned the raised hands, calling on a boy who’d insisted on the road name Buster Brown. He told us that was what his favorite uncle used to call him.

Elenore was an aunt.

I wonder if she wants kids someday.

The thought came out of left field, blindsiding me. Before that moment, I’d never even considered having a spawn of my own. But now I couldn’t stop imagining an adorable little brunette girl with her momma’s ever-changing hazel eyes. She would be cute as sin and probably just as dangerous.

Too bad she wouldn’t be mine.

My chest suddenly felt too goddamn tight. Desperate for a distraction, I tugged my phone from my pocket and opened the messaging app. I intended to message Rose and see what sort of trouble she was planning to get into this weekend, but a different name caught my attention, and I couldn’t resist. I clicked on the thread and re-read the last two messages sent.

Postal

Are you okay?

When that text hit my phone, I hadn’t received it since I’d been sitting in a jail cell after being arrested by Seattle’s finest right outside Elenore’s apartment. It was a misunderstanding that had led to an episode but, at the time, had driven home my unsuitability to be Elenore’s man. Well, that and her referring to the best day of my goddamn life as stupid.

“You don’t love me. You can’t. It’s too soon.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I tap, tap, tapped on my thigh, trying to lower the volume of Elenore’s voice in my head. I refused to mute it—even if I could—because even now, it was still my favorite sound.

The second text came three days ago and has been fucking with my head ever since.

Postal

I miss you and hope you’re doing well.

My guts twisted into a compound knot just thinking about it. What the hell did she mean, she missed me? I lost my head and got emotional, and she kicked my ass out. Then, after we both went radio silent for weeks, she messaged to tell me she missed me? What the fuck was I supposed to do with that? I still couldn’t believe I’d dropped the love bomb. Yes, I’d been overwhelmed with emotions at the time, but what the fuck happened to playing it cool? Why did I have to be such a goddamn fuckup? Had I just kept my big mouth shut, I’d probably still be in her bed, my face between her legs.

I could still taste her on my tongue.

My phone almost slipped from my hand when it buzzed with an incoming text. My pulse spiked, then dropped again. It wasn’t her.

Morse

Stop by my office when you get back.

My first instinct was to send him a middle finger emoji, but I refrained. Mostly because Havoc had finished speaking, and it was time to go. In a daze—like I had been since I’d bolted from Elenore’s bed—I followed my brothers out of the preschool. Since downtown parking was sparse and cost an arm and a leg, we’d left our bikes back at the club. While we hoofed it the three blocks home, I considered ignoring Morse’s demand and heading back to the shop. But I had the day off and nothing else to do. Left to my own devices, I’d only obsess over Elenore. Well, even more than I already did. So, I popped into Morse’s office. He was alone, sitting at his computer, but stood when I entered.

“Hey.” He pushed in his chair, considered it, and then settled his hand on the back of it. Expression unreadable, he said, “Get the door, will ya?”

Having never seen him look so nervous, my curiosity was piqued. I reached back and closed us in. “What’s goin’ on?”

He leaned a hip against his desk, eyeing me like he was sizing me up. “I need a favor.”

“Okay?”

“A friend has been having some engine trouble. I need you to take a look at her Audi.”

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