Page 125 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

Hank had made his move. He was putting pressure on every weak spot he could find, betting that we’d fold under the weight of it all.

But he was forgetting one thing.

We were Grady men.

And we didn’t break that easily.

By the time I pulled into the lot, Owen and Mason were already there, standing by the busted garage door.

Mason turned as I climbed out of my truck, his jaw tight. “Jesus, Ethan. What the hell happened?”

I exhaled sharply, my breath visible in the cool night air. “Somebody trashed the place.”

Owen ran a hand through his hair. “I figured that much. Who do we think did it?”

I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Who doyouthink?”

Understanding dawned on Mason’s face. “Hank.”

Owen swore under his breath. “That son of a bitch.”

I nodded. “Slashed tires, busted tools, spray-painted messages meant to make it look like we were reckless, like we left the place unsecured.”

Mason shook his head. “If people stop trusting us…”

“We lose everything,” I finished.

The three of us stood there for a moment, staring at the damage. The place looked like hell.

But we weren’t just gonna stand here and take it.

I straightened. “We clean this up tonight. No cops, no press. We fix what we can and figure out our next move.”

Owen cracked his knuckles. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

I met his gaze. “That it’s time to stop playing defense?”

Mason nodded, determination settling over his features. “Then let’s do this.”

Without another word, we got to work.

Hank wanted a war?

He was about to get one.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Aurora

My phone rang,the sharp vibration rattling against the counter where I’d abandoned it.

For a second, I just stared at it. I wasn’t sure I could take any bad news this early in the morning.

But the name flashing across the screen made my heart kick up.

Thomas Calloway.

I snatched it up, gripping it so tightly my knuckles ached. “Hello?”

---