Until Ireland

by Tl Reeve

  My Triumph was gone. I parked my car as disbelief filled me. Someone broke into the back area of our house, opened the garage, and went right for my bike. There was at least a hundred grand in vehicles in there and all they took was my primer Triumph that was still a work in progress. My gut twisted. My body felt too heavy with fatigue. I’d say why me, but I wasn’t a whiny bitch like that, so instead I turned the despair into rage.

  “Motherfucker!” I yelled, getting out of my car. With a slam of the door, I stormed over to where Hunter stood on the phone with someone. “Are you serious right now? What the fuck?”

  He hung up with whoever he’d been talking to then handed me the phone. “I already called the police.”

  I snorted. “What exactly have they done?” Between the slashed tires, the smashed windows on my car, the side of my car getting keyed, and now this? “I swear to fuck, if this turns out to be one of yours or Landon’s groupies, I’m fucking done. I’ll buy your asses out of the business and kick you the fuck out of the house.”

  Hunter, God love the asshole, took my berating, waiting for me to exhaust myself before asking, “Are you done? Because it wasn’t us. We were here last night by ourselves with Jackson and Waverly, being responsible adults with teens in the house. Whoever got in here knew what the fuck they were doing. The stupid bitches we fuck leave murals over our fucking garage in red paint, not something like this.”

  He had a point. “Fuck!”

  “What about him?” Hunter didn’t have to say his name. Edgar. I couldn’t speak. A small whine passed my lips as fear raced down my spine. “Damn it, Ire.” He wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my back. “You should have said something.”

  Like what? ‘Hey, bros, it looks like he’s back again, but if you want proof, I can’t give it to you.’ Yeah, that wouldn’t fly. If anything, I could still be paranoid. “I’m not sure,” was the best answer I could give him.

  “Then we’ll wait and see. Cobi and Franks are on the way to check it out. I didn’t touch anything except for the switch in the house to open the garage.” Hunter sighed. “Coffee is on if you want some. Landon is getting ready to leave now, since the truck will be there in a couple of hours.”

  I didn’t want to sit there and drink coffee. I wanted to find the son of a bitch who stole my bike. However, I had raced out of Mack’s place in a hurry, so the caffeine did sound tempting. “Fine. It’ll give me a minute change into my jumpsuit.” I headed inside as Hunter’s phone rang again.

  Jackson sat at the table. His textbooks were laid out around as was his laptop. He sipped his coffee and glanced over his computer at me. The look of sorrow in his eyes pissed me off more. He was a sensitive kid. He knew how much we all treasured out little toys and trinkets. I was sure I’d be wearing his same expression if I were in his shoes.

  “Morning.” I kissed the top of his head on the way to the coffee maker. “Did you have fun with Waverly?”

  He nodded. “We did. Hunter and Landon made us watch stupid ass movies with them all night.” Jackson rolled his eyes. I didn’t blame him, but I could understand why the guys were being attentive when it came to Mack’s little sister.

  With my back to him, I grinned. “Sounds amazing for a date. Did they hold your hands too?”

  “Fuck off.” Jackson chuckled. “She came over because she finished her midterms and wanted to have a free night.”

  “Well, she picked the right place.” I fixed up my coffee, tan and sweet, because I needed the kick of sugar and cream, then I turned to him. “Are you happy with Waverly?”

  Jackson got this dopey look on his face, lovesick, was what our mom would’ve called it. I called it twitterpated.

  “Yeah, she’s pretty amazing. Did you know she wants to be a neonatal nurse?”

  I leaned against the counter as I sipped my coffee. “I didn’t. Sounds pretty intense and noble at the same time.”

  “She said one of her cousins was a preemie when she was born, and Waverly could only see her once or twice in the NICU before she came home. Anyway, Waverly said watching the group of nurses care for all those sick and small babies set her on the path to becoming one.” He shrugged. “I think it’s cool.” He took another swallow of his coffee.

