Page 11 of Outcast
Wrong thing to say. They swung identical glares my way, and I swear, none of us were related, but in that moment, they’d never looked more like brothers.
“It is a family meal,” Axel said. “But you left this family years ago.”
“Ax, I had to leave. It wasn’t like I didn’t care.”
Axel thrust a box into Bailey’s arms. “Here’s the Hawaiian. I’m taking the meat lovers with me.”
Axel whirled on his heel, headed for the door.
“Is he going back to the junkyard at this hour?” I asked Bailey.
Bailey shrugged. “He sleeps over there.”
“What? Why?”
“He likes it better with the dogs. What do you care? You’ll be gone soon, right?”
Ouch. The kid knew how to twist the knife.
“I don’t know my plans yet.”
A knock came at the door. Without waiting for an answer, it swung open, and a black girl walked inside. Her hair trailed over her shoulders in dozens of braids.
“Hey, Nova.” Bailey smiled, looking sweeter than I’d seen him yet. “I got a Hawaiian.”
“Awesome!” She hesitated when she saw me. “Who is this?”
“Nobody important.”
Well, damn. The hits just kept coming.
“I’m Gray,” I said. “His brother.”
“From a million years ago,” Bailey said.
“Huh,” Nova said. “Well, nice to meet you. You helping out with the auto shop? Bailey works so hard?—”
“Don’t talk to him,” Bailey said. “He’s not worth the effort.”
She frowned, a crease forming between her brows.
“I’ll work at the shop,” I answered because it was nice forsomeoneto talk to me without animosity. “I’m a decent mechanic, but mostly with bikes.”
“Oh.”
A strained silence gathered. I racked my brain for something to say, some way to bridge the gulf between me and Bailey.
A phone rang, saving me the trouble.
Bailey went to the front table, where it sat on a charger. He pulled it off and tossed it at me.
I fumbled to catch it, fingers clutching it before it hit the floor.
“That’s the auto shop line. You wanna help so bad? Get started.”
With a frown, I answered the call. “Forrester &—”
“I need a tow,” a woman interrupted. “I called that other place, the nice one in town, but they want two hundred dollars! I’m not made of money.”
