Page 13 of Wild Card (Foster Bro Code #2)

Axel

“Where the fuck are they…” I muttered as I scanned my phone for the third time, reviewing the inventory log.

I shouldn’t have spoken without double-checking, but damn it, I knew that truck and its parts were here somewhere.

I exited the inventory log and started toward the front gate. Banshee trotted at my heels. She’d bounced back from her dognapping adventure better than expected, but she still stuck close.

Every time I looked at her, my heart squeezed.

I owed Dalton big-time for whatever magic rabbit he’d pulled out of a hat with Rusty. I still couldn’t believe the guy had agreed. Banshee was worth some big bucks to the right buyers, and yet here she was, living the junkyard dog life.

“Wanna go for a walk over to the auto shop?” I asked her.

She yipped happily.

“Yeah, you like Holden, don’t you? Maybe you’ll adopt him, huh?”

Ever since he’d kept her overnight, he was her second-favorite human.

I opened the gate, and Banshee trotted out at my side.

Taz, my little Chihuahua, was quick on our heels.

The other dogs had run off to bark at the cats, so I closed and locked the gate behind me—I wasn’t ever leaving it unlocked again, even for a short visit to the auto shop—and started down the road.

Bailey was tapping away on his diagnostic computer next to a Mercedes, while Matteo looked over his shoulder. He was still learning the trade, and Bailey was the most capable mechanic we had.

I didn’t see Gray, but the tow truck was gone, so he’d most likely taken a call. Better him than me. We all took turns, and none of us enjoyed tow duty.

“Hey,” Matteo said, crouching down to pet Taz. “You brought my favorite.”

I chuckled. “Don’t let Gray hear you say that. He’s still traumatized.”

“Aw, Taz is a sweetie, aren’t you?”

Taz sneered, showing his teeth. Matteo wasn’t fazed. He scooped him up in one hand and gave him a scratch behind the ears. Taz snuggled against his chest, happy as a clam.

Banshee ran ahead of me into Holden’s office. I heard him greet her, then a happy little bark. At least she was sweetening him up for me.

“Gotta go talk to the boss man. Wish me luck.”

“Don’t spoil his mood,” Bailey warned without looking up. “I’ve already gotten one lecture about keeping the toolbox organized.”

“A lecture you need about twice a week,” I pointed out.

My little brother was a slob, but a heck of a mechanic after growing up working on cars.

Bailey flipped me the bird.

I grinned. “Aw, love you too.”

I blew him a kiss before stepping into Holden’s office, catching my oldest brother in an absolute love fest with Banshee. He was crouched on the floor and hugging her close, face buried in her fur.

“Am I interrupting?” I asked.

He straightened up, wearing a sheepish smile. “She’s just so affectionate. It’s hard to resist…”

“You shouldn’t, then. Carry on.”

Holden retook his seat. “I’m good. What brings you over?”

Banshee sat down by his chair, leaning against his leg. Holden dropped his hand to her head, idly stroking her. Almost as if he was starved for the tactile sensation—which, no doubt, he was.

“Can you check the junkyard inventory for a 2500 Ram? I want to confirm we had one come in.”

“Sure…” He focused on his computer screen, clicking the mouse as he navigated screens. “Yes, back in April.”

“Have we sold any of its parts?”

He did another search, eyes narrowed on the screen. “Yep. Sold a set of tires. And…some side mirrors? But that’s it.”

“No record of selling the rims with the tires?”

“No.” He glanced up with a frown. “Why?”

“Just checking.”

“Axel, we talked about you keeping better records. If you don’t know what we have or where to find it, then you’re costing us sales.”

“I know,” I said. “I just wanted to confirm they hadn’t sold before I went searching.”

“Ax—”

“I’ll find them, all right? Jesus. Just save the lecture for when I actually fuck up.”

“You’re costing yourself a lot of extra time by not staying more organized.”

I stood up. “Yeah, message received. I’d listen to more of your wisdom, but I have rims to find, and Dalton is picking me up for my mandatory animal shelter visit in an hour, so…”

I started toward the door, and Banshee reluctantly left Holden’s side to follow.

