Page 109

Story: Reclaimed

“Even if Harley did leave me,” I said in a low, dangerous voice. The taste of smoke burned on my tongue. “You wouldn’t have a chance with a woman of her caliber. She likes her men to be…” I bared my fangs again. “Men. And you don’t meet her standards. Now if you’re done wasting my time, I’ll ask you to get the hell out of my garage.”

Forest glared at me. I held his gaze. He barely lasted two breaths before he cut his eyes to the side. “All right, guys,” he called to his lackeys. “Wrap it up. We’re heading back to the station.”

As the cops filed out of the garage, Forest narrowed his eyes. “You watch your back, Ace.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Always do.” Then I called out to the employees waiting outside. “Come on, guys! Let’s get this place cleaned up!”

The employees filed back in and started complaining and cursing at the state of the place.

“I know, I know,” I said. “We’ll get it put back together quick. And you’ll all get a round on me after work.”

Hawk came to my side and helped me right an upturned work table. “So, if there’s nothing here, then where…?”

“Nowhere with our names attached,” I said. “I’ve got the shipments moving around. And the documentation has already been destroyed.”

Hawk grinned. “Never doubted you, Ace.”

For a short-term solution, it worked. But we couldn’t keep doing this. Between Sean’s interference and Forest’s grudge, I’d slip up at some point. We’d get caught again.

I had to speed things up. I had to find Sean before something went really wrong.

I worked with Hawk and the rest of the garage guys for the rest of the afternoon, putting the space back together and reorganizing some long-ignored tool cabinets.

“All right, guys, good work today,” I said once the place was cleaned up. “Go on down to Dane’s Place, I’ve got a tab there.” The bar, a common watering hole for shifters and humans alike, was right off the Lakeview main strip. I preferred to treat my employees at a business instead of the clubhouse.

“You’re not coming?” Hawk asked.

“I might swing by, but I want to run home first.”

My dragon was twitchy. Maybe it was the events of the afternoon, but something told me to get home and check on Harley and Dylan.

Hawk frowned, but he nodded. “Call me if you need anything.”

The guys went toward Lakeview proper, and I hopped on my bike and rode back toward home. When I arrived, the windows were lit with warm, gold light, and the house looked as cozy as ever. My dragon was still antsy, urging me to hurry inside.

I stepped inside. Harley was in the kitchen—her hair pulled into a bun and a slight crease between her eyebrows. She was wearing one of my old T-shirts and kneading a ball of dough on the marble countertop. A pan of onions were caramelizing on the stove, and she periodically paused in her kneading to stir the onions to keep them from burning.

“Let me guess, pizza night?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen.

“If I can get everything together,” Harley muttered.

I kissed her cheek. “Everything okay?”

She sighed. “It’s fine. Just a frustrating day.”

“How so?”

She nodded over at the couch. Dylan was buried in the corner, tucked under a blanket. He was so still I hadn’t even seen him when I walked in. He had his headphones in his ears, his brows pulled together as he focused on the handheld game console.

“Dylan!” Harley said.

No response.

“Dyl!”

No response.

Harley exhaled hard. “Dylan Founty, listen to me.”

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