Redemption Hills: The Complete Collection

3. Jud

THREE

JUD

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t even eight in the morning, heavy metal blared from the speakers that hung at each corner of the soaring ceiling of Iron Ride.

Had slept like shit last night, tossing and turning with the thought of Salem in the room right next to me, that fiery wildcat who could so easily get under my skin.

Apparently, the only thing it took was a hot-as-hades stranger standing wet in my living room to make me lose my mind. My rationale. My sense and reason.

My purpose.

So, I’d gone and done something so ridiculous as tell her I wanted to get to know her.

Seriously fucked up.

A chuckle of disbelief rolled up my throat as I studied the piece of metal on the worktable.

What did I think? She was going to get to know me and be cool with who I was? And why the fuck had I even suggested it? Thought for a second that I wanted it?

I knew firsthand it didn’t go down like that. The second I’d let it slip from my mouth, I’d known I was setting myself a trap. That it ran contrary to everything I knew. Everything I was striving for.

But still, it’d been there, tangled in my guts—interest—and not just in that tight little body.

At least the girl’d had a little sense and shot that shit down, but still, it’d left me rattled, my dick hard and my brain mottled as I’d slunk away to my room, hoping by shutting myself behind my bedroom door, I might be able to shut off thoughts of her.

Hardly.

I’d finally given up when the sun breaking at the horizon had snatched the darkness from my room. I’d pulled on some clothes and made my way down to the shop.

Had plenty to do, anyway, so it didn’t hurt to get a jump start on my day.

Besides, Iron Ride was where I found my peace. Where I created beauty when my past life had created devastation.

It was where I welded and sanded and painted and rebuilt. Brought back to life the worn and run-down. The dilapidated and decayed. Priceless gems left to rot in backyards and in forgotten lots. Cars and bikes that I would take back to bare bones, then restore them to a newfound glory.

Art manifested of my hands.

Dirty hands that I was doing my best to make clean.

I got lost in it. Entranced in it.

Ears full of the pounding, thrashing beat, I watched through my protective mask as fire scored through metal. Sparks flew and spit as I made the precision cut.

I was hyper-focused, though somehow enthralled by the movements, like my soul had jumped in on the revelry.

I heaved out the breath I’d been holding when the metal for the bike fender finally cut apart, the tension bound in my muscles draining away. I shut off the torch so I could study my handiwork. My finger covered by a leather glove glided over the cut.

Ensuring perfection.

Nothing less was tolerated in my shop.

The only thing going out these doors was going to be spectacular.

Awe-inspiring.

I mean, fuck, I’d made old bikers weep when they’d come to claim their ride. If a man shed a tear or two when he saw his beast for the first time? That shit was a win.

When I heard the rumble of a truck come into the lot, I tossed off my gloves and moved for the open bay where Brock eased in the tow. He pulled horizontal to the building before he put it into reverse and backed it in. He left the engine idling when he hopped out the driver’s door and came striding my way. “Yo, boss. This it?”

His voice was pure speculation. Like I hadn’t given a specific description of the car and directions to where it was sitting.

“That’s it.”

He shook his shaved blond head, a grin spreading to his face as he pushed the button to lower the lift.

Brock had been the first mechanic I’d brought onto my team. Dude was quick with a wrench and possessed this natural instinct with diagnosing issues. Swore the asshole could get an engine that had been rusting for twenty years out in a deserted field to spark.

He also ran his mouth twenty-four seven.

“This a joke? A test? Or is business runnin’ dry and you’re getting desperate? Thought we were booked solid for a year?”

Considering it was Saturday and we were all working double-time to keep up with the workload, the answer to that was obvious.

“Helping out a friend,” I said, giving him a look that told him the reason the car was there was none of his concern.

“She pretty?” he cracked.

“That required to do something nice?” I growled. Had to restrain myself from punching the scrawny punk in his smug face. But that would probably lay him out for the week, and I needed him on a ’63 Ford pickup that was set to roll next month.

He shrugged. “Hey, man, I just know what it takes to get a spot here, and you have me rollin’ up with an old sedan? You must be getting something out of it.”

I ignored him, and instead, I turned my attention to watch as Darius made a left into the lot in his black pickup truck.

Darius had only been with us for the last month. Guy was the opposite of Brock. Quiet and intense. Tatted and hard and nearly as big as me. Lost in thought most of the time, though he got the job done. He was a basic technician that’d come from one of the dealerships, but he was hungry to learn, and I was desperate for help.

