Page 86 of Bend

“What? You’ve got the attitude for it.”

Revel spins past on the stool. “I mean, I never had a dad, but if I had to build one from scratch, I’m pretty sure he’d be exactly this fucking miserable.”

The garage goes quiet for half a beat.

Revel keeps spinning.

“What?” He shrugs. “I’m saying he fits the job.”

Talon reaches out and catches the back of his shirt, stopping the stool dead.

Revel nearly slides off.

“Fuck, dude.”

“Keep talking.”

Revel looks at me. “See? Strong paternal energy.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself laughing.

This is still weird sometimes.

Not them being idiots. I’m getting used to that frighteningly fast actually.

It’s being here in general.

Standing in the Speed Demons garage like I belong here, with the crew.

A few weeks ago, I was sitting alone in some shitty motel wondering whether coming to Tampa was the biggest mistake of my life. Now I’ve somehow got a workstation, a job, two brothers, several new friends, and three men making my personal life look like somebody threw gasoline on a dumpster fire.

Progress, I guess.

Wolfe comes up beside me and bumps his shoulder into mine, his hand brushing lightly against my lower back as he leans closer.

“You good, waŋyéča?”

There he goes again.

I tilt my head up at him. “Do you ever stop checking on people?”

“Nope.” His mouth pulls into that easy grin. “Not the ones I care about.”

I narrow my eyes, fighting my own smile. “Well, that’s rather annoying.”

“And yet,” he says, nudging me again, “you keep me around.”

I laugh under my breath, then catch on to the word he used. “Wait. What does waŋyéča—”

The office door bangs open.

Andre steps into the garage with a folder tucked under his arm.

Wolfe’s grin widens as he straightens. “Guess you’ll have to wonder.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Later, maybe.”