Page 4 of Live Love Steal (Destroyers MC: Skilletsville PA #2)

The good kind - Isobel

S ketch was the good kind of bad boy. He had all the stories from a misspent youth tattooed on his skin, but his eyes spoke a different tale. They were focused, intelligent… and glued to my ass. I put extra sway in my gait to give him a show.

“ Iz ? Get behind me.”

I looked around, wondering what was wrong. Then I saw the broken glass of my rear passenger window, the plastic of my steering column hanging off, and the wires dangling from the gaping hole exposed.

“ You’ve got to be kidding me!” Could the day get any worse?

“ What did I do to deserve this? I pay my taxes. I don’t kick dogs.

I’m just…” I wanted to rant longer, but ran out of things to say that weren’t a string of curse words.

One stood out because Sketch mentioned it earlier.

And I was rethinking my ban on it. If only it applied to car thieves without sounding completely sexist, I would’ve used it right about then.

“ Stand over here.” Sketch pulled me between the row and sandwiched me against an SUV before he circled my car and peered in from the other side. “ Looks like they couldn’t knock the ignition loose. Did you get a recall on this lately?”

“ Yes . But Dad installed an immobilizer. I thought that was all I needed.” But I’d neglected to use the steering wheel lock sitting on the passenger seat. Sketch picked it up.

His eyes met mine through the driver’s side window. It was almost the same look my dad sent me whenever I was late for an oil change.

And … crap . I was due for one of those—and the accompanying family dinner. This weekend was going to be… interesting .

Totally the wrong word. It would be a suck fest. Maybe I could divert some of the lecture about maintaining my vehicle if I mentioned Audrey’s rescue? Of course, then she’d hate me for bringing up the asshole, and there’d be a big fight where she’d storm off and Mom would blame me. “ I can’t win.”

“ Hey , it’s still here. The immobilizer worked. I got parts to fix the steering column. And if they aren’t a match, the club runs a junkyard. There’s bound to be what I need somewhere.”

I didn’t know what to address first. “ Junkyard ? You’re a mechanic?” I glanced down at his fingernails. I hadn’t noticed before, but there was the familiar partial ring of black grime embedded around the edges that never quite disappeared, no matter how deep you dug. Dad’s hands were the same way.

“ More of a body work guy, but I know my way around.”

“ Wait … club?”

He looked away. His expression was… guilt? “ The Destroyers .”

Holy fuck. No , wait… holy fucking cunt fuck shit.

That combo was applicable for this. Little sis had nothing on me now.

I’d been ogling a Destroyer ? A member of one of the most vicious motorcycle gangs in the region?

Heck , I think they were the ONLY gang in town because they ran everyone else off.

Rumor had it one of them raped the former mayor’s daughter.

Another rumor said they supplied all the drugs anyone moved through the region.

And then there were the disappearances that happened around them. Get on their bad side and you were just… gone. Never to be seen again.

Sketch noted my silence. “ I see you’ve heard of us.”

“ I don’t know how to answer that.”

He grinned. Grinned , like it was a badge of honor or something. My white knight of the elevator, a father, mechanic, and all-around helpful guy, was…

Huh . Maybe he wasn’t as bad as the rumors? Then again, he knew exactly how far someone got with hot-wiring my car.

Mentally , I was kicking myself. I’d just extracted Audrey from an awful relationship with a gang member. What was I doing?

He walked around the car and stared at the back bumper. “ How’d that happen? You lose a fight?”

“ Backed into a parked car.”

His eyebrows went up. “ Did you report it?”

I closed my mouth rather than lie.

One corner of his smile quirked up. “ You’re a bit of a rebel, aren’t you?”

“ It wasn’t like that.”

“ No ? Who’d you back into?”

That I wasn’t afraid to answer. In fact, it might get me some answers of my own. “ My sister backed into her ex-boyfriend’s car. You might know him, Victor King . He also goes by?—”

“ I know who you’re talking about.” He glanced at the courthouse.

“ Who in their right mind would try to steal a car from a courthouse parking lot?” Which was why I hadn’t used the wheel lock. That , and running late.

“ You’d be surprised,” Sketch muttered. “ I can fix this, too.” He pointed at my bumper.

I shook my head. “ As much as that’s awesome, and really nice of you, I gotta get going. My boss is waiting for me to return to work.”

Sketch stepped to the side. “ Be my guest. Try to start it.” He motioned to my poor, abused car.

“ It isn’t going to, is it?”

He tried to hide it, but there was something devious going on inside his head.

