Pieces Of Us: Missing Pieces Series, Book Three

by Walker, N. R.

  Doctor Chang studied Juss for a moment and mouthed, “I think he’s asleep.” Smiling, she pointed to the door. “See you next week.”

  I didn’t dare move, even long after she’d gone because, yeah, Juss had fallen asleep against me. He was kind of side-on but his neck was well supported, so I left him right where he was. He woke up when the nurse brought his discharge papers, and he didn’t even argue about the wheelchair he had to use to leave. That’s how exhausted he was.

  He slept on the way home and barely stirred when I woke him up to get him out of the ute. I helped him up the stairs and he walked himself straight back to bed. He was out like a light, so I put everything he might need on his bedside table and went downstairs.

  Of course, Davo and Sparra had stopped what they were doing. “How is he?” Davo asked.

  “He’s okay. Tired as hell, probably will be for a while. I doubt he’ll be down here working this week, but we’ll see.”

  “Fair enough,” Sparra said.

  I ran my hands through my hair and sighed. “You two got a second? I wanna run something past ya’s before I start making phone calls.”

  Davo nodded. “I could always have a coffee.”

  With three fresh brews, we sat at the breakroom table and they waited for me to start talking. “It’s been a shit few months, and I know my time has been split between here and everything else. That’s not fair on you guys, and I just want you to know that I really do appreciate it.” They were both about to argue or say something to downplay my thanks. I put my hand up. “I mean it. And anyway, I’ve been thinking of something I could do to make things run easier and smoother for you two. And for the business, but mostly for you two. I think yesterday proved to me that I can’t always be here. Juss’ health has to be a priority. I mean, this place and you guys are a priority too. So I can’t do all this on my own. I can’t manage this and you guys and Juss and emergencies and whatnot. So I was thinking I needed help.”

  “What kind of help, Dallas?” Davo asked.

  “I don’t want to hire another mechanic. I love our little team and I don’t want to replace Justin because his station will be his until he’s ready to come back to it. And I don’t want to spend every minute of every day in the office because that’s not what I love doing. I wanna be working on bikes. It’s what we do, right?”

  Sparra nodded. “Yep.”

  “So I was thinking I might hire an office manager. Someone to take care of the phones, the bookings, the orders, the . . . everything that I’ve been slacking on, basically. Everything that Davo’s pretty much been doing in my absence. So,” I said, looking right at him. “Davo, first choice is yours. If you want to be the office manager here, the job’s yours.”

  He shot me a stunned look. “Like, in your office and not out there working on bikes and stuff?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  He made a face. “Um, well, thanks for the offer, and I don’t mind helping out when you need it, but Dallas, I wanna be working on bikes too. It’s what we do, right?”

  Sparra put his hands up in surrender. “Jesus, don’t look at me next. I don’t want it.”

  I sighed with relief. “Oh, thank fuck,” I said with a laugh. “I mean, I had to offer it to ya, but damn, I’d be well and truly screwed trying to replace either of you guys on the floor.”

  Davo smiled. “So you’re gonna put someone on the phones? Can’t say I’m sad about that.”

  “Yeah, I know. Me either. I should’ve done it years ago. When I first started, I just did it all. Then you guys came along and helped out on the floor so I could do more stuff in the office, and that was great, but it was never my strong point. It’s just not me. I love my business, and I certainly don’t want to lose it, so I should start running it like . . . well, a business.”

  I sipped my coffee, ignoring the lack of sleep from last night. “That’ll let you guys do your jobs with no interruptions, and it will let me do mine. I can be on the floor when I need to be, or I can go to doctor appointments without worrying that you guys are left with everything. And all things going well, it means we can book in more jobs because we’re not stopping every five minutes to answer phones and take bookings or chase parts or orders.”

  “Sounds good,” Davo said. “But Dallas, you know we don’t mind, right?”

  “I know, but I do. I put too much on you both. Oh,” I added. “I’ve got the rep for those hoists coming by next week.”

