Page 59 of Gunner

It wasn’t that hard to do the right thing.

I just preferred the easy stuff.

It was more interesting.

I was about as responsible as any young, handsome, virile single man with money in the bank and no attachments. Life was meant to be lived.

So, what if I enjoyed it more than most?

“I didn’t believe them,” Sarah muttered as she looked out the window of my truck.

“Didn’t believe what?”

“What they said about you. I think you are an amazing man who most people don’t take the time to get to know. If they did, they would see someone who cares deeply about those he loves. A good friend, someone they can rely on. There is nothing wrong with having a bit of fun and enjoying life. In a way, we are a lot alike. When people see me, all they see is a young stupid kid who is all about her social status. Funny thing is, I don’t care about that stuff. It’s easier to be what everyone believes than being who we really want to be.”

“What do you want to be, babydoll?”

“A mechanic,” she whispered, looking at her manicured nails. “I used to love spending time with my dad in the garage, tinkering with whatever engine that needed work. I offered to help many times, but dad never let me. He would always say, “Pumpkin, you don’t want to get your pretty dress dirty,” or my favorite, “Pumpkin, pretty girls don’t enjoy getting dirty.” I used to think he would say that stuff because he didn’t want me to get hurt. As I got older, I started to believe it was because he thought I was stupid. I barely made it through high school.”

“Why didn’t you explain it to him?”

“Because it was easier to be the ditzy daughter. After a while, I stopped asking and just became what he thought I was.”

“But I saw you working on my bike. You knew what you were doing, Sarah.”

“I know. When no one was looking, I read every manual, watched every YouTube video I could find. A lot of what I learned, I learned through trial and error. I self-taught myself everything I know. What I want isn’t normal. When people see me, they see a dimwit.”

“You are not a dimwit,” I growled, gripping the steering wheel tight. I had half a mind to turn my truck around, head back down the mountain and beat the living shit out of her father.

Instead, I headed straight for the clubhouse.

I knew Frank and Priest would be in the garage.

I wanted to prove to Sarah that she could be anything, do anything she wanted.

Chapter Sixteen

Sarah

When we left the hospital, I thought Gunner was taking me back to his place. Instead, I looked around the Sons Garage in awe. I saw so many tools, machines and vehicles that required fixing or a tune up.

I’d never seen anything so wonderful in my whole life.

It was like Disneyland!

Running my hands along a Harley Lowrider, I squatted down to see that someone had removed the plugs. Getting back up, I turned to see the hood up on a Dodge Charger. Bending over the engine, I noticed that someone was replacing the fan belt. Over in the far bay, a truck was having its oil changed. There were five bays in total and in each one there was an engine that needed work.

“What do you see, babydoll?” Gunner asked, leaning against the wall, watching me as did two of his brothers, Priest and Scribe.

“What’s going on?” Priest asked.

“Just watch,” I heard Gunner reply.

Turning around, I pointed at the far bay. “In bay five, you are building a bike from scratch. Not a Harley. A crotch-rocket. Someone wants a suped-upbike for off-roading. Bay four needs an oil change and from the looks of the tires, I would suggest having them replaced soon. Bay three needs new spark plugs and a new air filter. Bay two, someone is replacing the fan belt, but that’s not the problem. It’s the air compressor. There is a hole in the tube and in bay one someone is changing the brakes, but they are using the standard factory issue to replace them. I would suggest using the K&N ceramic brakes. They last longer and have a better warranty. On these mountain roads people ride the brakes, going with the ceramic brakes will extend the use and they have a better track record than the metal. Also, whoever is using bay three is a slob.”

“What the hell?” Priest said, walking over to bay two. Watching as he bent over the engine, he stood up a moment later and cursed as he stared in shock at me. “Son of a bitch. She’s right, Gunner. I was going to change the fan belt. If I did, Clinton would still have issues and his vehicle would be back in the shop in days.

“You boys have a problem working with a woman?” Gunner asked, never taking his eyes off me as he winked. Smiling, I looked around the place in merriment. My hands were itching to get dirty.