“Axel,” Holden called. “Take Matteo with you. He can help.”

I half turned, glaring at my brother. “I can handle my shit.”

“You’re in a time crunch,” he said. “Just take him.”

With a clipped nod, I strode out of the office. Bailey and Matteo were watching, looking as if they’d heard most of our conversation.

“Sorry, Bailey. I’ll have him back as soon as I can.”

“It’s fine,” Bailey said. “I can handle this.”

Matteo joined me on my trek back to the junkyard, the two dogs running up ahead of us. Banshee investigated every weed along the way, while Taz marked his territory everywhere he could. For a little guy, he had big dick energy.

“So, misplaced a part?” Matteo asked as we made our way there.

“Yeah. I have an idea of where they might be. I just didn’t want to waste my time searching if we’d sold them.”

He nodded. “Sure. Makes sense. So…how do you keep track of everything, anyway?”

I gave him the rundown of the inventory and sales system that Holden and I had devised. The old man used to run everything through the auto shop—without much in the way of records—but we’d upgraded to computerized logs.

When I punched in the code to unlock the gate, a round of barks greeted us. The whole pack celebrated like we were heroes returning from a great battle.

Sugar admonished me for sneaking off with a soft woof.

“Sorry, girl. You snooze, you lose,” I said as I patted her head.

Matteo lavished Oreo and Loki with loving, only laughing when Loki jumped up and made him stagger a couple of steps. “How do you get any work done with these guys around?” he asked with a grin.

“They’ll get bored and wander off.” I watched him tug Loki’s ears. “It helps if you don’t indulge them.”

Matteo dropped his hands. “Sorry. I love dogs, and my dad would never let me have one growing up. You’re lucky you have so much freedom out here.”

That was one way to see it. When I’d started working at the junkyard, it hadn’t been by choice.

The old man stuck me there because he didn’t like my smart-ass mouth.

His words, not mine. But they were fairly accurate.

When Gray left and the old man refused to say why, something inside me ripped open.

A wound that had barely scabbed over in the first place.

I’d lost the trust I’d built with my family. The old man had always been a little hard to love, but my brothers? They’d been everything to me. I’d come to rely on them, to trust in them. The Bro Code we wrote as kids had given me some much-needed reassurance.

Then Gray left, and the fantasy I’d weaved that my brothers would always be there for me had fallen apart. Had reminded me of all the other people who left me. Of all the people who could leave in the future.

I started spending more and more time at the junkyard, needing to prove I could handle being alone. Until one day, I was.

Except for my four-legged crew. They gave me all the love I could handle.

“Yeah, I guess I am lucky,” I told Matteo as I opened the junkyard map on my phone. I showed him the screen. “You check the northeast quadrant. That’s where the Ram truck should be. There’s going to be quite a few trucks over there, so make sure you find the right model.”

“Yeah, got it.”

“I’ll check the tire graveyard to the west.”

“Where old tires go to die?”

“And be reborn,” I joked.

He chuckled. “All right. I’ll text you if I find something.”

“Thanks.” I slapped his arm. “And be careful, unless you want to spend the rest of your day going to get a tetanus shot at the ER. There’s a lot of rusty metal out here.”

He cringed. “I’ll watch my step.”

We parted ways to search for the rims, and I was knee-deep in tires when Dalton texted.

Be there in ten.

Shit, had that much time gone by already? I groaned and straightened, scanning over the piles of tires left to search. Maybe I should cancel with Dalton?

He’d gone to bat for me with Banshee, though. The least I could do was see this plan of his through. If it prevented my dogs from being poached by their former owners, then it would be worth my time.

I’d just have to call Jack Milner and tell him I was mistaken. I started climbing toward the perimeter, placing my feet into the centers of tires as I went. It was like running the most bizarre obstacle course.

Banshee had long ago given up on me and wandered off. Without any pesky dogs nearby, Fireball, the most adventurous of the feral cats, flitted from tire to tire as if to show me how easy it could be.

My thighs and abs burned. I had nothing on Fireball’s athleticism.

The cat’s tail waved like a flag, helping him keep his balance as he leapt atop a tall stack of tires.