  Sparra clapped his hands together and grinned. “We gonna be fancy!”

  I laughed and let out a long breath. “Well, enough of the bullshit. I’m gonna go call an employment place and get the ball rolling then I can help both of you on the bikes.”

  “Hey, beautiful,” I said, kissing Juss’ forehead. He was on the couch when I finally called it a day and went upstairs. He was dozy and had slept on and off all day, but he smiled.

  “Hey.”

  I slumped onto the couch beside him and put my head on his lap. I looked up at him. “I was thinking omelettes for dinner.”

  His fingers found my hair and he was still smiling at me. “Sounds good.”

  Well, I wasn’t sure about good. But they were quick and easy and required minimal effort to eat with no loud crunching or heavy chewing for Juss.

  “But I could just lie here for a bit first,” I said. “And you could keep running your fingers through my hair.”

  He chuckled. “I could.” He put one hand to work on my hair but his other hand sat on my chest, and I took that hand in mine, holding it tight. There was some surfing championship on the TV, the volume and brightness were low, but it was relaxing to watch. “This is nice,” he whispered.

  “Being here with you like this is the best.”

  He hummed and played with my hair for a bit. “How was work?” His question was slow, so he was still tired, but he wasn’t nodding off.

  “Yeah, we got it all done,” I said. “I’m gonna hire someone for the office, Juss. Someone to answer the phones and organise the booking sheets and do some paperwork and ordering for me. That way I can get more work done in the shop.”

  His hand stilled in my hair. “Is that because of me?”

  “Not at all, baby. It’s long overdue, and having to stop halfway through a job to take a phone call is a pain for everyone. I want you and me and Davo and Sparra to be able to get our work done. Especially if you and I are away, then poor Davo is trying to do too much.”

  Juss nodded and took some time to think about all that. “Sorry I can’t do more.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Juss. It is what it is. You need to rest first, then you can worry about that. You’ll be back to work soon enough. Oh,” I said, remembering just now. “I’ve got a guy coming next week to see which hoist systems we want. That’s kinda exciting, and also long overdue. I should have done that years ago. And we’ll get those roller chairs that go with them, and Sparra already wants to race you on your scooter. From one end of the shop to the other.”

  Juss eventually smiled. “I’ll beat him.”

  I snorted as I got up. “You will.” I kissed the side of his head on my way to the kitchen, and ten minutes later, we were eating ham, cheese, and capsicum omelettes. And ten minutes after dinner, Juss was ready for bed again.

  Even though it was kind of early, I really hadn’t slept much the night before, so I got ready for bed with him. We settled in under the covers and Juss automatically found his spot, snuggled into me. “My wing tattoo pillow,” he mumbled.

  I wrapped him up tight, his familiar body, his familiar warmth was like a balm. “God, I missed you last night. Squish missed you too.”

  “Don’t ever want to go back to hospital,” he murmured.

  “I know, baby.”

  “Was so scared.”

  “Me too.”

  “Don’t want to be like that again.” Maybe it was easier for him to admit these things in the dark.

  I rubbed his back. “I promise I’ll protect you, baby. I won’t let
it get to that ever again.”

  He nodded against my chest and sighed as he relaxed into a deep sleep. I revelled in the fact he was in my arms again, safe and well, where I wanted to keep him forever.

  Chapter Ten

  Juss didn’t come downstairs the next two days. He was still wiped, but mostly happy, and spent his time dozing on the couch or in bed. On day three, he came down for a little while in the morning to see the boys. He tidied up a few things here and there, but it was mostly just to be social, to have a laugh, and to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. He made dinner that night and did some laundry, so he was definitely feeling better.

  He was still clingy, though, not that I minded that part. But as soon as he saw me, he needed touch: a hug, a kiss, cuddling on the couch. He’d admitted that his setback had scared him, and I believed him.

  He didn’t complain about being bored, about being cooped up inside, about not being able to work. I think what scared him most was how close he’d come to going that one step too far, one step from not being able to return.

