Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Bash

Coop folds his arms over his chest and lets out a long, low whistle. "Damn, Daniel. That's rough."

"Who's Daniel?" I ask.

"It's a meme." He waves his hand at the scene before us. "Don't you think this is a meme-level disaster?"

I can't deny what a mess the van is. When Dante's "guy" called me—courtesy of Julie—we agreed that someone should come out to look at the van. Instead of bringing Sage, I brought Coop. If the damage was as bad as I thought, I didn't want her to see it.

It's worse. So much worse.

"I've seen wrecks in John Wick movies that look better than this," I murmur. The van looks less like a van and more like a tin can someone ran over a few times before kicking it into a gutter.

"Maybe Emil here can walk us through it." Coop nods to the guy who met us at the garage entrance. He looks too young to be friends with Dante, but maybe he's a son of someone in Dante's extended family. I don't ask him where he fits into the picture. To be perfectly honest, I don't want to know. The less we know about Dante's associates, the better.

Emil waves to the van. "Dunno what you guys want me to say. The body's totally trashed, the interior is screwed, and the engine is totally fucked."

Coop clears his throat. "Those are the technical terms, huh?"

Emil rolls his eyes. "Buddy, you want a list of the damages? Because I can pretty much walk you through the manual on how everything is basically scrap at this point. If even. Looks like the owner did a lot of personal work on it to get it running, God bless her, but some of the parts are so old I'm not sure I can replace ‘em." The more he talks, the more he confuses me. He looks twenty, but his voice is that of a forty-year-old Long Island smoker.

"Can't you call around to other yards?" I ask. "Even old parts can be replaced, surely? Or commissioned?"

Emil stares at me.

"Can't you… maybe… with a 3D printer?" My voice rises with each word, and I make a series of gestures with my hands like I'm screwing two small objects together.

Emil blinks a few times, then turns to Coop and hooks a thumb in my direction. "Where'd you find this guy?"

"Canada," Coop says.

"Do they not have cars in Canada? The hell is he talking about?"

"He's not a car guy," Coop says.

"Yeah, no shit." Emil looks up at the ceiling as if to ask, why me? He lets out a deep sigh. "So, to answer your question… I can probably find some of the parts, but to do it that way could take months, maybe longer, and I'd have to call in a lot of favors. I tried to tell Dante, but you know how he is. That man won't take no for an answer."

We all nod. It's the first moment of solidarity I've felt with Emil since we arrived.

"If you do it this way, won't it be dangerous, also?" I ask.

"I mean…" Emil spreads his hands.

"What if you put in new parts? A new engine? The van has sentimental value, but surely not every part has to be replaced exactly. Make it like new but save whatever can be saved. Rebuild it. Like a phoenix from the ashes."

Emil shakes his head, but at least he's smiling now. "You're saying I can take some creative liberties, huh?"

"It was her father's van, but I think her father would want her to be safe more than he would want her to drive a van that is totally fucked. " I throw in some air quotes for good measure.

"Yeah, I feel you." Emil appraises the van again. "Sentimental but safe, huh? Rebuild the heart with new parts. Okay. I can work with that."

* * *

"Dude." Coop watches, open-mouthed, as I throw my ax and hit the target dead-on for the fourth time in a row. "Where the hell did you learn to do that?"

"I don't know cars, but that doesn't mean I'm useless." I grin and step out of Latham's way. "When I was young, we spent many months in the wilderness and made our own fun."

Latham spends a lot of time lining up his throw. His movements have power, but no finesse. The ax hits the target dull-side-first.

"Dammit, you made it look so easy," he complains.

Ranger, who has already tapped out of the ax-throwing portion of the evening in favor of drinking fruity cocktails with Oliver, laughs. "If only his moves were that smooth when it comes to Sage."

"This again?" I ask.

He rolls his eyes. "Dude, you have a hot-as-hell woman living under your roof. She was totally eye-fucking you at the cookout, and yet you've stalled out. Of course, we're still talking about it."