Like Brock had said, we were booked a solid year, and I was turning away clients left and right.

Brock was moving to unlatch the chains on Salem’s car when Darius came to a stop and jumped out of his truck. “What’s going on?”

He stormed across the lot, his attention locked on the sedan.

Awesome.

I was gonna get shit from him, too.

Then I was stilling, tingles rushing my flesh as a shock of energy came blasting through the shop. As fierce as the storm from last night. I eased around to find Salem coming down the stairs from my loft above.

The breath knocked from my lungs.

Fuck me.

This girl was even prettier than I’d remembered from last night.

Crazy hot.

Wicked sexy.

Back in her clothes she’d been wearing last night, though her face was bare, and all that black hair was piled in a crazy knot on her head.

Nothing but a perfect fantasy floating down from my loft.

Figured it’d been the storm that had left that feeling zinging in the air, and it would have disappeared this morning.

This connection that made me want to explore something I knew damned well I shouldn’t explore.

Couldn’t explore.

But it was there, pulling through the atmosphere, vibrating along this invisible band that had us tied.

Neither of us could look away.

Thunderbolt eyes speared me from across the space, piercing me through and holding me hostage.

Wondered if anyone else noticed, the way we just fuckin’ stared.

Tangled in a beat.

Held in a moment.

Something powerful lit in my veins.

Need.

Possession.

Girl was nothing but an enchantress.

Black-fuckin’-magic.

Because what she had me feeling wasn’t possible.

“Ah, she’s pretty, all right.” Brock spewing his bullshit broke me out of the spell. “Knew you had to be gettin’ something out of it, and that something is fine as hell.”

Fuck the Ford.

I started to go for him except Darius had me grinding on the brakes when he charged Salem’s direction, his footsteps enraged. He stopped halfway to her, right in the middle of us.

His hands were clenched into fists as his attention darted between me and the girl.

Swore, he had murder written in his expression.

Knew that look well.

He turned that venom on her. “Salem, the fuck are you doing here?”

Well shit.

She told me she didn’t have a man waiting on her, and I had a feeling that things had just gotten messy and fast.

Had the urge to yank him back, stand between them, especially considering she’d come walking down like she’d been properly fucked when, unfortunately, that wasn’t even close to the way things had gone down.

Except Salem rolled her eyes in annoyance as she hit the landing and strode our way. All fierce fire and stormy conviction. “I called you fifteen times and texted you more. My car broke down.”

Darius’ eyes swept back to take in her car.

Brock was standing beside it, dude grinning like the fuckin’ Joker, laughing under his breath as he took in the scene. No doubt, he was eating up the tension.

The way Darius looked back at me like he was envisioning peeling the flesh from my bones.

“Tried calling you this morning,” Darius grated, though he was still glaring at me when he said it.

“My phone died, and I was asleep and safe because some nice guy stopped to help me in the middle of a downpour. That was it.”

“I bet he helped her,” Brock needled.

I spun and pointed at him, the threat whipping from my tongue. “One more, Brock, and I end you.”

He laughed like it was hysterical.

“Was about to lose my mind, Salem,” Darius grated, swiveling his focus to the girl.

“Did my texts from last night come through this morning? The ones where I told you what happened and that I was fine?” Her voice was a challenge.

“Yeah.” He seemed reluctant to admit it.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So, you knew I was okay?”

He roughed a hand over his head. “Yeah.”

“Then I’m pretty sure this anger is misplaced.”

Coming to the quick decision of where to place it, Darius turned to glare at me.

I pushed a placating hand toward him since the dude looked like he was about to snap. “Hey, man, had taken a ride and got caught in the storm. On my way back, I came upon her car over on Dawson. Shady as shit over there, you know that, and I wasn’t about to leave her by herself.”

Didn’t really need to explain myself because I hadn’t done a thing wrong. His anger wasn’t on me. I’d had no clue Salem was with someone. On top of it, she hadn’t done anything wrong, either. She’d let someone help her. There was no crime in that.

Wasn’t like she was betraying her man by seeking refuge under my roof.

The fact the idea of her having a man coiled my guts in some kind of twisted, pissed off jealousy?

Yeah.

That one was on me.

Except Salem was scoffing and cocking her head in offended disbelief.

