Page 110 of Ensnared

Tryingto ignore the stinging hurt in my chest,Ifollow afterDom.

Chapter26

Jaykob

Survivaltip #138

Ifthey think the worst of you,

be worse than that.

Iswing the door shut on the washing machine and place my tools back in their holsters.Ittakes longer thanI’dlike—allIwant to do is turn it on and see if it works—but discarding tools just anywhere is how you lose them.

Workingat my uncle’s car yard growing up,Isaw plenty of sloppy mechanics losing their tools, or treating them so rough they were no good to anyone, and it ain’t like any of us had the cash to just go buy replacements.Youtake care of your tools, and they’ll take care of you.Itapplies for a wrench or blowtorch as much as it did for my weapons afterIenlisted with my brother.

Iscowl against the ache in my chest—the one that sucker punches me every timeIthink aboutRyan—and glare at the tumble washer.I’vebeen working on it for two damn weeks and haven’t been able to fix it.I’mactually regretting the whole monthIwas “too busy” to look at it.Itwas funny when his royal highness was the one spending hours cleaning my socks, but now that it’sEden...

Whatever, it doesn’t matter to me if she scrubs her fingers raw.I’mjust usually quicker at fixing this shit, and it’s starting to piss me off.

Theguys are on my ass about it too—every one of them grilled me about it this week.Funnyhow they all managed to ask about the washing machine and didn’t give me one single word of apology.ExceptforJasper, but since he spent the whole time lecturing me about “not retaliating” and finding “appropriate ways to manage my anger,”I’mnot counting it.

Idumped a bucket of engine grease down the back of his fancy shirt.

Thatseemed to manage my anger pretty good.

Screwthem all, anyway.OnedayI’mbeating up on big-eyed librarians, and the nextI’mtheir fix-it guy again?They’reluckyIdidn’t torch the stupidPlayboymansion from under them.

It’snot like any of them offered to help, either.

Shedid, though.

Toolssecured,Iturn back and hold my breath, hovering over the switch.Ifthis doesn’t do it...Iflick the switch to “ON” and wait for the telltale lighting up of the small screen.

Nothing.

“Uselessgoddamnedjunk!”Frustrationspills over, andIkick the broken thing hard, denting the metal door.Adent thatI’malso going to have to fix. “Nogood toanyone.”

Iyank my wrench out of my side pocket, not sure ifIwant to go back in or just start beating on it. “Stupidson of a—”

“Hey,I’msure the machine’s mama was a nice lady.”

Myhead drops back.Iclench my teeth together and count to ten in my head.Don’tbash his head in.Itain’t worth the wrench.

“Youknow, likes a tumble, always wet.”

Iup my counting to twenty.Shouldn’thave left my pistol in my room.

“Plus, she could probably take a real big lo—”

“Getout.”Iyank the dented door open and get back down.

Luckylaughs, ignoring me as per fucking usual.

Hecrouches down beside me, blocking my light. “Isit working yet?”

Ishove him back so he overbalances.Thelight clears up, andIgrunt in satisfaction.Iput away the wrench and reach for the screwdrivers;Ineed to take the panel back out.

“Guessthat’s a no, huh?”

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