"Speaking of the cookout, thank you." I turn to Noah. "I know this was to make Sage feel welcome, and I appreciate the effort."

Noah steps up to heft an ax of his own. "Don't fool yourself. This was about Molly wanting to check out your house guest. She's convinced she has a new bestie. Oh, and Cash? You're a dick." He hucks the ax down the lane. It's not an amazing throw, but it's a lot better than Latham's.

Cash gestures to himself. "What'd I do?"

"Well, Molly had Viktor and is mostly exhausted and frazzled. A shell of the woman I married. Kingsley has twins, and she's aging in reverse. We'd love to know your secret."

Cash shakes his head. "There's no secret."

Ranger slurps his drink. "He's talking in three words. There are definitely secrets. And I really need you to spill them because…" He shudders. "I've seen things."

Latham smirks over at him. "Ranger, you look traumatized. Care to share?"

All of us wait while Ranger clears his throat a few times. "You remember our conversation in the locker room last week? Yeah, I, uh, peeked at Delilah's Kindle while she was in the shower."

"And?" Anders prompts.

Ranger licks his lips and squirms in his seat. "I don't understand omegaverse," he blurts.

The rest of us shrug, but Cash bursts out laughing. "You can't knot." He seems to find this hilarious for reasons I can't explain. I look to Coop to see if this is an American thing, but he just shakes his head.

Latham frowns. "Nut? I nut on the regular. I don't even need Scarlett to do that. Mind you, I'd love a real date night, but it feels like we always have other plans."

Oliver, who pulled out his phone as soon as Ranger started talking, shrieks. He drops it to the high-top table with a clatter. "I just looked up omegaverse. Just back away from the search engine. Any search engine. Don't go down that rabbit hole. It's actually an abyss."

Cash laughs again. "There's no bottom?"

Oliver shakes his head. "None."

One of the employees comes by and gestures to the ax-throwing alley. Cash signals that we're done. When nobody else speaks, he says with a conspiratorial wink, "Dark mafia romance."

Latham gags. "Ew. Makes me think of Dante. And two things that don't go together are Dante and sex. Although, I've been on his sex plane, so maybe that's just wishful thinking. Do you think he and Julie… ya know… get it on there?"

"The fuck do you mean, sex plane? " Anders demands.

Latham lifts one shoulder. "Well, it has a bedroom, and Scarlett put her hair into pigtails and called them handlebars, and…"

"Eww, brother, eww," Noah holds up both hands and taps for a time-out. "You're letting Cash off the hook here, guys. Cash. The secret. I want the secret."

Cash crosses his arms over his massive chest. "Told you already."

Anders groans. "All you said was ‘dark mafia romance.' What does that even mean?"

Cash pulls out his phone and turns on the screen. He opens an app and passes it to Anders.

"The hell is this?" Anders scrolls through the screen. "Shit, dude, is this Kingsley's Kindle library?"

"It's all mine." Cash turns back to Noah. "It's the oxytocin."

"Oxy-what?" Ranger wrinkles his nose.

Oliver doesn't have to consult his phone this time. "Oxytocin is a bonding hormone produced by the body after an orgasm."

Latham snorts. "Yeah, I nut all the time. Like I said before."

Anders passes the phone around, and we all take a look. A new group has taken over our ax-throwing lane, but they don't seem bothered by the fact that we're still here. One by one, we scroll through the titles in Cash's library. His to Possess. Brutal Confessions. The Don's Innocent Prize. There are a lot of leather sofas and broody, shirtless men on the covers, holding scotch.

"You read this stuff?" Latham asks.

Cash nods. "It's a guide."

"Aren't you afraid Kingsley will find out you're reading dirty romance? It's porn for ladies, right?" Coop scrolls all the way to the bottom of the library. "Damn, how many of these have you read?"

