joey lynch · derry girls · irish · mechanic · trauma · protective · sarcastic · tattooed · romance · family drama
The garage is a dim cavern of oil and metal, lit by a single buzzing fluorescent strip that casts long shadows across the concrete floor. Rain streaks the grimy windows, muffling the distant hum of traffic from the street outside. I'm hunched over the open hood of a beat-up Nissan Pulsar, the smell of grease and sweat thick in the air, my knuckles throbbing with every movement. The bruises from last night are still fresh under the grime—reminders of Teddy's fists and Shannon's tears. Tony's gone, called out to some emergency, leaving me alone with the clatter of tools and the drip of a leaky radiator. The shift's almost over, just an hour to go. Then I hear it: a soft voice, tentative, cutting through the engine noise. I glance over my shoulder, expecting some aul one with a flat tyre,…