A smile curls my lips. I’m glad the prospect doesn’t talk. I’m happy alone with my thoughts as we make the quick journey home to the garden centre. I know that as soon as they see me, my family is going to want to know everything.
Chapter 8
Axle
Fuck, I hated that we’d had our reunion cut short because of a fucking delivery that wasn’t adding up.
I wait until Giggles has left with Angel before I walk to my bike and get on, starting her up. The tension eases from me almost instantly as the rumble of my bike flows through me, and the wind brushes my face as I ride to the club’s gate that opens as I ride up.
Stopping, I wait for the prospect on duty to come out of the guard hut to see what I need.
“Axle,” he nods at me. “Do you need me for something?” I like our two prospects. They’re solid men. Young … so fucking young. Around twenty-four. They’d arrived together and seemed solid.Foster brothers from the age of ten, they’d had each other’s backs for a long time. They’d make good brothers.
“Muppet, my woman will be back this evening sometime. Giggles is dropping her off now. Can you make sure whoever is on the gate knows?”
“No problem, Axle. It’s me or Giggles on the gate today. We’ll look out.”
“Thanks man,” I tilt my chin and strap my helmet on before pulling away from the clubhouse, taking the road to the garage. It’s chaos when I arrive. I sigh when I see Beard, Stout, and Carnage arguing, arms waving, papers scattered about.
My mechanics are watching with wide eyes, and I see money being exchanged. None of our mechanics are part of the MC. We’re stretched pretty thin with brothers as it is, and most of us have management positions so I’d decided to hire locally if I could, or from neighbouring towns.
“Fuck my life,” I mutter under my breath. “How the fuck did they have a problem with a delivery?”
Switching my bike off, I remove my helmet and dismount, whistling to get their attention. Walking up to them, I hold my hand out for the clipboard and run my eye down the list. I see the problem immediately. This isn’t our order. It’s got our name on it, but it’s not our parts.
“We tried, Axle,” Carnage mutters. “Fuck brother, you need help here. How you manage to make this look easy is fucking beyond me.”
Chuckling, I hold up the clipboard, “It’s the wrong order, this isn’t ours. I’ll call the supplier. I appreciate you all helping these last few days.”
“No problem, man,” Stout pats my shoulder. “Glad you finally found her.”
“We all are brother,” Beard agrees. “She seems like a real classy lady. Not sure what she sees in a meat head like you.” He smirks at me.
Laughing at their teasing, I shrug. “Fuck off, the lot of you. Let me sort this and check on my boys. I’ll see you all tonight.”
Walking away, I take my phone from my pocket to see a message from Giggles that Angel has been dropped off. With Angel sorted and back home, it was time to check on my mechanics before I called the supplier. Looking for North, my head mechanic, I catch his eye and point to my office. He nods and downs his tools, following behind me. I stop at the kitchen to make a coffee that I carry to the office with me.
Going to my desk, I shake my head when I see the mess on the top. Booting up my computer, I wait for North.
He stomps up the stairs and appears at my door. “All good out there, boss?”
“Yeah,” I wave my hand. “It’s not our order. I’ll sort it out.”
“Didn’t think it was ours,” he grins at me, taking a sip of coffee.
“And you didn’t say anything?”
“I would have if I’d known they’d go crying to you, but it was fun to watch the brothers try to figure out what was wrong,” North sniggers, amusement lighting his eyes.
Entertained, I shake my head at him.
He’s a good mechanic, one of the best. He should be. I trained him myself.
I found North sleeping rough behind the shop nearly thirteen years ago. He couldn’t have been more than nineteen. Skinny as hell, with shadowed, angry eyes and beaten to shit. He’d been so bloody angry at the world and wary of everything I offered.
Not that I could blame him. To this day, I didn’t know how he ended up there. That was his story, and I’d never pry.
I got him cleaned up and set up a cot in the back of the shop that we sometimes used when we were working on big projects and to a deadline. At the time, I thought little of it. To me it was mere decency, what any good person would do.
