A Bit Aggressive (WereWitch Book 2) by Renée Jaggér

Author:Renée Jaggér [Jaggér, Renée]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2020-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

Gunney had already been working on the Beamer when he’d called Bailey, but as long as she’d mentioned it, he figured he’d burn the midnight oil and finish the damn thing before he went home and passed out. It was late, but he could get away with sleeping in an extra hour tomorrow as long as his employees showed up and didn’t fuck things up too badly.

The BMW was on the lift, already stripped of its doors and bumpers, and the old man was just about to check the suspension when a shadow moved across the lighted space within the shop.

He glanced aside. A tall figure wearing a bulky coat was standing there. The man’s face was obscured in the shadows of a big hood.

“We’re closed,” Gunney stated. “I’m just finishing something up and getting ready to shut things down. We’ll be open again tomorrow morning at seven.”

There was a pause, then a deep voice rumbled out of the hood. “Oh. I see. I wanted to make an appointment.”

The mechanic turned to glare at the man. “Most people don’t come to a business this late. And I’ve never seen you around here. You gonna just stand there, or you gonna go home and call in the morning?”

Realizing that he was possibly being overly harsh with a person who hadn’t done anything wrong yet, he tried to soften things while still getting the point across.

“I hear there’s this new thing called email the kids are into. We have one, even, so you could try that, too.”

No response from the stranger. Gunney took one step forward, trying to get a better look at him. The man had a strong jaw covered with beard stubble, but that was all he could make out.

Then the imposing voice came again. “I’m not here to get my car looked at,” the man clarified. “It’s about Bailey.”

Inside Gunney’s head, an alarm went off. He maintained his cool, nodded, and strolled toward his pile of tools, selecting a breaker bar with a 1-inch socket—a foot and a half of solid, heavy steel. Turning to the stranger, he hefted it, bouncing it twice off his palm.

“You know her, friend?”

The man was still. “I’ve heard about her.”

Somehow, that set the mechanic off. He stomped a few steps closer, now standing only six or seven paces from the hooded figure, who had remained just outside the bay doors at the edge of the light.

“Now, listen here,” he almost snarled. “I might not be a young man anymore, but I ain’t old enough to be afraid of kicking your ass for skulking around at night, asking after Bailey. You think I don’t know what—”

The man raised a hand, palm outward in an expression of truce. “No,” he interrupted. “I’m not here to threaten her or hurt her. I’m trying to help.” He was clearly not intimidated by the smaller, older man’s threats, but he wasn’t becoming aggressive, either.

Gunney paused, nostrils flaring as he inhaled. He still regarded the hooded stranger with a suspicious squint but figured he might as well at least hear him out.

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