The customer was complaining angrily about the cost of one of the repairs, and just as he drew even with me, he taunted,
“I’m not paying this shit, so chase me down for it, I dare you!”
He was so enraged he was spittling in the air, and I didn’t think this nice motorcycle place deserved to get defrauded, so I plucked his wallet out and set it neatly on the counter.
The mechanic pointed at him and spun his chair so it was in front of the exit.
“You must be from out of town. Nobody leaves here without paying.”
For a second there was no sound except for the customer’s heavy breathing, and the clink and clank of tools working in the shop beyond.
Then the doorway darkened and I looked up to see him.
The Mangler was a giant, a massive bison-shaped man, with slicked-back dark hair, a grizzled brown-and-gray beard, oversized hawk’s nose, dark eyes, and a lined harsh face.
He was stupendously, breathtakingly ugly, but in a very interesting way. I had never seen a face like that in my life.
“You planning to skip out on the bill?” this man growled, and his voice was so low and deep I felt a shiver go up my spine.
CHAPTER 2
Polly
For the first time, the customer hesitated, and I saw a flicker of fear on his meaty, steroidy face. And who could blame him?
The Bonemangler was taller than any man I’d ever seen, with massive, clenched fists. He looked like he could break rocks with his teeth.
“Er—it’s quite a lot to pay,” the customer mumbled. “And—did itreallyneed?—”
“Are you planning to skip out on the damn bill?”
“Oh, I think you already put your wallet here,” I put in, tapping on the counter. “So you must’ve been willing to pay.”
The customer turned in relief, big bullets of sweat rolling down his tomato-colored face.
“Y-yes, that’s right. I wasn’t intending to skip out, sir. Here you go.”
He shoved the card at Mac.
There was a little smirk on the man in the wheelchair’s face as he folded big arms across his chest.
As soon as the card went through, the customer grabbed the receipt and practically scampered out of the office.
“Nice,” Mac said, grinning at me. He obviously knew what I’d done.
See, I was right. They were nice people here.
“What do you want?” a deep, gravelly voice growled, and I jumped to realize the Bonemangler was addressingme.
“I’m here to apply for the job,” I squeaked out.
He glared at me, then at Mac.
“You wouldn’t work,” he said shortly. “Goodbye. You two, go back to work.”
There was an aura of restrained strength about him, like if he didn’t hold himself back, he’d go crashing right through the walls.
But something about the Shop interested me. There had been a lot of wild herbs around the side, looking very unkempt, and I itched to get my hands on them.