Page 53 of Outcast
“Appreciate it. Her bike will be good to go in three days. Sound good?”
“Perfect.” I clapped his arm. “And for the record, Annalise, your dad’s Harley is bad-ass.”
She groaned, and I added with a wink, “You’ve got to respect your motorcycle elders.”
Rocky clutched at his chest. “Just who do you think is footing this bill?”
I raised my hands. “Kidding. I own a Harley myself. Rode a V-Rod all the way from Missouri a couple of weeks ago.”
“But his Harley was still no match for my rottweiler,” Axel said with a grin as he joined us.
I went inside to start the paperwork on the job orders while he entertained them with the story of Sugar nearly taking me out when I arrived.
After they left, I wheeled in the bike and set it up on the far side of the garage. Then I tossed the keys to Axel.
“Looks like you’re on tow duty, sucker.”
“Like hell,” he said, tossing them to Bailey.
Bailey tossed them back to him. “I’ve got an Alero to fix.”
Axel’s jaw clenched. Uh-oh. I hadn’t been back long, but I knew my brother’s tells. He was about to blow.
“I run the junkyard. You think I just sit around and twiddle my thumbs?”
“Something’s gotta give,” I said. “Holden wants to build up the bike business. This has to be a priority, and you know Bailey’s barely keeping up on the auto repairs.”
Jose was only part-time, and even then, he called in sick every few days. He wasn’t as young as he used to be. And I did what I could, but cars had evolved since I regularly worked on them. I could only do basic maintenance, and not even that on the computerized models.
I might be the one who knew bikes best, but truth was, they were simpler.
Axel crossed his arms. Damn, my little bro had bulked up in the time I’d been gone. He loomed over me, looking like goddamned Thor ready to swing his hammer.
“We were just fine before you got here.”
“I know?—”
“You’re not the goddamned savior of Forrester Auto. You’ve been back two minutes, and you act like we couldn’t survive without you.”
“I knowthat, but we need this business.”
“Why? We were just fine without it, if you ask me.”
“Because we’re in debt, Ax!” I burst out. “That loan won’t pay itself. We might have to sell the tow truck or the house or the fucking junkyard to save the business. But if I can pull in more bike jobs, then maybe we at least have more cash flow to deal with whatever the fallout is.”
Axel’s eyes damn near bugged out of his head. “We can’t sell the junkyard! Where will Sugar and Taz and Oreo and Weasel go? That’s theirhome.That’s my ho?—”
His voice broke, facing twisting. My stomach twisted too. The last thing I wanted to do was bring my brother more pain.
“We can’t sell the house, though,” Bailey countered. “We live there.”
“Youlive there,” Axel countered.
“So do Holden and Gray,” Bailey argued. “You’re the only one who sleeps in the junkyard like a weirdo!”
Axel lunged toward Bailey, and I dove in front of him before he could smack some sense into the kid. “Whoa, whoa. No one’s selling anything yet.” I cast a look at Bailey. “And no one’s a weirdo.”
Bailey hung his head. “Sorry.”
