Da at the garage

Kian

I stepped into the garage, the familiar scent of grease, metal, and gasoline hitting me immediately. The noise of tools clanging, engines revving, and the general buzz of the place was like a second home now. Joey had said he wanted me to help out more, and I wasn't going to back out. It was better than doing nothing, especially after that phone call from my mam about the social services visit. I just needed to keep myself busy.

Joey was working on a car near the far end of the garage, crouched down, his hands deep in the engine. He didn't look up when I walked in, but he gave a quick nod. "Grab the tools from the shelf over there, Kian," he said without missing a beat. "We're going to need 'em."

I did as he asked, pulling out a toolbox from the shelf and setting it down beside him. I could tell he was in one of those moods where he preferred to work in silence, but I didn't mind. There were times when I didn't want to talk either. We were just here to get the job done.

"What's the job today?" I asked as I knelt beside him, opening the toolbox.

Joey looked over, wiping his hands on a rag. "Clutch needs replacing. This one's got some miles on it." He gestured to the car in front of him, a sleek black Audi that had definitely seen better days.

I nodded, picking up the tools and getting to work. The task wasn't too complicated, but it was all about precision. Joey had a way of explaining things that made sense without being too detailed, which was exactly what I needed. He didn't treat me like I was just some kid trying to prove something.

As we worked, the rhythmic clanking of tools and the buzz of the garage began to settle my mind. It was a good distraction, and for the first time in a while, I wasn't thinking about my mam, the visits, or everything else that felt like it was hanging over me.

Joey started to hum under his breath, a tune that I couldn't quite place. It was a strange thing to hear from him, since he was usually all business. But I guess everyone had their moments.

"Looks like you've got the hang of this pretty quick," he commented after a while.

I shrugged, not really sure how to respond. "I guess I learn fast."

He gave me a sideways glance, his face softening. "You sure do. Keep this up, and you might even make something of yourself, Kian."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just kept working in silence. The words hung in the air, but they didn't feel like pressure. It was more like he believed in me, even though I didn't feel like I deserved it.

A few hours later, we were almost done with the car. Joey stepped back, wiping his hands on the rag again.

"You're getting pretty good at this, Kian," he said, finally meeting my gaze. "I'm impressed."

I wasn't sure if he was just saying that to be nice, but it didn't matter. The praise felt different coming from him. It wasn't forced, or fake. He was actually giving me credit for something I'd done right. That meant more than I could put into words.

"Thanks," I muttered, not quite sure how to process it all.

Joey clapped me on the back as he stood up. "Alright, that's the last one for today. Let's grab a drink. You've earned it."

We both walked to the back of the garage where a small fridge was stocked with sodas. Joey grabbed a bottle of water, cracking it open. I took a Coke, cracking it open, and leaned against the counter, looking out at the garage.

"Good work today," Joey said again, his tone lighter now.

I gave him a small smile. "Yeah. It wasn't so bad."

"Stick with it," he said, handing me a paper towel. "You're gonna be alright, Kian. Just keep showing up. That's all it takes."

I nodded, feeling a sense of quiet pride in the moment. It was something I'd never gotten from my dad or anyone else. Maybe this whole job thing was the start of something better.

Just as I was wiping off my hands with a rag, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn't need to check to know who it was—Dad.

I hesitated before answering, my stomach tightening in anticipation of the inevitable argument.

"Yeah?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but it came out more tense than I'd like.

"Kian," Da's voice boomed through the phone, rough and impatient. "Where are you? I told you to meet me at the pub."

I glanced over at Joey, who was working on another car across the garage. I didn't want to drag him into this, but I could feel the tension already building. "I'm at work," I said, wiping my hands on my jeans. "I'm helping Joey at the garage."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. Then, his voice cut through the quiet, sharp and demanding. "I don't care about your garage, Kian. I need you here, now. You're coming down to the pub with me. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

I froze, trying to suppress the frustration bubbling up inside me. "Da, no," I said quickly, glancing at Joey again. "I've got a shift here. I'm not leaving."

"You're leaving, Kian," Dad replied, the anger in his tone rising. "You think you can just ignore me? I'm your father. You'll do what I say. Get yourself here now."

