Deceive (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #2) (4 page)

CHAPTER FOUR: REPAIRS

THE REMNANTS OF my somewhat happy mood were wiped away when I got outside and saw my car again. The scratch along the side—the one I’d caused . . . somehow—looked even worse than it had the first time I’d seen it. My Monaro was my baby, and I’d done everything I could to keep it pristine. Even though it was a few years old, there wasn’t a scratch on the paint or the rims. At least there hadn’t been until I’d fucked it up good and proper. After popping the locks with the remote, I ran my fingers across the exposed metal surface.

Fucking hell.
It was just lucky that I’d only damaged the car. It was a miracle I hadn’t killed myself or someone else.

Taking care not to hurt my ribs any further, I ducked down to examine the damage closer. The scratch had torn off the paint, but as I ran my finger over the worst of it, I found that it hadn’t bent the metal too badly along most of the car. The front fender was rooted and would probably need to be replaced. Still, from what I could tell, the chassis wasn’t bent. The car wasn’t a write-off. It was the sort of damage that would take the boys back at Sinclair just a couple of hours to fix with their ready spare parts, willing hands, and array of tools. Considering they could repair a car overnight, it would have been an easy task for them. The longest part would be the paint booth. I didn’t expect that any local smash repairers could get it done that fast, but there wasn’t much choice. I needed it repaired before I went home.

Adding find a repairer into my mental to-do list, I climbed behind the wheel. When I did, I stopped and stared at the card on the dash. Sitting in front of the gauges was a card for Eastern Smash Repairs. I figured it was Dad’s way of trying to mend the bridge between us. He was a car guy at heart after all. If anyone understood how much the damage hurt to look at, it would be him.

Putting my child seat shopping on hold for a little while, I headed toward the address on the card. At least it was close, so it wouldn’t be a huge detour to, at minimum, get a quote.

A little less than five minutes later, I pulled up into the car park at Eastern Smash Repairs. It was more sophisticated and bigger than I’d expected for a suburban smash repairer. The front of the building, no doubt housing the admin offices, was all tinted glass, shiny aluminium, and navy walls. Four large roller doors faced the road, each one painted a pristine white. It certainly looked like the sort of place I could trust to work on my baby.

After I’d parked in one of the covered parking bays, I headed into the reception area. Chimes sounded when I pushed the door open and a young man who couldn’t have been more than seventeen glanced up at me with a polite, welcoming smile at the ready. A second later, recognition lit his eyes and his smile widened. Behind his desk was a large plastic sign bearing the business name.

“Declan Reede,” the receptionist said in awe as his eyes grew as wide as his smile.

“Um, hi.”

He stood and practically leaped around the desk to get to me. “I was told to expect you, but wow, I didn’t think I’d actually get to meet you.” He stuck out his hand. “It’s a huge honour, sir.”

I shook his offered hand. “Just call me Declan.”

After everything that had happened in the last few days, I’d almost forgotten my celebrity status. It had been so easy to get sucked into a well of darkness, that it was almost refreshing to see the hero worship on his face.

Although he looked like he might choke on his own tongue in his happiness, he nodded and repeated my name.

“You said you were expecting me?”

He nodded. “Mr. Olson said you might come in for a quote.”

“Olson?” The name rang a bell in my mind, but I couldn’t immediately place it. I was so certain Dad had been the one who’d left the card. Who else would have had access to my car to put the card on the dash?

Motherfucker!
The answer struck me in an instant and I couldn’t believe the interfering arsehole. “Flynn Olson?”

The receptionist frowned, his confusion clear on his face. Then he nodded. “Yes, Mr. Olson said you had some damage on your—”

Without waiting for him to finish, I turned around and headed back out the door. The chimes that had greeted me sounded again and drowned out the last of the sentence.

“Bastard,” I hissed under my breath. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he’d taken over my place in Alyssa’s life, now he wanted to call the shots when it came to repairing my fucking car.

When I hit the car park, I saw the fucker kneeling down in front of my car inspecting the damage. One hand lifted to rub over his short, jet-black hair.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I called out.

He stood and spun on the spot, but the face that greeted me wasn’t the one I’d seen with Alyssa at Queensland Raceway or the one from Emmanuel’s graveside. It was almost but not quite the same. His eyes were the same as Flynn’s, especially the way they narrowed at the corners as the man glared at me.

“Well, I was inspecting the damage so that I could give you a quote, but I don’t need the hassle of rude customers so I don’t think I’ll bother.”

“Just ignore his grumpy arse, Cain. It’s me he’s upset with,” Flynn’s voice called from behind me.

Cain
 . . . the fucker Alyssa had been with. I clenched my jaw tightly as I considered it. Images of his hands trailing paths through Alyssa’s hair assaulted my mind. His tongue exploring her mouth. His body pressed against hers. Her hands—

My teeth ground together as I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind.
Fuck this, I don’t need this shit.

I didn’t need to be there. There had to be other smash repairers around. I unlocked the car with the remote and moved toward it.

“Wait,” Flynn said. His voice was closer than it had been. “I need to talk to you.”

I spun on him. “Yeah? Well I don’t have anything to say.”

“Tough shit, because I do. And I’m sure Alyssa will be interested to hear of your unwillingness to listen.”

I curled my fingers into a fist around my keys.
Motherfucker.
I sighed, forced my hand to relax, and locked the car again.

“Leave the keys with Cain,” Flynn directed, as if he actually had some authority over me.

