Wanted: A Bad Boy Romance by Maya Hawk Read Free Book Online Page B

because I was
imagining Kyle’s face with each jab and strike.
    “Hey, assholes.” Kyle struts in
like he owns the place. I suppose in a way he kind of does. It’s thirty minutes
past the hour. KJ and I have been here forty minutes already. He shoves a jelly
donut into his mouth and uncaps a bottle of Mountain Dew. A streak of neon
yellow drips from the corner of his mouth as he takes a lazy slurp.
    Everything about Kyle rubs me the
wrong way, and it has since the moment I met the douche. I can’t boil it down
to the way he looks at me like his shit doesn’t stink or the way he peacocks
around the shop doing half-assed oil changes making double my wages.
    No.
    There’s something far more
sinister about him.
    I watch as he motions for a car
to pull in and points the driver toward the waiting area. A second later, he
pops the hood and pulls out their air filter. It’s clean, white really. Looks
almost brand new.
    He pops it back in and heads out
to the lobby, reaching behind a desk and pulling out a dirty filter. I watch
through the window as he convinces the middle aged gentleman
that his car is in desperate need of a new air filter.
    The man seems to eat up Kyle’s
every argument. I can imagine him spewing off fuel mileage statistics and
allergy claims. Any one of us guys knows that a man who takes his car in for an
oil change probably isn’t the handiest under the hood. You can pretty much tell
them anything and they’ll throw money at it until it goes away.
    So that’s why Kyle gets paid the
big bucks. He knows how to sell them shit they don’t need and increases the
shop’s profits exponentially.
    Fucking dick wad.
    “That filter was clean and you
know it.” My words stop him in his tracks and wipe the smug smile off his face
at the same time.
    He shrugs and then straightens
his shoulders, like he’s bracing himself for a duel. His stance widens, and his
eyes challenge me. “You want to go tell him I lied? Go right on ahead.”
    Goddamn prick.
    It’s not that I don’t want to.
    I can’t.
    I need this job, and I can’t be
stirring shit up with the boss’ son in the middle of my first week.
    “That’s on you.” I say. “You
lied. You’re the one who has to sleep at night.”
    “Always sleep like a baby.” He
brushes past me, his shoulder grazing mine. I’m easily six inches taller than
the twerp with an extra thirty pounds of muscle, and he’s got some big balls strutting
around like he’s fucking untouchable. I could twist and mangle him in two
seconds flat.
    “Just…don’t.” KJ warns me after
Kyle heads back to the supply room.
    “Don’t what?”
    “Try to talk him into doing the
right thing. It doesn’t work. Believe me.” KJ grabs a wrench and steps under
the lifted Buick. “He’s dangerous.”
    I glance at KJ. His face blank,
ashen almost. Like he’s terrified of his brother.
    Before I get a chance to ask him
to elaborate, Kyle returns.
    “So what was your nickname in
prison?” Kyle swaggers slowly, taking his time as he tosses an air filter high
into the dead space of the ceiling and catching it. “Everyone gets a nickname,
right? What was yours?”
    “JJ,” I respond without pause.
    “JJ? That’s fucking lame.” Kyle
shakes his head. “The fuck is JJ supposed to mean?”
    “Judge and Jury,” I say.
    Another car honks and another
technician opens the door to his bay, guiding the car in.
    “Judge and Jury.” Kyle laughs,
his eyes rolling into the back of his head. “We need to get you something
better than that.”
    “They wanted to call me the
Executioner,” I say, pressing the trigger on my drill. “But I don’t kill
people. Only cowards and pussies kill people.”
    Kyle’s smile fades for a half
second until he turns away and returns to his engine. He finishes ten minutes
later and disappears for a bit. I’ve only known him a few days but that seems
to be his M.O. He does one oil change for every three that I do.
    The early morning rush subsides a
bit