"Keep it down," Cash says, nodding to the group of ladies who are definitely listening in. Even though they're eavesdropping, they're still throwing better than most of the guys. Cash waves us into a huddle. "Lean in close."

We squeeze in around the high-top, awaiting his wisdom. Hell, I'm not even sleeping with anyone, and I'm hooked.

"Read them together," he whispers. "Act. Them. Out. "

"Oh, shit." Noah scratches his stubble. "That's genius."

"But where do we start? I mean… I can't go straight from missionary to omegaverse here," Ranger whines. A moment later, his phone buzzes. "Okay, that's weird. I'm getting an airdrop. Who sent me a book?"

One of the nearby women waves to him and grins. "Read it. Your wife will thank me. You should like it. It's a hockey romance."

"There are hockey romances? " Latham's eyes bulge.

Anders swats him with the back of one hand. "Dude, there are books about ladies giving handies to minotaurs. There's literally something for everyone."

Oliver leaps up from his barstool, almost overturning the table. "We need more research," he announces. "And I know just where to go."

"What do you have in mind, Doctor?" Latham asks as we follow him toward the front.

"First, to pay my tab. Then, we're going on a field trip to ask a consummate professional." Oliver shoves his glasses up his nose with one finger. "My wife. "

* * *

We huddle together just inside the door of The Last Chapter. Noah hunches his shoulders and tries to hide behind Anders as we walk through the shop.

Ranger watches him crabwalk along in our captain's shadow. "What are you doing? Your wife literally owns this place."

"That's why I have to be extra-careful," he whispers. "What if I fuck this up? What if I read one of these books and I can't, you know… deliver? "

"I think Molly will appreciate the effort either way," I tell him.

"She already said she'd replace me with you!" he hisses back. "And now I know why. You're all dark and broody and huge."

"Wait, what?" Anders stops so abruptly that Noah bumps into him from behind. "When did that happen?"

Noah flicks a wrist. "Look at him. Six-four, bearded, Canadian, thighs like tree trunks. He's the anti-Flopper."

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" Mona, Oliver's wife, materializes from thin air. Seriously, how does she move without making a sound? She's lighter on her feet than Annie Oakpaw.

Latham steps forward while the rest of us clear our throats repeatedly. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but… point me to your romance section."

Without breaking eye contact, Mona points behind her to the giant sign on top of a row of shelves that says Romance in big, pink bubble letters surrounded by cartoon hearts. Definitely Molly's handiwork.

"Right." Latham slips past her.

I hang back with Coop and Oliver. I don't know what Coop's thinking, but Oliver lowers his voice to say, "Mona, I was surfing the internet. Can I ask you a question?"

Her impassive features soften at the question. "Anything."

"How do you feel about my… eggplant?"

Mona's lips twitch. "Zero complaints."

"You don't… wish it was prehensile? Or had suction cups? You don't lie awake in the middle of the night pining away that I could knot you?"

She pats his arm. "No, sweetie. If it did, I would suggest that we see a doctor. It would not be cause for celebration."

"Okay. Thanks." He leans down to kiss her forehead. With his fears assuaged, he joins the others in the romance section. Coop follows him, leaving me alone with Mona.

"Can I help you, Bash?"

"No." I stick my hands in my pockets. "I don't even have a girlfriend. Pretty sure they don't have any male solo play inside those pages."

"Plot twist. They totally do. But you still think you need a girlfriend so that you can read romance novels?" Mona asks.

I tip my chin to the guys, who are passing books to Cash and waiting for him to either nod or shake his head. "You need a girlfriend to reenact romance novels."

"Ah." She turns so that we're standing side by side. "I see. So, that's why you band of dipshits wandered in here. But what about Sage?"

My face warms at the thought. "She's only here for a few weeks."

"So? Ever heard of forced proximity? Insta-love? Friends with bennies?" She waves for me to follow her. "If you're looking for inspiration, come with me. I've got some recs for days."