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CHAPTER TWELVE

Gray

“I got Zacos for lunch!” I called as I returned from a tow job that took me right by the hole-in-the-wall restaurant. The bike business was slow to take off, and I was still in purgatory until it did. “Who wants some?”

Bailey slid out from beneath a 1999 Oldsmobile Alero and wiped his hands on a rag. “Hell yeah.”

Jose looked up from the toolbox he was digging through. “Enough for me too?”

“Of course, man. Can’t leave you hanging.”

Bailey tugged out his phone as we all headed toward Holden’s office. “I’ll text Axel. He loves those tacos.”

“Tacos? What the fuck are you saying?” I set the greasy bag in the center of Holden’s desk and waved Jose into the first chair. Then Bailey and I raced for the second. The little brat beat me by two seconds.

With a grumble, I settled my ass on a stack of tires instead.

“They’re tacos filled with pizza,” Bailey said, as if I was a toddler who didn’t see the obvious.

Holden shook his head as I pulled one out and folded back the paper. “Wrong. It’s still pizza, even if it’s folded into a taco shape. These are not ordinary taco shells.”

I pointed at Holden. “Yes, that. Pizza imitating tacos, maybe, but not tacos.”

“No, they’re tacos because?—”

“You’re all wrong,” Axel said as he came in and bent to scoop up two pizza tacos. “They’re sandwiches.”

“What?” Bailey exclaimed, face twisting in horror. “Take that back!”

We all busted up laughing. Only Jose was quiet, being the smart one who’d left the bickering to us so he could stuff his face.

I unwrapped my pizza shaped like a taco—because it was pizza first and foremost, thank you very much—and took a big bite. “I don’t care what you all call it, it’s damn good.”

Axel perched his ass on the corner of Holden’s desk. “It’s the food putting that stupid grin on your face, huh?”

“What else would it be?” I asked between bites.

“Getting laid by the hot banker?” Axel suggested.

“What now?” Holden asked. “I thought Gray came home alone last night?”

“Well, sure, after he hoofed it over from the auto shop when his hookup left.” Axel gestured from his eyes to mine. “I see everything.”

Holden paused, giving his desk a wary look. “You didn’t…”

“No! Not in your office.”

“One of our customers’ cars?” Holden asked, frowning hard now.

“No.” I paused. “Well, not inside it?—”

“Ugh, Gray! I’ve been working on that sedan,” Bailey cried. “I’ve probably got your jizz germs all over me!”

The rumble of motorcycles outside saved me from the rest of Bailey’s dramatics. I shoved the last bite of pizza taco into my mouth, wiped my fingers on a napkin, and jogged into the garage bay.

Hot damn. Two bikers had just rolled up on a Suzuki V-Strom and a Harley Road Glide. Looked like I’d finally be free of tow-truck duty, and not a moment too soon.

They were both nice bikes. The V-Strom was a great adventure bike, but the Glide was a cruiser that could travel long distances in real comfort.

The Harley rider pulled off his helmet, and I recognized Rocky—a guy I’d talked to at the pool hall before Emory showed up.

“Hey, man, I came to see about getting my daughter’s bike serviced. She’s going on a cross-country ride with some friends before college starts, and I don’t want to deal with any roadside emergencies.”

“You worry too much.” The second rider tugged off her helmet, revealing curly red hair and a splash of freckles. “Just because you can’t handle a real ride anymore?—”

“Oh! You want to come at me, babydoll?” Rocky said with a playful scowl.

“Anytime, old man,” she said.

Rocky laughed. “I told Annalise she could go, but only if she gets her bike checked out first. Pretty sure she needs new brake pads.”

“Sure, sure. So a full tune-up? What about this bad boy?” I gestured toward the Harley, knowing better than to touch a man’s bike without his say-so. “He need some TLC?”

“Nah. Just took it to Omaha a couple of weeks ago. Didn’t realize you all were doing this.”

Damn. I was grateful for any bike jobs that came my way, but I’d love more than just one here and there.

“Yeah, it’s a recent development. We’re still trying to get the word out.”

“Well, you do right by Annalise, and I’ll tell everyone. I’d love to not haul ass over to Omaha anytime we need something.”

“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 know that, 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 their home. 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.”

“ You live 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.”

Holden came storming out of the office, Jose following on his heels with wide eyes. “What the fuck is going on out here?”

Axel turned all his fury in that direction. “You said the old man took out a loan and we’d have to figure out how to pay it. You didn’t say anything about selling parts of the property off!”

Holden sent me a flat look. “What did you tell them?”

“The truth, obviously,” Bailey said. “You said you’d figure it out, and we trust you, so we rolled with it. But you didn’t say it was this bad.”

“I was looking for solutions first ,” Holden said. “I would never make a decision to sell the junkyard—” Axel made a growling sound in his throat. “— or the house without consulting you.”

