Ride Me | ✓ |

Part Eight.

Sabotage
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Harley Finley

I hunched over the front bumper of my car with my flashlight in my hand as I looked at all the metal and plastic parts that made this piece of shit run.

Or should I say break down?

Anger rushed through me at the thought of being stuck in this town for any longer. It was unbearable to think of running into more of my past.

The funeral and service for Jim was enough to last a lifetime, in combination of seeing my ex and having to deal with Colten, who seemed slightly jealous of the idea of me not only thinking about his cock. I was ready to combust into dust and just let the wind take me home at this point.

"What are you doing?" Colten asked with amusement circling his words as he watched me.

My finger followed along a piece of hosing that connected with the motor. I squeezed it, allowing a small amount of oil to coat my finger. So I climbed in deeper, allowing my ass to raise to the ceiling in the garage as I tried to see where the leak was coming from.

"Trying to figure out why a twenty thousand dollar, brand new car decided to have a seized motor out of nowhere." I grumbled out, finally spotting a hole where the leakage was coming from. "Hold this for me." I demanded and reached my hand out to his until he took the flashlight.

Colten sighed as he held the light in his hand while I unclamped the hose from its designated spot, sending a few drops of motor oil to the ground in a ooze fashion.

Much less than I anticipated spilled out.

"Elijah is going to be pissed you got oil all over his floor."

I ignored him and his stupid comment, guiding his hand downward to see better in the poorly lit garage bay.

"Yeah, well Elijah also told me he'd look at it today and then just left out of nowhere." I complained, thinking back to just a few hours ago when he disappeared like a magic trick.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Colten raised a brow as his hand shook slightly from his silent laughter.

"You know what, Colt? Just shut up. How about that? Every one in this town can shove their opinions up their asses and go fuck themselves." I snapped, jamming my hand further into the tight space to loosen other side of the hose.

"What's your problem, Harley?" Colten snapped just as quickly.

With the long hose in my hand and a vendetta on my mind, my voice raised. "You are my problem, Colten. If it wasn't for you I would have been home yesterday. I wouldn't be here, in this fucking garage where Jim spent all of his time instead of with me. I wouldn't be stuck staying in his house or having to face dealing with my past demons for god knows how long until this piece of shit is fixed."

"Woah, back up, angel." Colten raised a hand in the air. "If it's anyone's fault, it's your own. I didn't fucking tell you to stay. You wanted to. Don't turn this around on me just so you could blame anyone but yourself for wanting to be fucked right."

I groaned loudly, snatching my light from his hands and inspecting the slit mark that stretched down the side. "What the fuck." I murmured.

Colten forcefully took the tube from my hand with furrowed brows. "Show me where this was." He demanded, his tone dripping with sudden seriousness.

I leaned over the car once again with Colten pressed into my back, pointing to where I yanked it out from the motor.

"Fuck." Colten cursed under his breath. "Let's go."

I gave him a double take with my brows furrowed. "No, I'm not getting on that bike again."

Colten huffed a few swears under his breath before pulling at my wrist and putting our chests against each other. His nose rested on my ear as he whispered so softly and so deeply, I could barely hear him, "Harley, if you don't get on that bike right now, I'll make you and trust me, you won't fucking like what I do to you."

"Oh, fuck you, Colt." I tried to squirm away, only for Colten to tighten his grasp on my body, pressing his weight further into me.

"There are a lot of things Elijah hasn't told you, yet. So, I need you to drop this little act you're playing and get on the fucking bike. Understood?" He continued to whisper, but even then my gut turned.

"What hasn't he told me?"

Colten huffed, resting his lips to my ear as if nervous others could hear him. "There are people in this town that think you killed Jim's second wife. And trust me when I say, they will do whatever they have to, to find out the truth."

My stomach churned.

"Now," He whispered as he caressed my chin and squeezed my lips together, "Get your ass on that bike before whoever did this to your car shows up."

"You think they're going to show up?" My eyes widened as I follow Colten to the back of the shop.

My act that he had called it, was gone and replaced by a pit of fear that lurked in the shadows of the night.

How could a group of people, ones that I grew up with, that may have known me as a child, think I would kill my own mother?

"Colten." I snapped with plead, grabbing his hand and running in front of him before he had a chance to get onto his bike.

Colten's eyes hardened as he looked to mine. It was then that I realized tears were forming at my lids, threatening to slip down my cheeks.

"I didn't kill her."

His rough, oiled up hand held my still dry face tenderly. "Get on the bike, angel." His voice softened but his eyes looked as if he were ready to murder someone.

I took two hesitant breaths, ones that sounded almost like a whimper before reluctantly getting onto the back of the death trap. Colten climbed on, starting the engine and taking off.

He was slower this time, not racing around but I still held him close, stuffing my increasingly wettening face into his thin shirt until a sob, too quiet to be heard over the purr of the engine, released.