Free SweetlyBad by Anya Breton

really could move things with their minds? Because he had looked furious right before Jared fell on his ass. If looks could kill…
    Blah. Erica had work to do. She didn’t have time to ponder
wild theories about her customer.
    She ignored the thunk of Jared closing his truck door.
Though her confidence was shaken by both visitors, she wouldn’t let it affect
her work. There was a brake line to fix. Erica needed her entire concentration
to make sure it was done properly. She couldn’t afford another broken-down car
and unhappy customer. She got to work.
    “About Boston.” Drew. She’d forgotten about him while she
checked the car’s fluids. “Like I said, I can’t pay you right now—” Drew’s
words cut off in a strangled choke.
    Erica whirled around and found his eyes bulging out of their
sockets. She bounced into action, charging across the garage. Though he
couldn’t breathe, he wasn’t grasping at his throat. Instead he lurched toward
the garage door. That made it easier for her to grab him beneath the rib cage.
She gave a good heave, hoping to dislodge whatever he’d eaten.
    His palm came up. “Stop,” he said, wheezing. “Not. Choking,”
he choked.
    Drew slammed into her as if he’d been pushed. They went over
in a tangle of limbs. Erica’s head impacted against the concrete as Drew’s
weight bore down on her, his limbs rigid like plaster casts. Though she saw
stars, she was coherent enough to hear the garage door rise.
    How had that happened?
    “Haizea,” an unfamiliar male growled at the edge of the
room. “I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for years .”
    Drew’s weight somehow increased as though he’d ingested a
barnyard creature after he landed on her. Erica struggled for air. Footsteps
stomped menacingly toward them.
    “I’m not even surprised it was your own mother who put the
hit out on you.”
    “Err-rrica,” Drew stuttered in between gasps. “Lift.”
    Lift? Lift what ? She couldn’t move with him
flattening her!
    His weight doubled . The pressure on her rib cage
would surely puncture something tender and important if she didn’t escape.
    “This is for fucking Hannah four hours before our wedding.
You fuck ,” the unfamiliar male ground out.
    “ Li-if-t ,” Drew repeated, his breathing more
constricted than ever.
    Black spots obscured her vision. Erica’s mind was sluggish
from the pain. Between the dark blotches she could just make out a scrawny male
two feet ahead and a foot to the right. He rolled onto the balls of his feet,
toward them as if he were a rocking horse. The maniacal gleam in his eye was
fixed on Drew.
    Erica didn’t know how he was accomplishing it but the
stranger appeared to be doing something to Drew. And in turn doing something to her .
    Frantically she searched for a way out of the situation. She
couldn’t budge Drew. Not even to roll him off. And he didn’t seem capable of
doing anything apart from gasping for air and weighing her down. If only there
was a way to lift him off her. With how much he weighed her down, she’d need
hydraulics to do it…
    Hydraulics. That must be what Drew meant by
lift!
    Their attacker stood on the left arm of garage bay three’s
hydraulic lift. She only needed to reach the button to send him on a little
ride. Erica tossed her head about, searching for something to throw. Pliers lay
discarded inches to the left.
    She worked her arm out from beneath the insane weight of the
ordinarily trim guy. Stretching her limb against the resistance pulled at least
one muscle but the discomfort was worth it when she curled her fingers around
the metal. She slipped it to her side and eyed the distance to her target.
She’d never pitched a softball flat on her back with a monstrous weight bearing
down. But something told her this was literally life or death.
    Erica pitched the pliers. The tool hurdled through the air.
The pliers grazed the button before falling to the floor with a clank. The lift
started up, knocking the