Page 3 of Twisted Chassis (Foggy Basin)

Peace Offering

In hindsight, his approach with Haven and River at the shop might have been a tad aggressive but seeing his baby in pieces had torn holes in the hard-won patience he’d had to learn after leaving the Marauding Demons. As an enforcer, he was used to glaring at people over the tops of his shades and laughing inside as they tripped all over themselves scurrying around to get shit done. River hadn’t jumped. He hadn’t scurried. And he sure as fuck hadn’t gotten out of Maddox’s way until Haven had given the okay.

Haven hadn’t scurried either, but he had flinched and that half-step back he’d taken when Maddox had raised his voice hadn’t been lost on him, nor had the way the young man had avoided making eye contact with him for longer than a few fleeting seconds. They were mesmerizing though, his eyes, the blue as bright as the Caribbean Sea he’d gone for his first cruise on just a few months before. He’d never forget that color and how endlessly vast it had looked the first time he’d laid eyes on it. Now he’d never forget Haven’s eyes and the effort it had taken him to meet his.

The young man wasn’t what he’d expected.

The few times Archer had talked about his brother and the six-year bit he’d been in the middle of, had been fleeting, his tone pained with an edge of disappointment. For that reason alone, Maddox had expected some hardcore bastard, mouthy with too much attitude for his age, which Archer had said was younger than his own twenty-nine years. He hadn’t said how much younger though or told him anything else about Haven besides that he was in prison.

Haven couldn’t be more than twenty-three and that was pushing it. If he’d done six years that put him in juvie to start, there was no way around it. That some edge of shyness and uncertainty still lingered in those eyes and his cautious expression told Maddox that someone had protected the kid on the inside and seen to it that he didn’t have to toughen up too much. It seemed unlikely that he’d had extra time added onto his sentence. Archer would probably have mentioned something about that even if just in a passing fit of temper.

Maddox recalled the first year Archer worked for him and the scraps he was constantly getting into in his free time. No arrests though and he’d always shown up for work a little early, even if it looked like he’d just taken a nap in a blender. It seemed more likely that someone had made sure Haven didn’t fall into the trap so many others did, of committing crimes on the inside and landing themselves a whole bunch of additional charges that extended their stays.

The vulnerability he’d seen there had been surprising, as had the shyness that had left Haven’s cheeks pinking up the one time their gazes had locked, and he’d managed to hold steady for a moment before looking away. Interest sparked in Haven’s eyes for a brief second, quickly shuttered by caution. For a moment, Maddox had been certain the young man was going to tell him that he couldn’t fix his Harley and order him out of the shop.

Instead, Haven admitted to being capable and went on to start diagnosing the repairs his Electra Glide was going to need before she was roadworthy again. Haven’s honesty had been refreshing too. He hadn’t swaggered around acting like the work was going to be a piece of cake and he hadn’t simply glanced at the wreckage and declared she’d be a waste of time and effort. He’d assessed and carefully considered everything it would entail, and he’d understood without it needing to be said that Maddox wanted original parts to replace the destroyed ones, not fabricated replicas. Maddox had left the shop confident that he was leaving his baby in good hands.

However, the almost dispassionate and emotionless reunion between siblings had left him with questions that Archer had sidestepped every inch of the way back to the bank. He hadn’t even come inside with him, preferring to wait in the truck with the windows rolled down and whatever app he’d been fiddling with. Avoidance was Archer’s trademark response to uncomfortable situations. Maddox had learned that even before he’d taken the young man under his wing and agreed to mentor him. His one saving grace had always been his innovative spirit. He could brainstorm like no one else Maddox had ever met, filling pages with thoughts and ideas that, when bounced off Maddox, often led to even more outrageous and lucrative concepts. Those innovations had rapidly become the basis for the specialty THC and CBD infused grocery store and outdoor market they intended to open. That was the other reason Maddox had been so open to the location when Archer had proposed it, especially once he’d learned of the family connection with the dispensary and the lower than wholesale prices they’d been able to offer him.

Of course, the reason behind it had also played into his willingness to take a chance on Foggy Basin. River and Meadow were, in many ways, their own supplier, with greenhouses located on their family’s property several miles out of town. It wasn’t easy to find the place either, something Maddox could appreciate when they’d taken him out there for a tour. Their folks had been the offspring of hippies, raised in a commune and carrying that free-spirited way of living to Foggy Basin where they’d raised some unique kids, if River, Archer, and Meadow were any indication.

