Page 36 of Unveiled Wounds

“You don’t have a woman,” I reminded him, not being able to hide my smirk. It wasn’t a secret that Count would eventually claim Kelly, if she’d have him.

“It’s only a matter of time. She won’t be able to resist my charm.” Count shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms popping.

“You haven’t even seen her since the lockdown went into place.” Grease joined in, digging at Count.

“That you know of.”

“You stalking her?” I asked, instantly losing my good humor. I wasn’t sure if we were going to have a problem. If he was, I’d have to tell Sabre and pray the Old Ladies didn’t catch wind. If they did, Count was a goner.

“What do you consider stalking?” Count smirked.

“Fuck. Does she know you’re watching her?” I didn’t like where any of this was going.

“It’s not stalking if I’m looking out for her safety. She has a lab that lets out late and doesn’t live in the best of neighborhoods. I grab a prospect, and we watch her from the time she leaves the parking lot ’til the time she gets home.”

I rubbed my temples, easing the headache forming. “When are you going to man up and claim her? It’s only a matter of time before this backfires on you.”

“He’d actually have to speak to her,” Grease deadpanned.

“I speak to her.” Count wasn’t backing down as his brow furrowed.

“Okay, when was the last time you had an actual conversation with her that didn’t involve a grunt?” Grease shifted on his feet, preparing for a fight. No one wanted to challenge Count, but we wouldn’t back down either.

“Good point. I have to work on that.” Count smacked Grease on the shoulder.

“So, this place needs paint first.” I brought the conversation back around to why the three of us were standing in the middle of an empty garage. “We can get the wise men to do it as long as you don’t look too closely.”

“Man, it still has to look presentable. I have whales that are dying to get scheduled, but we don’t have enough space andpeople. I know Sabre likes to keep everything in-house, but I may need to hire from the outside.”

“We know that the old garage doesn’t have a workflow, or whatever the fuck that’s called. If you had a better setup, would that make you faster, Grease?” I was shooting shit, just thinking off the cuff, but I might have been on to something.

“What we really need is stations, like if we had one section for soccer moms, another for the bike repairs, and then the whales in the back, away from everything else. Those people are neurotic, and I don’t want their babies mixed in with the chip-infested SUVs.”

“If Iron Shield Design takes over the layout, how much are you paying?” I asked Count. I’d just gotten back to the clubhouse when Count had walked into the main room with Meredith’s employee paperwork. He had sat with her while she read it, ensuring it accurately reflected her offer before signing. I had thought little about it, but as I’d watched her sign her maiden name, I got angry. Meredith was my wife, and she should have my name. As soon as this fucking shit with the cartel was over, Cyph was going to fix that.

“I need a proposal, but if she included a reasonable hourly rate, I can make it work.” Count’s lips twitched, knowing exactly where I was going with this.

“Hang on, Grease. I have an idea.” I pulled out my phone and dialed.

“Hello?” Just the sound of her voice gave me peace, and I closed my eyes for a second.

“Hey, baby, I need a favor.”

“You got straight to business. This must be serious.” Meredith laughed.

“Here’s the deal: I’m standing in the new auto body shop Count bought Grease and the boys, but it’s literally an empty garage.” I shot Count a look, but he didn’t even humor me witha smile. “If this space is going to work, it’s going to need a layout that keeps everything separate. There’s only one person I trust to design this to their specifications.”

“So, you want to use me for free labor, like I have nothing better to be doing?” she asked, her tone showing her displeasure.

“I didn’t say free labor, so don’t give me that shit. Count said he’ll pay the design firm a regular standard rate.” I gentled my tone, hoping she would understand. “Baby, you’re the only one who can take Grease’s vision and actually make this place work. Without separated work spaces, they’ll slow down, and the custom restorations bring in a shit ton of money.”

“Alright. I’m not busy, anyway,” she huffed.

“Don’t think I don’t know you’re working on the banquet center, but this is a top priority.”

“Who the fuck told you that? No more animal channel for him.”

I had to get her back on track, or Dead was going to feel her wrath, and he hadn’t been the first one to tell me. She’d fallen asleep one night, mid draw. “What do you need while we’re here?”

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