The Obsession(82)

“Christ,” he muttered as he ruined a perfectly good T-shirt.

“Chains for me?” Ky grinned at her. “You want to chain me up, Legs?”

“That’s what women will wonder when they look at the picture.” She gave him a mirror of his cocky grin. “Stud.”

“What kind of picture is this?” Trilby asked, holding his red shirt.

“Hot, sexy, rock-and-roll. If you don’t like it, we can go with the basics I already shot, and more along those lines. But let’s try this. I want that compressor over here, and that grease-gun thing. I want some old tires piled up, right about there. You wouldn’t happen to have a broken windshield.”

Xander tugged the stained and dirty shirt over his head. “I replaced one last week, haven’t taken it to the junkyard yet.”

“Perfect. Bonus round. Haul it in here.”

“I don’t get this,” Dave muttered, and sniffed at the sleeve of the army jacket.

“I do.” Lelo rubbed Tag, grinned at her. “Open it up, guys. We’re the Wreckers, right? We’re a f*cking garage band. We’re in a garage. Let’s use it.”

“Now you’re talking. I want some tools.” Lips curved, eyes focused, Naomi nodded. “Big, man-sized tools.”

—

Xander didn’t want to think about how long it would take to put everything back where it belonged. The bay turned into a jumble of car parts, tools, and musical instruments.

He thought he had fairly good vision, but it seemed too art house, over the top, and out of the box.

And he was sitting on a freaking air compressor, with his beloved Strat in one hand and a cordless drill in the other. Ky wore chains bandolerostyle, and Dave looked baffled in Lelo’s grandfather’s ancient army jacket. She’d had Trilby lay his keyboard against a stack of tires.

The only person, besides Naomi, who seemed to think it was a fine idea was Lelo, sitting cross-legged on the concrete floor, with his bass in his lap, a grease gun held like a rifle.

She had their own music banging out on playback, and the fancy camera on a tripod. She took some shots, shook her head.

No one spoke as she pulled a bandanna out of the pile of clothes she’d rejected, dipped it into the can of motor oil, then walked to Dave.

“Come on, really?”

“Sorry. You’re just too clean-cut.” She dabbed and smeared some oil on his cheek.

She stepped back, angled her head.

“Lelo, lose the shoes. Just toss them to the side—beside you, a little in front. I need a hubcap.”

“I got one in the bed of my truck.”

When Lelo started to rise, she motioned him down. “I’ll get it.”

Dave turned to Xander when she went out. “What the hell have you gotten us into?”

“I have no idea.”

“She’s hot.” Lelo lifted his shoulders. “Just saying. If you hadn’t seen her first, Xan, I’d make some major moves.”

“I just bought this shirt.” Trilby looked down at the tears. “I only washed it once.”

“Let her do what she does,” Ky suggested. “Xander’s bound to get lucky and owe us.”

“He already got lucky,” Naomi said. “You had two.” She arranged the hubcaps, stepped back. “Tag! Those aren’t yours.”

He’d nearly reached the discarded shoes, and now slunk back again.

“For now, everybody look straight at the camera. Badasses, give me some badass. Come on, let’s see you steam up the lens.”

She should’ve gotten a few beers in them first, she thought.

Still, it worked. The light, the setup, the arrangement worked.

She stepped to the side. “See me?”

“You’re right there,” Xander pointed out.

“So everybody sees me. Hold that thought.” She went behind the camera, looked through the lens. “Imagine me naked.”

And there we go.

“Again. Don’t lose it. Imagine me imagining you naked. Yeah, that’s got you thinking.”

She came out again, picked up one of the hubcaps, handed it to Dave. Went back.

“Ky, wrap one of the loose ends of chain around your fist. Go with the music, play.”

“I’ve got a hubcap,” Dave pointed out.

“And drumsticks. Play the hubcap. Play the tools, play the instrument, whatever strikes. Play. You’re onstage, you know how to interact onstage.”

She took them from play to war—instruments and tools as weapons. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the dog slinking back, caught him in the frame.

“Tag!” she called out just as he grabbed one of the shoes.

Lelo just laughed, hooked an arm around Tag. “Hey, he can be in the band.”

She took the shot, took two more while the mood held. Then stepped back.

“That’s a wrap, gentlemen.”

“That’s it?” Dave blinked at her.

“It takes her twice as long—more,” Xander corrected, “to set things up than to take the pictures.”

“You can see if it was worth it. I’ll set the laptop on slideshow. If you like the group shots, I’ve got time to take individuals—you’d want to change again.”