"Don't you dare!" I smack his shoulder and try to move out of his hold. Vance looks extremely amused, his eyes crinkled at the corners, “Say it!"
"No!" I yell, still struggling to break free. He grabs my arms and pulls me into a headlock.
“Vance!” I scream.
“Vern...” he warns, “All you have to do is say ‘thank you.’” I remain quiet, trying to pull out of his hold. A burning pain upon my head has me screaming out as he rubs his knuckles swiftly over my hair.
"Say it!" he yells.
I can only imagine the faces of those around us. The burning becomes unbearable and I give in, screaming out. "Thank you!" I yell, "Mercy!"
As soon as he lets me go, I smack him on his bicep that’s the size of my thigh and rub my head, expecting to have a bald spot. "Asshole!" I spit out. He only laughs as he walks back to our brothers. I quickly try to fix the mess he made of my hair. Taylor strolls over to me, holding out a cup, "Here, I got you a Coke,” she eyes me up and down, quietly, “Nice hair."
"Shut up! Why didn't you help me?!
She slowly looks at me, one eyebrow arched upward, “'Really? Vance is like a buck eighty. He's got like fifty-some pounds on me. What was I supposed to do?"
"I don't know … pinch his butt?"
She laughs loudly.
"Yanno, like surprise," I say weakly.
"Yeah, I'm sure it would've surprised him, but I don't think Wes would've appreciated it."
"He'd understand. You gotta take one for your bestest!"
With all the yelling, my throat is dry and scratchy. I take a big sip of my Coke, my eyes water a little. Ahh, carbonation. "I'm ready to get out of here."
"Okay. I'm gonna stay with Wes. I'll see you tomorrow?"
I nod. "Yeah. I'll call you when I'm out of work."
She embraces me in a big hug, "Okay. See you." I squeeze her back, "Let my brothers know, please."
She releases me, "Will do. Drive safe, text me when you get home." We go our separate ways. Since I didn't plan to race, my car is parked in the back lot. I press the unlock button on my key fob, the amber lights flashing allowing me to see where exactly I'm parked. I slide into the driver’s seat, press my key in the ignition turning the crank over. A loud rumble escapes from the exhaust, as the car idles, a nice steady purr fills the inside. Making sure no one is driving by or walking behind me, I push the clutch down and shift into reverse to back out of my spot. A few catcalls come from my right. I ignore them because a gentleman never calls out to a lady. Sometimes...I don't want a gentleman, or to be a lady.
Chase
Most teenagers get to sleep in on their Saturday mornings. I haven't been able to sleep in on a Saturday since I was old enough to get a work permit. My alarm is going off, but I'm so comfortable I don't want to leave my blanket cocoon. I start to doze off again when my door is thrown open.
"V!! Turn that shit off!"
I peek an eye open to see the back of Vance as he walks out. I only know it's him because of the large Egyptian tattoo on his back. I groan, stretch my arms out. I slap the top of the alarm and find the knob to shut it off. I get up, throw my ‘Victor's Garage’ tee over my tank, change into some jeans, and throw on some socks. I hit the bathroom before heading down the stairs, pulling my long hair into a ponytail. At the bottom of the stairs, I make a left into the kitchen. Vin is sitting at the middle island already, shoveling food into his mouth and Mom is facing the stove making breakfast.
"Morning!" I make my way over to Vin and hop up on the stool next to him. He's wearing his black fitted Victor's Auto Garage T-shirt too.
"Good morning, sweetie." My mom smiles back at me. Mom has always been an early riser, but I guess with five children, she got used to being up around the clock even though we're all old enough now.
"Where's Dad?" I’m curious.
"Your father is at the restaurant. There was an issue with this morning's delivery." Our family owns an Italian restaurant, Russo's, that has been in our family for two generations. They also own an auto garage, Victor’s, that my great grandfather opened. He named it after himself, then also named his son Victor, who named his son Victor...and so on. It became a family tradition, which in turn meant that family gatherings were always very confusing. My father is semi-retired but doesn't know how to relax even if his life depends on it. Vin has been running the garage for a year now. Victor--the Fourth Victor and my eldest brother--was supposed to take over the restaurant but decided to go into accounting, so even though he's not in the family business, he does the books for both. Vance kinda does whatever. Right now, he’s getting deeper into the racing scene with Wes. Vaughn is now in line to become the owner of Russo's after he finishes his degree at the community college.
Mom scoops some eggs from the pan on the stove and turns to the island to put toast and bacon onto the plate before placing it in front of me.
"Thanks, mom!" I put the eggs and bacon onto the toast, making myself an egg sandwich and take a big bite.
"Hmmmm" I moan. Mom smiles wide as she places a glass of orange juice in front of me.
"You ready?" Vin asks.
I glare at him. Seriously? I just sat down. "Do I look ready?"
"You better eat that fast because your messy ass ain't eating in my car!" I take another large bite of my egg sandwich, and smile wide, allowing some of the food to show.
"You're gross."
"I luff yoouu brudder," I mumble with my mouth full. Vin pushes away from the table, then leaves the kitchen. I cackle loudly.
"Veronica Marie!" Mom scolds me, pulling out my middle name. I close my mouth and finish my sandwich without another word. Mom starts doing the dishes. I pick up my plate, take it to the counter, and drop it into the sink filled with soapy bubbles. "Okay Mom, I'll see you later. Thanks for the yummy breakfast."
I skip out of the kitchen, slip into my work boots at the front door, and grab my bag before walking out the door. Vin is already in his beamer, windows down, white sunglasses on, rock music blasting loud. I slide into the passenger seat, "The Guido look fits you, Vin." I grab my seat belt but get punched in the left arm, instinctively my right-hand goes to my arm letting the seat belt snap back.
"OW!" I yell. "What the hell!"
"Oh, c’mon, that didn't hurt!"
“Yeah, it did!" I rub my arm and look at it. There's a nice red mark. He laughs, "You better hope you never get into a street fight. You’ll get your ass kicked."
"No way! I'll throw down any chick!" I throw up my arms like I'm Mike Tyson and punch the air.
"I hope you don't hit like that." His voice falls. I drop my arms and shrug. "If all else fails, I'll pull some hair and bite her ear."
This earns a burst of laughter from him. A short drive later, we pull up in front of the garage. It's about ten minutes before we open. Vin opens the front door, turns on the office lights, and I follow after him. Heading straight to the desk to boot up the computer, then into the lounge to start the coffee maker for the rest of the guys. I man the front desk, answering phone calls, keeping track of appointments, and putting together bills to mail out.