I look at the name tag on my chest once again—Victor. He did everything in his power to discourage Isa from hiring me. Trey didn’t have faith in me getting my hands dirty, either. I’m not going to let that bother me, though. Their lack of confidence in me isn’t stopping me from proving to everyone, including myself, that I can do this.

“Follow me,” Alex says, leading me to a huge toolbox in the middle of the shop. “I need to teach you the basics of an oil change.”

As he leads me under one of the cars, I put a hand over my head as if that’ll help if the car drops. “What if the car falls off and crashes onto us?” I ask.

“It won’t,” he says. “The lift is solid.”

I glance at the lift holding up the car. I’m not convinced it’s safe, but Alex acts like it’s no big deal if he gets smashed by a falling three-thousand-pound hunk of metal.

“Here,” he says, shining a flashlight under the car. “You have to find the drain plug. See it right there?”

I put my hand on my back to support it so I can twist my body without too much stress on my spine. “No.”

He groans the slightest bit. “Give me your hand,” he says, then places my fingers on the plug. “Feel that?” he asks.

“Yeah. I feel it.”

“All right, Fuentes. I’ll take it from here,” echoes a familiar voice from the front of the shop. It’s Vic, wearing a scowl on his face. “If anyone’s gonna show Monika what to do around here, it’s gonna be me from now on.”

Chapter Thirty-seven

VICTOR

When I walk in the shop, this dude named Alex Fuentes who Isa went to high school with was standing under a Buick showing Monika how to do an oil change. It wouldn’t be so bad if Fuentes looked like an ogre or that nerd Bernie, but he doesn’t.

Not by a long shot.

The pendejo resembles a model or actor, and he’s showing off his ripped muscles in a black tank. When his hand touches Monika’s as he instructs her how to change the oil on the car, my hands ball into fists.

I haven’t seen Alex in forever. His cousin was Enrique. Supposedly Fuentes is at Northwestern studying medicine or something like that. He used to come by more often, but that was before I started working for Isa.

“Oh, really?” Alex says. “’Cause from what Isa told me, you’ve been upstairs sittin’ on your ass. I’m here to help Isa because you’ve slacked off,” Alex grumbles as he leaves Monika under the car to fetch an oil collector.

“Fuck you, man,” I say. He has no clue what the hell I’ve been through. I’m not about to be judged by him, or anyone else.

Alex stops in his tracks and turns to me. “What’d you say?”

“Fuck. You.”

“Vic, stop acting like a jerk,” Monika chimes in. “He’s right.”

“It’s cool, Monika.” Alex seems amused that someone would challenge a guy like him. “Listen, amigo,” he says, stepping closer. “You can either help or get the hell out of here. Which is it?”

He holds out the oil collector as we stare each other down.

“Victor,” Monika says in a warning tone.

I keep my eyes on Fuentes, but Monika’s voice echoes in my ear. My instinct is to throw the first punch, especially with a guy like Fuentes who won’t back down. My veins are fired up and my blood is pumping hard. I don’t give a shit if he’s tough. I’m not afraid. We can battle it out right here.

Trey isn’t here to protect Monika from everyone and everything—so I convince myself that as of now it’s my job.

I can’t be her protector when she’s pissed at me, so I back down.

My eyes focus on the oil collector still in Alex’s hand.

I grab it away from him and roll my eyes when he gives me a satisfied nod.

“You remind me of myself when I was a punk,” Fuentes says. “All piss and vinegar. Wait until a girl comes along who’ll bring you to your knees. Dudes like you aren’t immune, güey.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I mumble, glad he has a wife and kid to keep him occupied so he’s not hanging around here all day and night. “I’m nothin’ like you.”

“You have no clue.”

I step under the car next to Monika, who’s wearing my coveralls. They’re too big on her, but damn, she could be the centerfold for any magazine.

“I don’t want you to teach me.” She points to Alex. “I’d rather have him do it.”