My Protector

Chapter 7

The behemoth from the waiting room walks out of an open bay door; his hand brushes through his black hair. "I'm glad you're here. I'm Digger, I don't think I supplied my name yesterday." My stomach rolls as I nod and accept his handshake. They aren't the same, relax.

"You know me already, where Axel's?" Digger nods his head towards one of the open garage bay doors.

"He's this way, I'll show you." I can't help it as I speak up, not pleased with this so far. Nope, this is spine chilling.

"What happened to the aftercare information I told you guys yesterday?" Digger looks at me before he offers a shrug. Distractions are wonderful. His strides create an easy distance between us.

"Did you believe he'd follow them?" No. I don't know what I expected, nothing short of what I'm greeted with.

"You know, Digger; my legs are not as long as yours. It'd be nice if you slowed it down a touch." Sarcasm; my best coping method. Not all of us were graced with long angelic legs, no I got stuck with short thick frumpy drumsticks. Digger chuckles softly; my eyes bounce around the room, inspecting my surroundings; my stomach churns. This garage looks like I'd imagine every other one, similar to my fathers. I fish out a pair of gloves and take a deep breath.

Three lifts, two with cars already lifted, the last one sits vacant. At the far end, two motorcycle lifts, both in use. A loud booming laughter startles me, my eyes dart to Digger. Get a grip. They aren't like them. "I like you! We should keep you around; I think you'd be a great asset." He looks at me with a grin and in response earns himself a befuddled look. What am I, a dog or something? I have to shake my head at the thought. I don't need to touch that thought, or go near that.

I push my sunglasses onto my head, tense at the few men that mill around in leather cuts. They aren't the same. Plain grey cinder blocks, stained with years of garage work. The familiar smell of old car oil, hard sweat and labor tickle my nose. It reminds me of my family, my father and my brothers. All of them were avid mechanics. It's ironic because only my father followed his dream and became a mechanic. Not that my brothers had the chance. It brings back the happier memories of my childhood.

I wish I could go back to those days, the carefree days. If only things were ever that simple; even then I had to look over my shoulder. There hasn't been a time where that wasn't true. I've always jumped at the shadows, the floorboards that creaked in the night; the branches that would scratch at the windows at night. I take a deep breath and focus my attention ahead. Axel is lounged back on a stool, a scowl firmly pressed into his features. His hand holds pressure on the stitched area near his pelvis.

He really is an alpha male, physically fit, not so overly done he looks like a bodybuilder on steroids. I hate that the leather makes me think he's a sadist. A freaking leather cut doesn't make someone a sadist who enjoys other's tears, or seeing their blood. 'Leather doesn't make or break a man Angel, it's the man that makes or breaks the leather.' My brother's words echo in my mind as I force my stomach to stop tossing. I'm just being crazy at this point. They haven't hurt me, there are too many witnesses for anything bad to happen.

"Hey Doc, it's good to see you again." Axel's voice sends a shiver down my spine, I'm greeted with a lopsided grin. He's too good looking.

"You couldn't help yourself, huh?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. Why do I find it hot that he didn't listen? I'm broken; that was easy. I'm an idiot looking for trouble.

"What can I say? I was dying to see that pretty face of yours." The cocky grin he gives me makes a shiver dance down my spine and I snort. Lies. The man is a flirt, he keeps ticking off those little boxes of the bad boy girls should stay away from.