He probably knew exactly how to get my car started and was just playing with me.

I crawled in and put my key in the ignition.

It wouldn’t budge. It even stuck a little as I yanked it back out.

The cylinder came with the key. I swore under my breath and worked the stuck key loose.

“ Are you going to call a tow truck?” Sketch stood in the gap where I’d left my door open.

Close enough to touch, but keeping enough distance that I didn’t feel claustrophobic.

He had one hand on the hood of my car, the other resting on the door frame.

He was backlit by the sun as I tried and failed to look him in the eye.

Defeat . That’s the stage I was at. I pulled out my phone and texted my boss. Telling him I wasn’t going to be in for the rest of the day. Car trouble.

My ringer blared out almost immediately. I let it go for at least two full rings before answering. I closed my eyes and mustered up a weak, “ Hello ?”

“ Isobel , I know you’re lying. I don’t know why you think it is okay to take the day off before a major presentation, but I’ll tell you this—your job is on the line.

If we don’t land that client tomorrow, I will hold you personally responsible.

Send me the presentation notes. Now .” I glared at the phone for a moment.

Then managed to compose myself enough to soften my tone.

“ I sent them in an email at eight PM last night. I’ll resend if you don’t have them.” There . Helpful , but not too helpful.

There was a pause.

Sketch leaned in, concern pushing his brows together. He mouthed, “ Dick ” so clearly, I almost laughed. Then he surprised the hell out of me. “ Ma’am , did you call for a tow?”

“ Jamie , the tow truck driver is here. Did you get the presentation?” So what if I was lying? At this point, Sketch was my mechanical lifeline. There was no need to call a tow truck driver with a competent mechanic close enough to touch.

“ I’m going to review these notes. Are you going to be available in an hour?”

“ I’ll make myself available. Call me when you’re ready.”

“ Make sure you answer.” The phone went dead.

“ That man does not deserve you.” Sketch held out a hand to help me out of the car. I pocketed the phone and leaned on him to exit the car.

“ If it doesn’t start, what then?”

“ Then I call a tow truck. Griz owes me.”

“ Griz ?”

“ He’s a road brother. He’s also on duty today at the junkyard. The one the Destroyers run.”

I opened and shut my mouth. Then settled on, “ Thank you. I appreciate this.”

He moved me out of his way and curled into the car, sliding the seat as far back as it would go.

He twisted his body around and hung a leg out the door to get under the column.

One hard slam, and the rest of the key cylinder fell free, dangling by its wires.

Sketch pulled out a USB cord from his pocket. “ Hand me your key, please?”

I did.

He put it in the reassembled loose ignition collar and then twisted the exposed pin with the fatter end of the USB .

“ This will work, but if you get pulled over, there will be trouble explaining it to the cops. You might want to take me up on calling Griz . We can get all of it fixed for you in a couple of days.”

“ I don’t know if you overheard my conversation, but I need my car tomorrow. Big presentation.” I made a face while saying it like my boss had.

Sketch climbed out. “ Your boss? He’s a douchebag.”

“ Can you teach me how to start my car like you did?”

“ I’ll do you one better. Follow me. I’ll fix it.”

“ What if I stall out or…?”

“ I’ll follow you.” He rattled off an address. I put it into my phone’s navigation app. “ Wait here while I get my car.”

A few minutes later, a black SUV pulled up behind my car. Sketch rolled down the window. “ You good?”

I nodded. He backed up far enough that I could pull out.

Then he kept on my tail the whole way. I pulled into a half-paved parking lot between two buildings.

Both looked abandoned. The one outside the fence was in better shape than the blocky, flat-roofed business attached to the lot.

There was only one bay door that faced the street.

Graffiti was scrawled across the wall facing the parking lot. It looked like a chop shop.

Not that I’d ever visited one. But I’d followed Dad around enough as a kid to know a garage when I saw one. “ Is this where you work?”

Sketch grinned. “ Work , eat, sleep…live, fuck, laugh… you name it. Come on in.”

I turned the cord dangling from my steering column. It worked just like my key. Sucky design. Dad warned me about buying one of these brands. He said they cut too many corners. Looking at the damage, I had to admit he was right. I locked the car out of habit. “ Why did I do that?”

The broken passenger side window faced the street. Practically begging someone to finish the job.

“ Will it be okay here?”

“ It will be fine. I’ll pull it into the bay once I get my bike out.” He pointed to the street-facing garage. “ I park here all the time. No one is going to mess with it. I promise.”