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chapter 95
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2026-09-06 13:07:50
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His Best friend's Daughter chapter 111
Kyra POVThe sharp, acrid smell of burnt garlic and scorched olive oil filled the kitchen, clinging heavily to the air and drifting through the open back window into the cool evening breeze.I stood in front of the stove, holding a wooden spoon in my hand like a weapon, staring in absolute, silent horror at the black, ruined disaster sitting inside the cast-iron skillet. What had started an hour ago as an ambitious attempt at a homemade garlic butter pasta dish was now reduced to a smoking, charred mass stuck firmly to the bottom of Tor’s favorite pan.The smoke detector in the hallway gave a sudden, ear-splitting screech. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"Shoot! No, no, no!" I gasped, frantically waving a dish towel at the ceiling.I jumped up and down on tiptoes, trying to fan the thick grey cloud away from the plastic sensor, but the alarm just kept blaring, echoing through the quiet house like an air raid siren. I grabbed a wooden dining chair, dragged it across the linoleum, and scrambled up on
His Best friend's Daughter chapter 110
Joint POVKyraThe morning sun had barely cleared the tops of the pine trees when Rayne’s car pulled up to the curb across from the shop.I sat in the passenger seat, my fingers tightly interlaced in my lap, staring through the windshield at the quiet building. I hadn't slept more than two hours. Every time I closed my eyes, the cruel online comments flashed behind my eyelids, echoing like an endless, suffocating drumbeat. But sitting in that apartment hiding under a blanket felt like surrendering, and I was done surrendering.Rayne cut the engine and looked over at me, her expression soft but guarded. "You sure about this, Kyra?""I'm sure," I said quietly, unbuckling my seatbelt.I stepped out into the crisp morning air, holding a plastic bag filled with hot breakfast sandwiches and two large mugs of black coffee from the corner deli. As I walked across the gravel driveway, the metallic smell of fresh paint and harsh chemical stripper hit my nose.Then I saw the front wall.A huge,
His Best friend's Daughter chapter 109
Tor POVThe midnight air was thick with the heavy, damp chill of early autumn, carrying the quiet, sharp scent of river fog and wet asphalt.I pulled the truck onto the quiet stretch of industrial road leading to the shop, the headlights cutting pale, yellow beams through the low-hanging mist. It was past two in the morning. My shoulders were tight, every muscle in my back aching from a fourteen-hour shift spent wrestling with rusty exhaust manifolds and rebuilding a stubborn transmission. I’d driven Kyra back to Rayne’s apartment hours ago, waiting by her bedside until her soft, rhythmic breathing told me she’d finally fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.Seeing her break down in the shop today had torn a raw, bleeding hole straight through my chest. She was trying so damn hard to be strong, offering up her mother’s heirlooms and her own gear just to keep my head above water. But I wasn't going to let this town or a bunch of internet cowards drain the light out of her eyes. I’d break
His Best friend's Daughter chapter 108
Kyra POVThe air inside the motorcycle shop smelled of heavy gear oil, cold metal, and stale black coffee.I stood near the entrance of the main service bay, my fingers wrapped tightly around the straps of my leather tote bag. The high ceilings usually echoed with the loud, metallic clatter of wrenches, the hiss of air hoses, and the booming laughter of mechanics shouting over the radio. Today, the space was suffocatingly quiet. Three of the five hydraulic lifts sat empty, their pristine iron arms raised like hollow skeletons in the dim morning light.Out on the street, a dark sedan slowed to a crawl. A phone camera glinted behind a tinted window before the car sped off down the pavement, kicking up a small cloud of dust.My stomach twisted into an agonizing, painful knot.It was my fault, all of it.The anonymous comments online, the cruel headlines, the canceled service contracts, and the sudden, terrifying ghost town Tor’s business had become over the last forty-eight hours, it all
His Best friend's Daughter chapter 107
Tor POVThe high-pitched, relentless ring of the shop’s landline phone echoed off the exposed brick walls of the garage for the hundredth time since seven this morning.It buzzed, chimed three times, hit the automated machine, and then went dead for two seconds before starting the entire cycle all over again. Over and over. A shrill, mechanical alarm that cut straight through the low hum of the exhaust fans and the heavy smell of gear oil and stale coffee.I didn't answer it. I hadn't answered it in four hours.I stood over the hydraulic lift in the center bay, my knees locked tight, holding a torque wrench in my right hand. The bright overhead shop light caught the polished chrome frame of a 2018 Softail, illuminating every speck of grease on my forearms. I leaned my weight forward, set the socket against the rear axle nut, and pulled until the wrench gave a sharp, metallic click.Across the bay, the main glass display window offered a clear view of the street out front. Every few mi
His Best friend's Daughter chapter 106
Kyra POVThe late afternoon sun was beginning its slow descent over the horizon, casting a warm, golden haze across the gravel parking lot behind the animal shelter.My feet ached from walking back and forth across the hard concrete floors all day, and my hands were still faintly scented with lavender soap and puppy shampoo. Despite the lingering physical exhaustion, a quiet, unfamiliar sense of stillness had settled into my ribcage. Spending the day helping Mary unload crates, feeding the newly arrived rescues, and surrounded by people who didn't look at me like I was a tragic headline had been the exact remedy my frayed nerves needed.The deep, unmistakable rumble of a V-twin engine echoed through the gravel lot, instantly drawing my gaze toward the driveway.Tor’s heavy black Harley rolled to a stop near the edge of the wooden fence. He kicked down the kickstand, cut the ignition, and pulled off his helmet in one smooth, practiced motion. His dark hair was windblown, stuck to his f
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