“Show-off,” I muttered as his amber eyes fixed on me, his stance one of sheer braggery.

I tripped, nearly falling on my face—Fireball would love that—and a glimmer of something shiny caught my eye.

Son of a bitch. There were the rims. I’d gone right by them when I first arrived. I regained my balance and clambered over two more sets of tires to get a closer look. Yep, this was definitely the right set.

I called Matteo. “Hey, I found them.”

“Okay. I was just getting ready to text that I was coming up empty.”

“You found the truck, though?”

“Yeah, I was just searching around to make sure the rims weren’t pulled and left nearby.”

“All right. I’m going to need your help. My car is up by the front gate. You’re closer. Can you go get it and drive it over here?”

“Okay, sure. That El Camino looks cool as hell.”

I wasn’t sure “cool” was the right word for the puke green car, but it was a classic that had grown on me with time.

I dragged the rims out into the path between piles of junk. The yard was divided into quadrants with space for a vehicle to pull through.

When Matteo arrived in my green El Camino, I tossed the rims in the back and then climbed into the passenger seat. “All right. Let’s head to the front. I’ve got an appointment, so I’ll need you to handle the sale to Jack Milner when he shows. Is that cool?”

Matteo looked surprised. “You sure you want me handling money?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He hunched his shoulders a bit. “You know I went to prison for robbery.”

“Mm. You planning to rob me or Jack Milner?”

“No?”

I raised an eyebrow at the question in his tone.

Matteo flushed. “No, never. Of course not.”

“Well, then, yeah, I’d like you to handle it. You just take Jack’s money, write him a receipt, and then give the cash and the receipt copy to Holden for his records. But if it makes you uncomfortable, you can walk Jack over to the shop, and Holden will handle all of it.”

“No, I… I can handle that.”

I nodded. “Good. Thanks, man.”

The buzzer sounded at the gate as we pulled to a stop near the front office. It was a tiny shed with nothing more than a cash box, a laptop, and a receipt book.

I hopped out of the car and opened the gate for Dalton.

When he strode in, my stomach rolled over.

It was one thing to see him in his ugly-ass uniform, but today, he wore blue jeans and a navy blue polo that fit him a little too well for my mind to stay out of the gutter.

The man could model Levi’s for a living. The denim hugged muscular thighs, a bulge that lived up to the hype—my mouth watered just remembering how thick and heavy his dick was on my tongue—and a tight peach of an ass.

Damn. It was too bad that our hookup hadn’t involved the removal of much clothing. I bet he was something to see.

Dalton’s gaze darted to Matteo, then back to me. “Hey, you ready to go?”

“Yep.” I turned to give Matteo a few last instructions on how to handle the sale, then joined Dalton in walking toward the gate.

Banshee came running, but Matteo intercepted her for me, crouching down to give her his undivided attention. She strained to look around him as we swung the gate shut.

Guilt stirred in my belly. “I was hoping we’d leave without her noticing.”

“She still rattled by the other day?”

“Well, not just that. She already had attachment issues after the first abandonment.”

“Shit, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, she’s happy to be back, though, so thanks for…” I trailed off, unsure how to put it into words.

“Of course. This is where she belongs.”

A Buick Regal was parked a few yards down from the gate. Dalton hadn’t brought the uniform or the sheriff’s cruiser.

“And here I was hoping I’d finally get to ride in the front seat of your patrol car.”

He chuckled. “And ruin my reputation as a deputy? I don’t think so.”

“Fair point.” I slid into the passenger seat, the smell of pine air freshener cloying in the small space, rivaled only by that old car leathery scent.

“Actually, I’m not on duty,” he said. “Just thought this was worth doing.”

“Wow, taking personal time to tour the animal shelter with me. I don’t know if I should be flattered you’re so invested in me or worried that you have no life.”

Dalton laughed, eyes bright, and his face more boyish than I’d ever seen it. “Yeah, that about sums up my existence. Thanks for that, Axel.”

I smirked, trying not to fidget at the distracting flutters in my gut. I really should have eaten something earlier. I was just hungry, right?

But damn it, Dalton looked way better than the ham-and-cheese I’d planned to eat for lunch.