Page 4 of Tabitha

When I step into my garage, I close the door behind me, breathing deeply of the grease and metallic smell that lingers in the air. I grab my welder’s apron, put on my welding helmet, then pull the tanks over and adjust the acetylene and oxygen to the correct mixture to make the orange flame dance to just the right temperature. With a quick bob of my head, the shield snaps down to cover my face, and I get to work cutting the steel into the premeasured pieces for my current project—a steel box with a security lock, so a drone can deliver secure content.

I’m not aware of time passing until I smell the deliciousness that is chai tea, a special blend I only drink when I need something to cheer me up. I turn off the tanks, wrap up the welding cable, then yank off my helmet, my long hair spilling around me.

When I finally turn, I’m not surprised to see Pierce messing with my workbench, touching my tools. I march over to him, grab the wrench from his hand, and put it right back where I left it. No one touches my shit. Everything has a specific spot, and I hate when people mess with my system. “What are you doing here?”

Though Pierce is intruding in my space, I can’t resist the lure of the chai tea and take a sip of the heavenly brew. I glance up at him over the rim of the mug. When his lips twitch slightly, I narrow my gaze. Just when I open my mouth to demand he leave, he distracts me by pushing a piece of gooey chocolate my way.

It’s something only Karma could make.

“Where did you get that?” I demand, unable to take my eyes off the tiny treat, my mouth watering as the smell of chocolate hits my taste buds.

“I might or might not have asked Karma to make you a batch,” Pierce says, and I shiver at the dark, raspy tone of his voice.

I bite my lip, knowing I shouldn’t accept anything he has to offer, but he’s wearing me down. He keeps bringing food and drinks into my shop, even after I tell him to stop. I accidentally ate the food once, thinking Karma had sent it. Now, I can’t seem to get him to stop trying to feed me. The jerk invades my space at all times of day and night and leave plates and dishes everywhere when I’m trying to work.

I would almost suspect him of spying…if I bothered to acknowledge him when he visits.

He even comes to my shop and tinkers with his bike or car. He might be our driver, but the garage is my domain.

Of course, I have no choice but supervise him, just to make sure he’s doing it correctly.

Nothing leaves my shop without my approval.

I would never be able to live it down if something left my garage and it didn’t work.

My stomach grumbles, and I bite my lip to keep from demanding my chocolate. Karma only started making that hot fudge brownie for me after I almost grabbed one of her poison cakes once. After that incident, she made sure I had my own supply.

Ever since she moved out, my chocolate cravings have gotten out of hand.

Nothing tastes as good.

“Unless you don’t want it,” he taunts, lifting the plate to his nose and inhaling deeply.

Before he’s even finished speaking, I snatch the plate away, hunch over it like Gollum, and shovel the whole damn thing into my mouth. It’s been weeks since I tasted her food, and I’ve been going through withdrawals. An embarrassing number of takeout boxes are piling up in the corner.

The chocolate high hits immediately, allowing me to ignore the way Pierce stares at me so boldly. The bliss only lasts for a few seconds before I break. I don’t even pause chewing as I savor the warm, gooey deliciousness and ask, “What?”

I swear, if he tries to take back my food, I will make him bleed and smile while doing it.

I can’t believe I’m going to say it, but I miss Ivory, my chatty little shadow. I refuse to admit it out loud, but she was the perfect little chaperone to keep Pierce in check. With her gone, every time I turn, I keep tripping over Pierce like he’s some overgrown puppy.

He clears his throat, running a hand down his tie. “Man would like to see you.”

“What?” I swallow, my mouth suddenly bone-dry, the lump of chocolate goodness getting stuck in my throat. “Why the hell wouldn’t you start with that?”

I’m so furious that I could bash him over the head with the tire iron hanging on my wall. Instead, I grab the hot tea and gulp down the scalding liquid as I head toward the door, wishing it had something stronger in it.

Man only calls us to his office for two reasons—either I’m in trouble, or he has a job for me. Unfortunately, in my case, it’s usually more of the first, rather than the second. He’s always trying to get me to leave my workshop and do people-y stuff.

I’d take killing someone over that any day.

Chapter Two

TABITHA

As I stand before the office door, I swipe my sweaty palms against my jeans, then slowly lift my hand to knock. I can’t get over the impression that Man has somehow discovered I’ve been spying on Pierce.

He didn’t exactly forbid it in so many words, but it was implied.

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