  He was truly listening to his body, not pushing to get back to his new normal, but rather letting his mind and body tell him when he was ready.

  On Friday, Juss stayed downstairs with us for a little bit longer, though it was probably just out of curiosity. I was expecting three people to come in for an interview before lunch. The employment agency had done the hard work and narrowed down a prospective employee, but I would get to meet and decide who I thought would be the best fit.

  The first girl was young and probably had potential but couldn’t even get through the interview without checking her phone. The second was a guy who Davo and I had caught checking out Justin, and when he realised he’d been caught, he just grinned and mumbled something about a snack.

  He was obviously a hard fucking no.

  I went through with the interview with him, though I’d already made up my mind. It didn’t help the fact that Davo stood where I could see him through the doorway of my office, laughing his damn head off.

  When he’d gone, Davo, still grinning, said, “Your face. The whole interview. Oh my God, so funny.”

  “What was funny?” Juss asked.

  “That guy thought you were a snack,” Davo said, laughing again. “Thought Dallas was gonna kill him.”

  Justin looked confused and horrified. “A snack?”

  “Something to eat,” Sparra explained. “It’s a new thing the kids say these days.”

  It took him a second, but he nodded. “Oh.”

  I grumbled. “He didn’t even try to hide it.” I pointed to my chest. “Justin’s my snack. And anyway, he didn’t know jack shit about bikes or nothing—”

  I stopped talking because Davo was laughing so hard he was gonna bust something. He grabbed his side. “Ow, fuck. A stitch.”

  Served him right.

  Juss was smiling at me. “I’m your snack, am I?”

  I was pouting, and I didn’t care. “Yes.”

  That, of course, set Davo off laughing again, though he still had to hold his side. Didn’t stop him. “Oh God, jealous Dallas is my favourite.”

  Fucker.

  Justin came into my office, around to my chair, and leaned his arse against my desk. It was good to see him smile. “Jealous Dallas is my favourite too.”

  I looked up at him and couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at myself. “Sorry. You’re not my snack. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He met my gaze. “Yes I am.”

  I laughed and pulled out my wallet, giving Juss my credit card. “Speaking of snacks. Can you please put in a lunch order from the takeaway shop down the road and have it delivered? Get the fellas what they want.” I looked out the door. “Dunno why I’m feeding Davo.”

  Davo just laughed from around the corner. “I take it back. Lunch-buying Dallas is my favourite.”

  Juss took the card and leaned down and gave me a smiley kiss. He limped out of my office and went and sat in the breakroom, and I heard him and Sparra discussing lunch. I thought Sparra might do the ordering over the phone, but no, Juss did it. He was tired and I knew, after lunch, he’d be sleeping for a while.

  Davo appeared at my door, trying to look serious. “Someone here to see you, boss.”

  It was my next, and final, interview, and I was beginning to lose hope. But in walked a woman with short black hair, maybe in her 40s, and she had an easy smile. She held out her hand for me to shake and nodded to where Juss’ bike stood in the corner. “Nice. Is that a 2016 or ’17?”

  She knew bikes.

  “Ah, 2016. You like KTMs?”

  “My two sons ride,” she said. “And my husband, but mostly the boys. Spent a lot of weekends at racetracks when they were growing up.”

  I grinned at her. “Come into my office,” I said, but I already knew.

  Her name was Toni and she was a straight-shooter, no-nonsense woman who knew her way around accounting programs and stocktakes like she knew which KTM she was looking at by just a glance.

  I liked her, and she was a perfect fit for us.

  She had no problem dealing with four guys. She lived with three: her husband and two grown sons. She knew how to catalogue and order parts. She’d worked the last six years at an auto-supply shop but left when the business sold. She had no problem whatsoever with the fact that two out of the four guys working here were gay and that we were actually a couple. She just wouldn’t pick sides if we had a fight, because her usual advice that the guy was always wrong wouldn’t do us much good.

