Page 3 of Astrid
“And burn down the house?” Alan asked as he took John’s hand in his, and inspected the finger John had just smashed with his hammer. “This is going to need to be fixed.”
“What?” John looked down and watched as the blood pooled in the end of his finger, turning the nail black. He knew what had to be done, and sighed heavily. “Okay, but outside, not in here.” He looked at the studs and the wires on the ground for the heated floors they would be putting in.
Outside John and all of his brothers came out with him, along with Chuck. Not only was Chuck their best friend, but he was the foreman to many of the jobs John and Josh did for their construction business. John waited while Alan ran into the house and retrieved the first aid kit, then off to the side, away from any foot traffic, Alan took John’s hand in his, and looked at his older brother.
“Ready?”
“Just do it,” John said between gritted teeth, put his good hand behind his back, and closed his eyes. There was no way in hell he’d watch his brother shove the needle beneath his fingernail to relieve the pressure building. He endured what he could, then let out a scream,“Son of a fucking bitch!”For some reason he gripped the screwdriver he felt in his back pocket, and flung it toward the road in his anger and pain. Maybe it would help him blow off steam when he had to go find it in the muddy muck, and undergrowth from the direction he threw it.
“Oops,” one of John’s brother’s said, and when John opened his eyes to see where everyone was looking, he stared in shock as he found his screwdriver.
“Oh shit,” John said as he jerked his hand from Alan’s, and headed toward the ugly, dark olive-green Jeep that just pulled in. Behind him, he heard one of his brothers open the door and bellow for Joyce, and John shook his head when he realized he wouldn’t have to go far to look for the screwdriver he threw, because he had embedded it into the front tire of the Jeep.
CHAPTER2
Astrid had followedthe directions on her GPS, and slowed down to pull into the driveway of her destination. The terrain was so rough, she had to downshift into first gear, and white knuckle the wheel in order to keep the Jeep steady. She was so distracted from seeing the house, and the men standing off to the side, it took her a few seconds to realize that it looked like someone had thrown something at her. She cranked the wheel, closed her eyes, then opened them, and stared at them in shock.
Slamming her Jeep in neutral, she whipped open her door, and stormed out of the vehicle. She met a man halfway to the house.
“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry,” the man said, “Are you okay?” When he went to reach for her, she jerked back away from him and pointed.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I said I was sorry, I didn’t mean to throw the screwdriver.”
“Not that, I’ll admit it was pretty dangerous, but you,” she pointed to his hand, and watched as the man lifted it, and when he saw the blood pouring out the end of it, he turned several shades paler, and Astrid stepped up, caught him, and helped him to the ground, then she forced his head between his knees. On her own knees beside him, she whispered, “Breathe, easy in, easy out.” She repeated it several times, and finally saw the color come back into his face. Only then did she let up on the pressure she had on the back of his neck. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly, and caught sight of the most handsome man she’d ever seen. He was so close, she could practically watch the hair on his chin and cheeks grow.
“The question is—” the man’s voice ran down her spine, and gave her tingles that she hadn’t experienced in a long, long time, causing her nipples to harden. “—are you okay? I didn’t mean to throw that screwdriver at you.” The man frowned, then sighed. “Well, I did mean to throw it, just not at you.” When he chuckled, Astrid’s girly parts woke up after being dormant for a long time. “At least I won’t have to dig in the mud and muck to find it. I’m so sorry.”
“What are you talking about? Did you hit your head when you hurt your hand?” She frowned at him, and looked over her shoulder when he pointed. She looked back at him with wide eyes. “Is that a screwdriver in mytire?” She jumped to her feet, slapped her fisted hands on her hips, and glared down at him. “Are you freaking crazy? What if it had gone through my windshield? You could have killed me!” She cocked her head to the side with a huge frown. “Wait, why are you throwing tools?”
Three women came up and stood before the men, and Astrid frowned at them, especially when the one in the middle used two fingers and flicked them at the man’s temple, he jerked back just before she made contact, and her fingers glanced off his forehead instead.
“Please, forgive my brother, he’s having a bad day, and it seems like he’s taking it out on your Jeep. If the tire’s not flat, why don’t you drive it over to the garage.” The woman spoke and Astrid’s mouth dropped open when she saw the gigantic building called the garage, then frowned when another woman broke off, and went over to inspect the damage done to her tire.
“Do you have a spare?”
“In the back.”
“Okay, I can get this changed with some help, my tire changing machine hasn’t arrived yet, but it’s due next week.”
“Who are you people?”
“The important question is, who are you?” the other female asked. “We’re only expecting one person and we wonder if it’s you.”
“Who are you expecting?”
“Asteroid.” The woman wiping her hands on a red rag grinned.
“Rizzo?” Astrid asked in shock, then turned to the others. “Yes, I’m Astrid Montoya. I’m here to see Morgan Stuart.”
“That’s me,” the woman who had flicked her finger at the man still on the ground grinned. She stepped forward and held out her hand. “Welcome to Boswell Two, let me introduce you to everyone, then we can get you settled.”
“Wait, I don’t know whether I’m staying or not. You didn’t really give me a lot of information to work with, and what you did give me sounds too good to be true.”
“It’s true,” Joyce said, and came up and threw an arm around her shoulders. With the hand still holding the rag, she began to point to the others. “Morgan Stuart, our boss, she only comes over here to work, she lives a couple miles down the road with her fiancé. Next to her is Ava Hanson, she was a sniper when she was an EWM. Then there’s me, I was my team’s mechanic. I’m in charge of the garage here.” She paused long enough to throw her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the garage. “The man with his hands on Ava’s shoulders is her boyfriend, Justin Stuart.” She laughed then stepped back and grinned at Astrid.
“This next part gets confusing, so you’re going to need to pay attention.”
