It had been two days since we ran into Jenna at the Specter's clubhouse. I was back at the shop, and had all but forgotten about her, being completely consumed with our work, especially our new project, which Clyde and I were currently staring at in awe.
"I'm gonna say it, because I know you're thinking it, too," Clyde said as we stood back and admired the 1980 model Harley Davidson wide glide that Beast had brought in this morning "I have the biggest boner, right now. I am actually so turned on by this thing."
"I don't even want to touch it," I agreed. "I'm just... I'm not worthy."
"She's so beautiful," Clyde was just about drooling. "Dude, if Bonnie was a bike, she'd look like this."
"You have the lamest crush on her," I laughed. "Aren't you two meant to be married, already.
"Shut up," he retorted. "I'm aloud to still think she's hot."
"You're fucked in the head," I laughed.
"No seriously," he insisted. "I'll be picturing this baby next time we're getting it on-"
"For fuck sake, I don't want to know," I groaned, and punched him in the arm. "Come on, let's see what we're working with."
The engine was in bad shape, the paint work was badly scratched up and the fuel tank had some dings in it. Clyde and I were going to rebuild the engine, while Marcus polished out the dents and touched up the paint job.
Instead of repainting the red and orange flames up the side, Beast wanted the Specter's logo instead; a shadowy ghost like figure being consumed by flames. I couldn't wait to see how it turned out.
We made a list of different parts in the engine we'd need to replace, and Clyde disappeared into the office where we had the computer to see if he could source them online. While he did that, I found a clean rag and began cleaning off some of the dirt and grease.
It was quiet, in the garage, now that I was alone. Usually, one of us would put some music on to keep us company, but today, I was too focused on the wide glide, so much that, at first, I didn't hear the sounds from the side of the garage. At first, I figured that it must have been a stray cat or something, lurking around, looking for mice, but the sounds became too consistent, and I realised that whatever was down there was a lot bigger than a cat.
Probably some kid messing around.
Just in case it wasn't, I grabbed one of the bigass socket wrenches from the work bench and went outside to check it out.
It took me a moment to spot anything among the jumbled mess of random junk, and I couldn't hide my surprise when I made out the wavy blonde hair and sad green eyes of the girl I was half hoping to never see again.
She was watching me watching her, trying to make herself look smaller, her eyes pleading with me, wide and frightened.
"What are you doing?" I asked, irritated by the way she flinched when I spoke.
"Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't let them find me."
I frowned, glancing over my shoulder, trying to work out who she was hiding from, why she was so freaked out, but I saw nothing.
"They're in the black car," she whispered.
"Stay there," I told her, and made my way back to the shop.
Clyde wasn't in the back office anymore. The computer was still on, open to a page with different motorbike parts. I could hear voices coming from the front reception, and I made my way through the door, where I found Clyde.
All his attention was focused on the two guys standing on the other side of the bench, seeming completely out of place in their crisp business suits and immaculate haircuts.
As if to emphasis my observation, Clyde uncrossed his tattooed arms and ran his greasy fingers through his messy black hair, only managing to smear more grease on his face. Both men looked at him with contempt.
Fuck it, he was a mechanic, not a prissy bloody city boy who was more concerned with his looks than doing actual, hard work. If they didn't like it, they could leave. But, if they needed a mechanic, there wasn't another one until the next town over, which was half a days hike, so they had both better start treating my mate with some more respect.
"What about you?" One of them turned to me, as I was about to intervene, cutting Clyde off. I knew it wouldn't have escaped him, the looks they were fixing him with, and he wasn't the subtle type. He would be stirring shit any minute, now.
"What about me?"
"Dude's looking for his daughter," Clyde cut in, interrupting the older of the two men, and the lines in his face deepened as it contorted with disgust.
"My daughter Amelia is missing," he explained, speaking slowly as though he thought I'd have trouble keeping up.
I shrugged.
"What's she look like?" I wondered.
"No one new ever comes here," Clyde put in. "They stand out like dog's balls, if they do. Everyone knows everyone in this place. If she's been here, we'll have seen her."
He said it offhandedly, like he was just stating a fact, glancing sideways at me as though waiting for my confirmation. I doubted if the two suits in front if us would have picked up on Clyde's subtle message, but I knew him better than most. I could tell that his insisting we knew nothing meant that he wanted me to keep my mouth shut.
"Amelia is blonde," The older man told me, barely sparing Clyde a glance. "Twenty years old, very timid."
"I don't know anyone called Amelia," I told him.
"I went to school with someone called that," Clyde said casually. "She was a hottie, too, but then she got on the drugs..."
I held back a smile. He was being deliberately crude, I could tell, probably hoping, like I was, that these two city slickers would go back to where they came from and never return.
"She went missing about a week ago," the older guy continued, ignoring Clyde. "I've been searching all over or her. I just want her home, safe, with her family."
It was a plausible story, and I might have believed that he was a loving father who was concerned with his daughter's welfare. It was the cold tone that he used and the indifference in his eyes that gave him away.
I knew for a fact that he was talking about Jenna, the only timid, blonde twenty year old that I'd noticed within the last week, and I knew that she was desperate not to be found, for whatever her reasons.
"Can't say I have," I told them, shrugging apologetically.
"We'll keep an eye out," Clyde added, covering one eye with his hand and looked around the shop as though he thought she might just pop up beneath one of the many piles of paperwork.
He even had me half convinced that he was insane, and the two suits couldn't get out of there fast enough.
"I don't think they liked me," he observed once they were gone, and I laughed.
"You don't say." I grinned at him. "Why do you do that, with people you can tell don't like you?"
He shrugged indifferently.
"Someone doesn't like you for no reason, then it means you're aloud to give that prick a reason."
The two suits had climbed into a shiny black Mercedes, and we watched as they pulled away, down the road, away from the shop.
"You think it's her?" Clyde asked me as we watched the dust slowly settling again, once they were gone.
"Why would she be running?" I wondered, frowning.
"Because she's a spoilt rich bitch?" He suggested casually. "She probably stole a bunch of money from her daddy and ran off somewhere. Not like she hasn't before."
"You think she did that?" I wondered, not convinced.
"Nope," he said, matter of fact. "That dude was not her dad, and he doesn't care one way or another what happens to her, as long as he gets her back. And not necessarily in one piece."
"You got all that, huh?" I grinned to hide the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I trusted Clyde, and his judgement. He was smart, smarter than anyone I knew, and he knew a lot about people, he could easily read them. I guess I wasn't the only one who'd gotten a bad vibe from that guy.
"It was easy to see," he confirmed, his expression serious, which was rare for him. "I wondered why she was so fucking timid. I'd say that cold hearted fuck is the reason."