Page 98 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

I stared at him, my throat thick. He made it sound so easy.

If I walked away, everything would be solved. No more legal threats. No more draining my savings trying to fix this mess. No more worrying about the store, the debts, the responsibility I hadn't even asked for.

No more connection to this town.

Tothem.

Hank’s voice softened, coaxing. “You don’t want this, Aurora. This isn’t your life. You’ve got a career waiting for you, don’t you? A life back in the city? Why waste your time fighting a battle you can’t win? For a town that isn’t even yours.”

He took a step closer. “I mean, this isn’t your life, is it? Not yourreallife. But it’s threatening your real life. The more time you spend here, the more your future slips away.”

My grip tightened on the folder, my pulse pounding in my temples.

He was right. Selling would fix everything.

So why couldn’t I say yes?

I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to ignore the way my stomach twisted.

“I'll think about it,” I forced out.

Hank’s eyes gleamed, like he already knew the answer.

“Do that.” He took a step back, but not before resting a single hand on the counter, fingers tapping once against the wood. “But don’t take too long. This offer expires in three days.”

My chest constricted.

And then he was gone, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.

I stood there, gripping the folder like a lifeline, staring at the destruction around me.

Three days to decide whether to fight.

Or to let it all burn.

The second the door swung shut behind Hank, my legs gave out.

I hit the floor hard, my back against the counter, the folder still clutched in my trembling hands. My breath came too fast, too shallow, but I couldn’t seem to slow it down.

Three days.

That was all I had before this all spiraled even further out of my control.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my palms against my temples, but it didn’t stop the thoughts from swarming.

The smell of burnt wood still clung to the air, sharp and acrid, mixing with the lingering fear curling in my gut.

Someone had tried to burn Page Turners.

And now Hank Lawson was here, offering me an escape wrapped up in legal threats and smooth words.

My body shook, and I hated it. Hated that I felt so powerless. That I was sitting here on the floor, overwhelmed and completely alone.

Not alone.

I could call the Gradys. Ethan, Owen, Mason. Any one of them would come running if I asked.

But I couldn’t.

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