“Why—”

“There’s no one better, that’s why. At least, not nearby and maybe not at all. I’m sure you’ll want that damage fixed before you have to explain it to Alyssa.” His smug look indicated that he knew exactly what had happened. Added to Dad’s words and Mum’s assertions that I needed to find some way to thank Flynn, it was clear that he’d been there. Somehow, he’d found me and taken me—and my car—home.

That was the only reason I muttered, “Fine,” and threw the keys to Cain.

Without another word, Flynn spun on his heels and headed back into the building. After balling my hands into fists again, I huffed out a breath to calm myself and then followed him inside.

He led me past the receptionist and into a spacious office. With a wave of his hand, he motioned toward two tub chairs along one wall. I stood in the middle of the room until he turned around. My fists curled and uncurled at my sides. I wasn’t going to make it easy for the fucker.

“Just sit will you?”

I crossed to the chair and sat, letting out a huff as I lowered myself down.
This better be fucking worth it.

He leaned against the desk and looked at me.

“Want a drink?” he asked, but his tone indicated it was a smart-arsed remark not a polite offer. I knew his true colours would come out as soon as we were alone.

“Fuck off.”

“Charming. I can really see why Alyssa likes you. You’ve got that whole warm and fuzzy thing—”

I’d stood and crossed the room halfway through his sentence. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You’ve got this whole nice-guy thing going on when it comes to her, but you don’t fool me. You’re a self-entitled arsehole.”

I got up in his face, a sneer curling my lips. “I’m only an arsehole when people make me one.”

He clenched his fists at his sides. “The only reason you’re still standing right now is because I know how to control myself. Now, sit.”

“You know what, it’s not even worth it.” With the sneer still cemented on my face, I reached for my car keys before I remembered Cain had taken them for his fucking quote.
Fucking shit!

I stopped and clenched my fists before turning back to Flynn. “You wanna get to whatever point you wanted to make? ’Cause I sure as hell don’t have all day to sit around and shoot the shit.”

He raised one eyebrow at me. “What the hell was that last night?”

“What fucking business is it of yours?”

“Your drunk arse almost ran me off the fucking road before you crashed into that guard rail, that’s what.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh.’ Seriously, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Unwilling to explain my life to him, I crossed my arms and raised one eyebrow.

“Not only that, I don’t know why you’d do that to Alyssa. She’s trying—so damn hard—to trust you again for Phoebe’s sake, and how do you repay her? By breaking her rules at the first opportunity.”

“How do you—” I was going to ask how he knew that but there was only one way. My jaw clenched tightly as I thought about the fact that Alyssa had spilled our secrets to him. “She told you.”

“Everything. From the whiskey to the whispered declarations. I know it all.”

My fists clenched and unclenched against my legs. I itched to wipe the smug expression from his face. The fact that his brother had the keys to my baby—to my escape route—was the only reason I didn’t. “Well, that’s just—”
fucked up “—
great.”

“Even if you hadn’t agreed to follow Alyssa’s requests, what the hell were you thinking getting behind the wheel in that state?” Before I could say anything in my own defence—not that there was anything I could say to excuse my behaviour—he continued on. “Do you know how many cars we have come through the doors here because of drunk drivers? Do you know how many lives have been lost because wankers like you got behind the wheel?”

“I didn’t come here for a lecture.”

“Well, stiff shit. If you’re going to make stupid decisions, you’re going to have to listen to one. What if it hadn’t been me? I can control my car well enough when arseholes try to run me off the road, but what if it’d been another car you swerved toward? One with a family? You could have killed someone. What if you’d had Alyssa in the car with you? Phoebe?”

His words twisted in my stomach, writhing like snakes and increasing the guilt. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I don’t know. You were the one who—”

Holding up my hand, I cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. And I really don’t need to fucking hear it again.”

“You do realise that if I hadn’t been there, if I hadn’t driven your drunk arse home, you might have been caught DUI? Anyone else would have probably called the police.”

“What do you want, a fucking medal?”

He moved over to me and sat in the other tub chair. “You know, each time I see you I find myself thoroughly confused over what it is that Alyssa sees in you. I still wonder what she’d say if she knew you almost ran me off the road.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You didn’t tell her?”

He sighed and looked away. “I was going to. And I still think she needs to know.”

“Then why didn’t you? After all, it’d earn you some points against me.”

“God, you are such an idiot. This isn’t a fucking contest.”

Despite his words, it felt like one.

“She cares about you. God only knows why, but she does. If it was up to me, I’d be kicking your arse to the kerb over what you did.”

“Are we done here?”

“You don’t get it do you? I’m trying to help you out. I know Alyssa better than you do.”

“No. I really don’t think you do.” I couldn’t help the smirk that crossed my lips. Sure he might have her confidence for the moment, but there were things about Alyssa I knew that Flynn never could. Things that fuelled my fantasies and filled my nights.

“Whatever, man, I just want to know you’ll stop doing stupid shit that can kill other people.”

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, it won’t happen again. And you can tell Alyssa that when you speak to her.”

He seemed to consider my words for a few moments, then he nodded. “Just know that if you do, I won’t hesitate to call the cops and get your arse arrested for DUI.”

Before I had a chance to say anything in response, there was a knock on the wall beside the open door. Without waiting to be invited in, Cain walked through and offered me a sheet of paper.

“I’ve got your quote,” he said. “If you’re interested, I can probably fit you in today.”

“Are you serious?” The rest of my question,
Why on God’s green earth would I leave my car with you?
died on my tongue as I flicked open the quote. I’d been certain it was going to be jacked up to twice the normal price, but it wasn’t. In fact, it was a good few hundred less than I would have expected for the damage. “How long will it take?”