Broken: A Transformers Fanfic

Chapter 4: Not again

I felt two strong hands grab both of my ankles, and I mentally cursed.

Not again...

My eyes flew open as I was roughly dragged off my bed, narrowly avoiding hitting my head on the metal bed frame. "Dad!" I yelped, "what the hell?!" I kicked my legs, trying to get him to let go.

He let go and took a step back to avoid my flailing legs, mostly because I was in prime position to kick him where the sun didn't shine. "It's time to get up," he grunted before stalking out of the room.

"The fuck?" I muttered, clambering to my feet. "Most people get a normal wake-up call, but what do I get? A 'lemme drag you out of bed and then tell you it's time to get up'." I grumbled, grabbing a pair of shorts that would stop at mid-thigh as well as a grey camisole from my drawers. I scurried to my bathroom in order to snatch a quick shower.

After I had gotten my shower, I hurried downstairs to make my dad and I breakfast. I settled for something simple that wouldn't take long and would get me out of his sight faster: cinnamon toast. The choice was met with only mild complaining from my dad, and I noted that he looked pretty exhausted.

As I pretended to be completely enamored by cleaning the dishes, I pondered over the change in my dad's attitude. It was one of his better days - probably his best day thus far.

It wasn't natural.

Panic seized me suddenly as a new thought occurred.

Had he found the lambo?

If he did, then it's probably gone by now.

I hastily finished the dishes, gave an excuse. "I'm going to clean up the shed," and scurried out the back door towards the shed. I cracked the door enough to slip through. I didn't know for sure if he had found it, and I wasn't about to give it away in my hurry to ensure that my hypothesis wasn't right.

I heaved a sigh of relief, my hysteria washing away immediately.

The tarp covered lamborghini was still where I had left it last night. My barefeet padded softly towards it, and I threw back the tarp, taking a step back once I had done so. I had been so stressed out last night that I had forgotten to make a mental checklist of what supplies I was going to need to fix up the appearance.

"No time like the present," I mused aloud.

I was going to need to figure out a way to replace the window.

I'm sure James would be more than happy to assist.

Check.

I needed to obtain a buffer to buff out the dings.

I'll get that from James as well.

Check.

Last of all: I would need red paint to fix the awful looking paintjob.

All supplies I could get from James.

Perfect.

My hand immediately went to my pocket, and I cursed.

Of course, the one time I actually need it.

I groaned loudly, kicking a workbench, and of course, promptly recoiled. "Bad idea, bad idea." I whined, hopping around on one leg like some sort of demented bird, grasping my foot.

I needed some sort of plan to get the supplies without using my phone to contact them, but I was screwed over because I had no valid excuse to go into town.

I couldn't call him, and I couldn't go visit him.

Great.

"Why does this have to be so damn complicated?" I grumbled, stalking around the workshop. I ruffled through toolboxes as if by doing so, the needed materials would appear.