Page 3 of The Bad Boy Rule

“Yeah, yeah, I know. How’s your ma doing?” His gaze finds mine as he reaches for his rag, cleaning up some of the oil from his hands. “She doing okay?”

“She’s good.”

Even though he doesn’t really know the full extent of the shit that’s going on, I think he suspects, and this is his way of asking without really asking.

He’s likely suspected since the day I stumbled into the shop at fourteen with two black eyes and a busted lip, asking for a job when I didn’t know the first fucking thing about cars.

It’s probably the reason that he allows me to work the schedule I do, primarily at night, unless it’s during the off-season and I don’t have any classes scheduled.

Any work he doesn’t get done with the guys during the day is what I handle at night.

We’ve made it work, and I like it this way.

The quiet.

The solace I get from the chaos at home.

And one day, I’ll find a way to repay Tommy for doing this for me.

For offering me a place to sleep in the apartment above the shop whenever I need. For never asking questions that I don’t want to answer and probably never will.

He’s given me so much over the last six years, and I’m not sure if he really even realizes. He’s saved my life more than once.

Tommy nods, his sharp eyes crinkling in the corners. “That’s good. Had a few cars come in earlier, hoping to get ’em out by the end of this week if we can. Damn electric car with a battery issue. Fucking shocker.”

He hates electric cars, and if he didn’t need the business, he’d probably turn them away at the door. Says America was better when it was muscle and not electric bullshit.

“Got it. I’ll get it done. See you tomorrow,” I respond, lifting my fingers in a salute.

For a second, he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, hesitating like he might say more, but after a beat, he nods, muttering a goodbye.

Thankfully, it only takes me a few hours to work my way through the cars, so I make it home just after 2:00 a.m.

I’m so fucking tired that I nearly fell asleep driving home, and I desperately need to catch up on sleep. I’m just gonna take a quick shower, scarf down some food, and hit the sack in the next thirty minutes, which means I should be able to get roughly six hours of sleep before my business economics class.

Now that classes have started again, I’ve got to cut back my hours at Tommy’s. Hockey season is about to start, so between managing to keep my grades passing and the grueling practice, conditioning, and games schedule, I’ll barely have time to sleep, let alone pick up any shifts.

I’m just going to have to rely on my savings to get me by.

Getusby.

Dropping my bag by the front door, I quietly kick off my shoes. My gaze bounces around the living room, landing on Ma curled up on the couch, sound asleep.

She looks so serene that it makes a space somewhere in my chest begin to ache. I wish that her life was easier and that she could have the peace she deserves.

But she never will. Not when she stays in this house with him.

I’ve tried to convince her to leave, begged her more times than I can count to let me find us both an apartment, but she refuses. She says that he’s her husband and that she’s not going to leave him, even when it’s rough, that they made vows and she can’t abandon them.

Like him trying to beat the shit out of her is arough spot.

That’s why I still live at home and not on campus in the dorms. Because I’m not leaving her here with him.

I can’t. I’m fucking terrified of the thought of not being here to protect her.

There aren’t many things that make me weak. Not when I’ve spent a lifetime building a wall around anything that could hurt me.

But Ma?

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