I could hear the noise of the pub in the background, the clink of glasses and low voices. He sounded like he was already having a few drinks. The last thing I needed was to get dragged into one of his messes.

"I'm not leaving the shop, Da," I said, trying to keep my voice calm but firm. "I've got work to do here. I'm not going back to that place."

There was a long pause on the other end. I could hear him breathing, his irritation growing. "You better be ready when I get there, Kian. Don't make me come down there and drag you out of that shop myself. You'll regret it."

I could feel the tension rising in my chest, but I wasn't going to back down. Not this time. "I'll be here, Da. I'll see you later. But I'm not leaving."

I hung up before he could say anything else. My heart was racing as I shoved the phone back into my pocket. I turned to Joey, trying to push aside the anger. "Sorry about that. I swear he won't leave me alone."

Joey looked at me with a raised eyebrow, his expression serious. "You've gotta stop letting him control you, kid. You've got a job here. You've got a chance to build something for yourself. Don't let him drag you back into his shit."

I nodded, trying to shake off the stress. "I know. I just... it's hard, you know?"

Joey clapped me on the shoulder. "I get it. But you're better than that, Kian. You've got a future here. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

I gave him a tight smile, trying to convince myself that I believed it. The thing was, though, I didn't know if I could keep standing my ground against Shane for much longer.

The sound of the garage door opening broke my concentration, and I looked up to see my dad's car pulling in. My stomach sank as I watched him park, his tires screeching as he slammed on the brakes. I knew what was coming, and I wasn't looking forward to it.

Joey, who had been working in the back of the garage, glanced over when he heard the car. Without saying anything, he stood up and walked toward me, his expression serious. I wiped my hands on a rag, trying to look busy, but inside, I was tense.

The door swung open, and there he was— my dad. He stormed in, the door slamming behind him. His eyes immediately locked onto me, and I felt the familiar wave of tension rise in my chest.

"Kian," Da's voice was rough, low, and commanding. "Let's go. You're coming with me."

I stood my ground, not even flinching. "I'm not going anywhere," I said firmly. "I'm working."

Dad's eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward. "You don't get to decide that, Kian. You're coming with me. Now."

I shook my head, my frustration building. "No, Da. I've told you before. I'm staying here. I'm not part of your mess anymore."

The anger flared in his eyes, but before he could say anything more, Joey appeared next to us, his expression hardening. "Shane," Joey said, his tone calm but firm, "get out of my shop."

I blinked, surprised by Joey's sudden intervention. Dad looked at Joey, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. "What did you say?" He asked, his voice dripping with anger.

Joey didn't flinch. "This is my business, Shane. And I said, get out. Kian's working here now. He's not leaving with you."

He took a step toward Joey, his fists clenching, but Joey didn't back down. He stood his ground, meeting Shane's gaze without fear.

"Joey," Shane growled, "You don't know what you're getting involved in."

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Joey replied, his voice unwavering. "This is Kian's chance. And you're not going to ruin it for him."

For a few tense moments, neither man said anything. The tension was palpable, and I could feel the weight of it in my chest. My dad's glare was almost suffocating, but Joey didn't budge. Finally, Shane broke the silence.

"You think you can just stop me, Lynch?" he sneered.

Joey's gaze was steady. "I don't care what you think. Get out."

There was a long pause as Shane looked between me and Joey, his anger still simmering but his options running out. He let out a frustrated grunt, spinning on his heel. "This isn't over, Kian," he spat, his voice full of venom. "I'll be back for you."

And with that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Joey let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing. "You okay, kid?" he asked me quietly.

I nodded, still processing the confrontation. "Yeah. Thanks, Joey. I didn't know you were going to do that."

Joey gave me a small smile, his eyes softening. "You're not alone in this, Kian. You don't have to deal with him by yourself."

I was surprised by how much that meant to me. For the first time in a long time, I felt like someone had my back. I didn't have to keep fighting this battle on my own.

I could see Joey's genuine care in his eyes, and for a moment, I let myself believe that maybe this was where I was supposed to be.