  I had to make it official with the employment agency, but I was certain we’d found our newest team member.

  And if I’d felt any apprehension at all, it was gone. Now I just felt . . . relieved.

  Toni left and lunch arrived, and the mood around the lunch table was relaxed and happy. Though Juss was smiling as he ate, he could barely keep his eyes open. “I think I’m done,” he said slowly, pushing his half-eaten burger away. “It’s nap o’clock for me.”

  I helped him up the stairs, and again, he went to bed and not to the sofa. He was so tired, and with some warm food in his belly, he fell straight to sleep.

  I put his boots by the bed, and when I slid his phone onto the bedside table, it vibrated so I naturally looked at the screen.

  He’d had five missed calls and three missed messages.

  I didn’t know the number or look who the messages were from or what they said. I didn’t want to intrude on his privacy like that. If he’d missed a medical call, they’d call me, so it wasn’t urgent. And if Becca couldn’t get through to him, she’d call me as well.

  The only person I could think of, and the reason he hadn’t answered the calls or taken the messages, would be his mother.

  So help me God, if that woman . . .

  Then I remembered that my temper had contributed to Juss’ stress overload so I took a deep breath and counted to ten. I had to get a handle on that shit from now on.

  I left Squish in charge of sleeping supervision and went back downstairs. We had to hook in and get our jobs finished, but the last customer left at knock-off time and we finished the week on a good note. I helped the customer load the bike onto his trailer while Davo and Sparra finished up in the shop. When I came back in, Juss was there helping them.

  He looked like he’d just woken up, which meant he must have slept for about four hours. “Hey,” I said.

  He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and smiled. “Hey. Just wanted to see the fellas before they left. Let ’em know I’ll be back to work on Monday.”

  “You feel up to that?” I asked.

  He gave a nod. “If I take it easy this weekend, yeah. Just small stuff, though. And if it’s too much, I’ll just tap out.”

  I grinned at him. “Sounds great. And you’ll be fine. I know it.” He had always been determined, but he also seemed to have a newfound respect for his limitations.

  “It helps that the boss loves me and we live right upstairs,�
� he added.

  “Yes, he does.”

  “Hey, Jusso,” Davo called out as he wheeled the toolbox into the storage room. “Gimme a hand with this.”

  So while they busied themselves with packing up, I went to finalise a bit more paperwork. I was filling in the weekly EPA report when Davo and Sparra called it a day, and Juss came into my office. He parked himself in his usual spot—his arse against my desk. “Just gotta get this motor oil disposal written up, then I’m all done.”

  “That’s okay, take your time, I’ll just wait right here.” He was quiet for a bit while I entered in some numbers. “Will you miss this? The paperwork? The office?”

  I snorted. “God, no.”

  “This office could use a pot plant,” he said randomly.

  “Uh, I guess it could.” I looked around the office. It was functional but drab. It was also dusty as hell. “I might give myself one job this weekend, and that’s to clean the shit out of here before Toni starts.”

  “Yeah, it could do with some organising. Some trays and maybe some new pens and stuff. I don’t know what office people like.”

  I chuckled, because this was proof that Juss was feeling much better. He was having proper connective thoughts instead of the zombie he had been since his stay in hospital earlier this week.

  “Oh, what’s this?” he said, reaching for a pile of mail that still sat in my in-tray. Something else I was going to attack this weekend. “This one’s for me.” He flipped through the envelopes. “And one for you.”

  Oh, shit. “They came the other day. I was going to bring them upstairs, sorry. I got busy. Um, I think they might be those test results we were waiting on.”

  His gaze shot to mine. “The blood tests?”

  “Yep. I forgot about them, to be honest. We got a little sidetracked, didn’t we?”

  He hummed and studied the envelope, turning it over in his hand. Then he held it out to me. “Can you read it for me? I don’t think I could handle bad news right now. If something’s wrong, just say, ‘Oh goodie, more dick swabbing,’ and I’ll understand.”