Wildcat claws coming out.

Salem was fuckin’ hot in all that ferocity.

“You don’t need to explain to my brother why you stopped to help me, Jud. We didn’t do anything wrong, and he has no right to act like we did.”

She emphasized brother , and shit, was that a breath of relief that punched from my lungs?

Why, yes. Yes, it was.

Darius glared harder.

Fuck.

I scrubbed a palm over my face.

He shifted back to her, voice full of condescension. “I’m sorry if I’m concerned that I roll up to work and my sister comes waltzing out of my boss’ apartment.”

He was back to shooting daggers at me.

Brock howled and rocked his hips. “Friend…just how friendly are you, Jud?”

“One more word.” My finger was back to jabbing in his direction.

Apparently, none of us were going to make it out alive because Salem was tossing her hand in the air, her outrage shifting to me. “And why is my car here?”

Surprise lifted my brows. “Uh…because it’s broken down?”

She lifted that scarred chin, and fuck, I was itching to reach out and touch it again. “I told you I can’t afford that.”

“Didn’t ask you to. I’ll handle it.”

She and Darius scoffed at the same time. Maybe I should have recognized the resemblance from the get-go. “I don’t think so,” they both said.

Lord help me.

I roughed both palms over my face. “I’m just trying to help out over here.”

“Help—”

The second Brock opened his mouth, I picked up a wrench and threw it at him before he could get it out. It hit him square in the chest and dropped him to his knees. Dude started rolling around on the shiny black concrete.

Crying and laughing like the fool he was.

He was lucky he was good.

I turned back to Salem who looked like she was about to freak out right about then. She glanced at her brother. “Do you have time to give me a ride home?”

He gave her a tight nod. “Yup. Just give me a second to take my things to my station.” He lifted the bag he’d dumped to the ground in front of him. “That is, if it’s okay with the boss?”

There was a challenge in that, and hell, I thought I’d learned more about the guy in the last two minutes than I had since he started working here.

I jutted my chin. “No problem.”

“Good.” Salem spat it, then stormed on those heels out the open bay door and toward Darius’ truck.

“Hey,” I called from behind her, unable to do anything but follow.

Girl this gravity that I couldn’t shake.

I needed to completely cut off this bullshit.

But there I was, chasing her out into the bright light of the coming day, the ground damp and the air humid from last night’s storm.

“What the hell?” I demanded when she refused to look back at me. “Salem. Wait.”

I nearly stumbled when she whirled on me like a hurricane. “I’m not a charity case.”

“Didn’t imply that you are.”

She gestured wildly at the front of her car visible through the bay door. “Do you expect to get paid for that?”

I rocked back on my heels and scratched the back of my neck, unsure of what the right answer was supposed to be here. “Uh, no.”

Her head cocked to the side, voice hard. “Charity case. I told you last night that this place was going to be too much, and you hauled my car in, anyway?”

“Everyone needs a little help every once in a while, Salem. Not a thing wrong with that. And if this is about what happened with your brother, he has to know you weren’t doing a walk of shame, that you?—”

She flew into my face.

The words died on my tongue as that severity cracked.

A whip.

In a heartbeat, my guts were tangled in those thunderbolt eyes.

She poked me in the chest. “Walk of shame? If I fucked you, it’d be because I wanted to, and I wouldn’t feel an ounce of shame, so you and my brother can both kiss my ass.”

Uh…wow.

I didn’t know if I should be turned on or offended.

Visions hit me like a backhand of lust.

Okay, fine.

Definitely turned on, so there I went, easing in, my words rumbled near her ear. “Might like that. Don’t tempt me, enchantress.”

Screeching, she tossed her hands up and stomped the rest of the way to Darius’ truck before she swung back to face me as she opened the door. “Fine, fix my car, Jud, but I will figure out a way to pay for it. I refuse to owe you anything.”

She hopped in and slammed it shut, and I just stood there staring as Darius passed by, the dude eyeing me with outright distrust as he went.

He climbed into the driver’s side and started the truck and whipped out of the lot, the loud engine roaring as he disappeared down the street.

While I stood there wondering what the fuck had just happened.

Laughter ripped from behind. “Whelp, there went your balls, boss.”

I strode back into the shop, not bothering to tell Brock where to shove it.

Not when I had the sinking feeling the motherfucker was right.