Haven he couldn’t get a full read on. His coveralls hid any body art he might have, and his face and ears had been devoid of piercings, though that was as likely due to having just been released from prison as anything else. A little taller than River, he’d still been almost a foot shorter than Maddox’s own six-foot six-inch fame. Where Archer was slim like River, Haven had some bulk to him and every bit of it looked solid and compact, like a running back, though Archer claimed Haven had never played sports back in high school. He must have hit the weights hard out in the yard to keep that look with the shitty quality of commissary and chow that was typically offered. That took dedication and discipline, two traits Maddox could appreciate.

Now, as he knocked on the bay doors of the shop with two hoagies in a brown paper sack and cold sodas to accompany them, he hoped he was about to be given his first bit of good news all day.

The rumble of the door rising to admit him proceeded a view of his baby having been stripped of several parts already, but he could still see them, on a cloth lined table behind the bike, all lined up neatly beneath a clipboard hanging from a chain. Haven stood just inside the door, eying him just as cautiously has he had earlier.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Maddox said. “I brought hoagies from the shop next door to the bank. Figured I might as well hear the news about my girl on a full stomach.”

Haven’s eyes lit up at that. “Oh man, hoagies from The Blue Star Diner? That place was always awesome. How much do I owe you?”

“Not a goddamned thing,” Maddox said as he crossed the bay to get a closer look at his Harley while Haven headed for the degreaser and started cleaning his hands.

“Ignition coil and spark plug damage were the main cause of her not starting,” Haven explained as he continued cleaning up.

“Wait, you have her starting again, already?”

“No, sorry. She turns over now, but she runs rough, like somethings wrong in her guts. There’s a lot of grinding. Not sure what’s causing it yet, but I’m sure I’ll have to dig broken bits out of something once I start going through her components. Fortunately, the repair manuals and diagnostic schematics have all been digitalized, making it a bit easier to start eliminating potential issues.”

“Hey, don’t apologize for progress, that’s better than I expected. Honestly, after the day I’ve had, it’s exactly what I needed to hear,” Maddox admitted. “I know I came off like an asshole earlier and for that I’m sorry. This old girl has seen me through a lot and I’m not ashamed to admit that there is a hell of a lot of sentimental value wrapped up in all that metal. She’s not just a machine to me.”

“She’s more like an extension of who you are,” Haven muttered, head ducked as his cheeks flushed a little.

“Exactly. See, you get it.”

His words elicited an honest to god smile, as the caution in Haven’s eyes finally began to dim. He dragged a second chair over to the wooden table in the corner where a four pack of chocolate chip muffins sat, one compartment empty, beside a small bottle of apple juice. He moved both off to the side while Maddox set the drinks and hoagies on the table alongside the bottle of Jack Daniels he’d picked up from the liquor store.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a stiff drink after the day I’ve had.”

“I…umm,” Haven stammered, shrugging and squirming and looking all kinds of adorably uncomfortable.

“Problem?” Maddox asked, realizing, belatedly, that there was a very real chance that while he was free, he might still be on probation and unable to indulge in anything, though if that was the case, he doubted he’d be able to work there when the three businesses: repair shop, gas station and dispensary, were in the same building.

“Never had the hard stuff before,” Haven admitted reluctantly. “The most I’ve ever drank were a few beers and a couple hard ciders.”

Well, that was an unexpected twist. Even knowing he’d been a juvenile when he’d been locked up hadn’t given Maddox a reason to pause when he’d picked the bottle, after all, he’d gotten into his old man’s liquor cabinet before he’d been old enough to get his learners permit, just like most of the kids he’d run around with. He’d never once considered that Haven hadn’t, especially not with the trouble he’d gotten himself into.

Yet another question to add to the list piling up in his head, but the last thing he intended to do was start grilling his new mechanic. He’d save the questions for when he was back at the apartment he and Archer were currently sharing. Right now, he was rethinking his offering as much as Haven seemed to be thinking about whether he wanted a taste of it or not.

Haven sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m curious, but I never liked the way I felt when I was drunk. Weed was always a different story; I’d smoke a little and dial into whatever it was I was trying to take apart or put back together. Pops would have to order me to go to bed so I wouldn’t be a pain in the ass in the morning, his words, not mine. Mine were always complaints about why I couldn’t drop out when all I really wanted to do was come to the shop with him every morning.”