“Yeah, right. You make decisions all the time without consulting us,” Axel grumbled.

“That’s not?—”

“No, he’s right,” Bailey jumped in. “You didn’t even tell us Gray was coming back!”

“You didn’t even tell us you knew why he left,” Axel added.

“Fuck!” I turned and punched the wall, my knuckles busting as they met concrete. I howled with a combination of agony and rage and collapsed to my knees, cradling my hand. “It always comes back to me, doesn’t it? I fucked up too big to ever get past it.”

Axel crouched down beside me, reaching for my wrist. “Are you nuts, man? This isn’t your fault.”

Bailey dropped to his knees on my other side, leaning in to look at my bleeding hand. A sharp, knifing throb had started up. Like someone was stabbing me in the fingers over and over.

“How are you gonna do this bike job with a busted-up hand?”

I dropped my head back against the wall and groaned. “I don’t know.”

“He’s going to need help,” Holden said. “We’ll do it together. We can’t afford to drop the ball. We’re still earning people’s trust.”

“What about this loan bullshit?” Bailey asked. “We can’t sell the house.”

“I know.” Holden sounded tired. “We have some tough choices to make. If we want to save the business, something will have to go. We just can’t make 50K overnight.”

“Building up the bike business is pointless, then,” Axel said in a hollow voice. “It can’t offset that much debt.”

“The loan isn’t the only expense we have to think about,” Holden said quietly. “We’re running on very thin margins. If we don’t expand, there’s really no point to saving the business. We’ll have to sell everything and start over.”

“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” I said tentatively. “A fresh start for everyone.”

Axel dropped my hand with a sound of disgust and got to his feet. “You would say that. You gave up on this place a long time ago.”

“Ax—”

“Don’t bother pretending to debate it,” he said, directing his words to Holden. “I already know I’m going to lose. Why bother saving something that’s for me and some strays, right?” Bitterness tinged his tone. “Gray’s been gone ten years, but his opinion counts for more than mine. And it always has.”

“That’s not true,” Holden started. “I?—”

My brother didn’t stick around. For all the times he’d given me shit for running away, he sure was good at running from his own battles.

Maybe I’d taught him that.

“Fuck,” Holden said. “I better go after him. Do you need the ER?”

I flexed my fingers, swearing loudly as pain rocketed through them. “I don’t think anything’s broken.”

Holden nodded and took off outside to track down Axel. Hopefully, he could reassure him that his needs mattered, too.

“Here.” Jose pushed past Bailey to set a plastic baggie full of ice over my knuckles. “Ice them. Take some painkillers. You’ll survive.”

“Thanks, man.”

Jose hesitated a beat. “Haven’t seen anyone punch the wall like that since your foster dad died.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, but damn, Jose’s punch landed with more force than my own had. The idea I was following in the old hateful man’s footsteps? That didn’t sit right.

“It was stupid,” I said. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

Bailey nudged my thigh with his foot. “Certainly got our attention, though. I thought I was the dramatic one.”

“You just about got your ass kicked by Axel,” I told him. “So maybe we’re all feeling a little dramatic right now.”

Bailey grimaced. “Shouldn’t have called him a weirdo.”

Holden returned twenty minutes later, his mood looking as if it had done little to improve. I was walking Jose through some basic maintenance steps on the bike while Bailey buried his hands in the guts of that Alero. Hopefully by tomorrow, my hand would be recovered enough that I could do the brake job on my own.

Holden vibrated with a tension that said he kind of wanted to punch walls too. He had more restraint than me, which was typical. My brother was tightly controlled—he couldn’t function otherwise.

“I’m going to fix this,” he said without so much as a hello. “I don’t know how yet, but I will. I didn’t pull this shop out of the trash heap and bring us all together again to let it tear us apart now.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

His lips thinned. “I don’t know, but there’s got to be something the bank can do for us. I need to talk to Emory again.”

“As long as you don’t take it out on him.”

“Seriously?” He glared. “I can’t have you thinking with your dick right now.”

“Emory doesn’t want us to lose this place either,” I snapped. “We can’t blame him for the old man’s bad choices.”

“See? Your dick is more worried about Emory than your own fucking family.”

“Bullshit. I just have a clearer head than you. I’m not blinded by emotion.”

“Maybe you should be,” Bailey interjected. “This is our home and our business. Our lives, Gray.” He turned a look on Holden. “I’m with you, Holden. There’s got to be a loophole or payment plan, something they can do for us.”

They both turned to me, waiting for my next argument.

Fuck . Despite my assurances to Emory that this business shit wouldn’t come between us, it looked like my brothers had other plans.

“You all act like I don’t care about this family,” I rasped. “But I do. I’m not going to fight Emory. I already busted up my fist fighting myself. But I’ll fight for this business. For us. I’ll always fight for that. I can promise you that.”

“All right, then,” Holden said. “I can live with that.”