Becoming the Old Lady of My Ex's Mortal Enemy

ley

veralls and steel-toed combat boots, I kicked open t

ng, miserable faces. The so-called "veteran" mechanics who use

ped a cheap cigar in his teeth and blocked my pa

ss? What, got tired of being played by men out

orus of vulgar laughter. In their eyes, I was s

n give him a second glance, my eyes locking straight

er"-a heavily customized vintage Indian heavy cruiser. It had a fatal t

Gus jumped up like a dog wh

ain't fixed by noon, he's chopping all our hands off! If you scratch a single flake of

ne. I didn't bother with their bullshit diagnostic reports. Instead, I sl

f the metal. Listening

y eyes, a cold, arrogant sm

I grabbed a heavy pair of hydraulic pliers from the wall an

stantly draining to a sickly white. "You ruined it! We're all dead! The B

pick from my waist, slid my wrist into the depths of th

in

heat-popped out with precision and hit the floor with a crisp s

t the rod. Smooth as si

ss took less tha

ves directly into Gus's pale, fat face, issuing a co

n absolute despair, he twisted the key. He fully

OOM-

ted into a deafening, yet exquisitely smooth and terrifying roar! The vi

. Only that perfect, thunderous en

with a thud. His eyes were bulging out of hi

locker and dug out a tattered, worn-

d as a god by the entire underground scene, "Wrench". That inv

d, Wrench?!" Gus dropped to his knees, his voice crac

n. A mob of ruthless hitmen in black suits stormed in. Leadin

ally pissed their pants, thinking The

heard that flawless engine roar, saw me standin

, the brutal mob boss burst i

n immediately and respectfully presented a massive black briefcase. It snap

!" The Butcher roared, his face flushed with excitement, bordering on blatant flatt

the door, waving their checkbooks and screaming like blood-crazed sharks, f

who were so arrogant just mi

t terrifying mob bosses in the city, they remembered their

Thump!

my combat boots like beaten dogs, slamming their heads into the ground, their voices filled