“Here?” Maddox asked.

Haven nodded. “Yup. I practically grew up here. Mom ran the gas station, and the dispensary side was a liquor store. My folks rented the space out to the people who ran it, and they lived upstairs in the apartment River and I are living in now. The school we went to is just three blocks away. Every time I cut, which was more times than I could keep count of, I’d wind up here. It got to be a game between me and Pops to see how long I could work on something before he realized that I was there.”

“What’s the longest you went?”

“Fouty-seven minutes. I was elbows deep in an old Chevy Nova when he tapped me on the shoulder and asked which class I’d walked out on that time.”

“And which one was it?”

“Western Civilization,” Haven replied once he’d finished chewing the bite he’d taken from his sandwich. “Ohhhh yum. Holy shit, this is better than I remember. How’d you know I liked garlic aioli on my turkey club instead of mayonnaise?”

Haven hummed happily as he took another bite, eyelids drooping to half-mast as he let out a contented little sigh. It took Maddox a moment to realize that what was causing the little table to rock was Haven kicking his feet while he chewed.

The first thought that entered Maddox’s mind was sinfully adorable , then he berated himself for the lustful images that popped in his head while he stared at his mentee’s younger brother

“Archer told me.”

All softness and vulnerability faded, replaced by a ridged spine and an immediate halt to his feet swinging. Even Haven’s sounds of appreciation fell silent in the wake of Maddox’s announcement, one he could have kicked himself for making the moment the words left his mouth.

“How do you know each other?” Haven asked, a wariness having crept into those watchful turquoise eyes, leaving him looking guarded and a little troubled as he started picking at his sandwich.

“It tastes better when it’s all together,” Maddox commented when Haven pulled a tomato slice from between the meat and took a bite, his gaze on something just to the left of Maddox’s head.

Another time, another place and Maddox would have turned, hand automatically reaching for his inner vest pocket to remove whatever weapon he had hidden there. Now, though, he saw it for what it was: Haven attempting to keep his head up while still being able to avoid making eye contact.

When he plucked a pickle free, Maddox decided to drop the issue for now and give him answers before he disassembled the whole hoagie.

“Your brother came into my shop about five years ago looking for a job,” Maddox admitted. “He had no skills relating to the business, but he knew every damned strain of weed, what it did, its strength and what previous strains it was derived from. I still had to look up most of that shit when I was developing a product, but he was like a walking encyclopedia. I decided to teach him what I needed him to know to man the storefront. In exchange, he saved me a lot of time with his knowledge. He took to my instructions like a pig to mud and has never made me regret taking the time to teach him.”

He had Haven’s attention, though that poor hoagie was rapidly being reduced to just toasted bread. Still, Maddox decided to forge ahead and keep telling the story, pleased that Haven was at least nibbling on the components of his sandwich.

“When we outgrew that first store and moved into a bigger building where we were finally able to hire employees, I made him the manager. It freed me up to keep creating new varieties of the products we already sold, while also developing new merchandise to feature in the shop. We built a loyal customer base. By keeping things fresh and constantly changing up our line to reflect the shifting seasons, we grew to the point where we decided that Charles and Gemma, the married couple who’d been working there for years, should be promoted to managers. Then they doubled down and bought in, just like Archer, which made all three of them part owners in the company. Charles and Gemma will continue to tend to the old store while we kickstart a new one here.”

“Does that mean you guys will be leaving once you’ve found someone to turn this store over to?” Haven asked.

The question was part curious, part hesitant and said with a wistfulness that was impossible to miss. Whatever damage existed between the siblings, Haven still sounded like a kid brother hoping the older sibling he looked up to wouldn’t be going off and staying away for long.

“No,” Maddox said, studying him as Haven nibbled at the edge of a piece of lettuce like a rabbit seeing out the juiciest bite. “I liked what I saw when I came to Foggy Basin. Out in Acacia City, everything was always loud, always moving, It was enough to make a guy paranoid when he stepped out of work and was assaulted with honking horns and constant whirs of motion.”

“Wait…Your shop was in Acacia?”

“Yeah.”

Haven shook his head, a furious look darkening his features, chasing all that adorable inquisitiveness away. It took a moment, then Maddox realized he’d put his foot in his mouth again, forgetting that six miles outside of the city was the Acacia Medium Security Prison.