Page 25 of Property of Mongrel

“Fucking worth it, and hopefully, now that the cops have Donnelly in custody, his little foray into trafficking is done and dusted. I don’t think Nerd has found any other locations and since we already got the other two assholes, he didn’t really have a crew any longer,” I say. “Not only that, Doc, but she didn’t hit my bike, it was one of those assholes of Donnelly’s, and even on Saturday, it wasn’t her yelling for me to help. So, as far as I’m concerned, she’s completely blameless in both situations.”

“This is setting your healing back,” he replies.

“Still worth it, Doc,” I state. “We may dabble in the gray areas of life from time to time, but nobody fucks with the Kings. While I wish we could’ve handled Donnelly ourselves, since he already had a warrant out for him, I suspect he’s going away for a long time.”

“Will you talk to her? She’s really upset that you got hurt, especially when she was trying to keep you from guarding her until I got there,” he asks.

“Where’s she at?” I question.

“In her room figuring out what to make for the next farmer’s market based on her sales from the weekend,” he says.

“I think she should double her inventory,” I tell him. “So, while I may have to wait to return to physical therapy for a few weeks, I’ll give her a hand. I can’t do all the fancy drizzling shit she does with the strawberries, but I can get them dipped at least. Same with the cake pops.”

“How long did Dr. Albertson say you had to wait before you went back?” he asks.

“At least two weeks. I’ve already scheduled my next session for the day after I go back to him for a recheck. In the meantime, I’m going to do the ‘easy’ exercises they gave me,” I reply.

“Go talk to my woman,” he instructs.

“On it, Doc. How she’s reacting kind of reminds me of some of the shit I went through while in foster care. But she’s a strong woman and has you as well as the club behind her.”

“Yeah, she is. I’m shocked that she hasn’t had any nightmares,” he confesses. “But when I asked her, she said there was no reason for her to stress and not sleep because the Kings, especially you, always had her back.”

“Well, hopefully after I talk to her, any guilt she feels will go away. At least I’ll have time to get caught up on the books and shit,” I tease. “I’ll be a fat and happy brother with current ledgers and plenty of sweets to soothe my soul.”

Standing. I head back to the room Gretchen uses for her business, leaving a chuckling Doc behind.

Walking into her craft room, I see her sitting in her chair, a notebook in front of her and a pen in her hands. “Whatcha doing?” I ask as I grab another chair and sit down next to her.

“Trying to figure out how much inventory to get ready for next weekend’s farmer’s market,” she says. “Mongrel, I wanna say I’m —”

I cut her off before she can finish. “Gretchen, like I just told Doc, you weren’t driving the vehicle that hit me and you didn’t stand in the middle of the farmer’s market and yell out for someone to abduct you! The fault and blame falls squarely on Donnelly and his crew, plain and simple.”

“But you got hurt again,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes.

Most of the time, when people get emotional around me, I’ll disassociate a little bit, but none of the ol’ ladies are running around crying at the drop of a hat. So, at least for them, tears are my kryptonite and I’ll do whatever it takes to make them stop crying. I was like that with my sisters, too. Granted, they were toddlers the last time I saw them, but both me and Jonah would bend over backwards to get them to stop.

“And?” I retort. “Gretchen, it could’ve just been a regular old civilian that hit me that day, instead of some assholes who were trying to get you back. And like I told Doc, since you sold out of your inventory so quickly, and Donnelly was still out there, I was not leaving you to your own devices. I didn’t damage what Dr. Albertson repaired, the shoulder and arm are merely strained. It’ll heal, honey, I promise. In the meantime, let’s see if we can figure this out. Personally, I think you should double what you made to sell. Maybe add six dozen extra of the dipped strawberries, too. I can dip shit for you, and you can decorate. Also, what do you think of doing some of the strawberries in a milk chocolate flavor? And maybe do the white chocolate ones in different colors? You could theme color them.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“So, if it’s close to Halloween as an example, you could dip the strawberries in orange and turn them into pumpkins. At Christmas, maybe do green and red and add some of that flavored silver or gold?”

“Oh, I love those ideas! I think you’re right about doubling the order, but we won’t be able to do the strawberries until the Friday before.”

“Again, I can dip and you can drizzle and decorate,” I reply. “Call your guy where you get the strawberries and let’s get two bushels.”

“What if that’s too many?” she questions.

“The brothers will eat whatever’s left. Now, let’s talk about the flavors for the cake pops,” I say.

By the time we’re done, she’s no longer upset and we’re gathering the supplies needed to start baking. She’s going to freeze the pops until Wednesday and we’ll have a dipping and decorating party, then on Friday, we’ll do the strawberries.

“Thank you for helping me, Mongrel. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. I’m gonna go to my office and see what paperwork is waiting for me to get caught up on. Unless you want me to help you bake.”

“Nah, Connie and Maria will give me a hand if I need one. But if I do need you, I know where to find you.”