  “It is.” I drank more of mine as well. “So, how are things at Flame?”

  “It’s amazing. Chef has taught me a lot of stuff they haven’t in school. He wants to add more hours but doesn’t want to interfere with my education. Mack’s also a good boss. I’m making more for him in a weekend than I did anywhere else.”

  “Good.” I’d have to thank Mack later, if he didn’t chew my head off for running out of the house like I did.

  “Sorry about your bike, Ire.” Jackson frowned. “I wish I would’ve heard something—anything, so we could’ve stopped the thief.”

  I waved him off. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.” I finished off my cup then made a second, leaving it on the counter. “I’ll be right back. I need to change into my jumpsuit so I can vamoose after Cobi and Franks take my statement.”

  Jackson nodded. “Sure. I’ll protect your coffee from Landon.”

  “Thanks.” I hurried to my room. The space seemed so foreign to me now. I spent more time with Mack, either at the ranch or at his apartment, that this place was beginning to not feel like home anymore. I didn’t know how to process that realization, so I pushed it aside for now. Maybe later, when the madness calmed down, I’d think things over. When I was somewhat presentable, I headed back downstairs. I caught the tail end of a conversation as I came back into the kitchen, only to find Cobi and Franks standing there.

  Both men wore grim expressions. Outside, a team of forensic people were dusting the handles on the garage doors for prints while also taking pictures. They work fast. I grabbed my cup off the counter then went to join them. Between Jackson, Landon, Hunter, and both detectives, the testosterone in the area was a little hard to swallow at the moment.

  “We noticed your neighbors have cameras,” Cobi said. “I was telling Hunter before you joined us, I’m going to ask if they have footage from last night. Hopefully, they caught something and it’ll make our jobs easier.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.” I stared at the hole where my bike should be sitting. Grief. Loss. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what I was feeling besides anger. The Triumph was the first vintage item I bought before our parents died. My father and I spent hours fiddling with the engine until she ran perfectly. It was also the last project we did together. That was a quirk with our parents. They were traditional in a way. Our mom taught us how to cook and mend and create stuff with our hands while our father taught us about cars. Landon’s truck was their project together. The fact Jackson never got to experience the same with our father hurt.

  We’d all pitched in though to buy him the beat-up Comet. All three of us rebuilt it with him. The painstaking task not only helped him grieve, but it also helped us heal as a family too. So, standing there and watching forensic people go through our shit felt like a violation of our collective souls.

  “Can you tell us where you were last night?” Cobi prodded while Franks went to talk with the other officers on scene.

  Even that question seemed like victim blaming to me. “With Mack. I haven’t been here in a couple of days.”

  “So, it could have been gone longer than just today?” he hedged.

  I met Cobi at the birthday party for Waverly. The man didn’t hesitate or beat around the bush. Right now, he was poking at me for answers to fill in his blanks, and I was the one giving him non-starters. “No. Hunter would have called me before then. Or I would have noticed it missing. I’m usually the first one out the door in the morning. The shop is our baby, and I like the reputation we’ve earned.”

  “Does anyone have a key for your bike?” Cobi wrote down my answers as I gave them.

  “No. I have it on my key ring.” I motioned for him to follow me over to my car. I’d been so caught up in everything that my dumba
ss left the keys in the ignition. “It’s this one. It goes into the engine block on the right side. It’s also a kick start.”

  He nodded. “Do you have an estimated value of the bike?”

  I snorted. “There are always two values, Cobi, you know this. Sentimental and Blue Book.”

  “True. But we can only go by one for this investigation,” he reminded me.

  “Sure enough. The last time I checked, my bike’s worth was in the neighborhood of fifty grand.”

  Cobi whistled. “Serious?”

  “Yeah,” I answered. “No aftermarket parts for me. I went to classic shops to find what I needed, and with the help of my father, I rebuilt the bike from the ground up.” I shrugged. “So, sentimental value, priceless.”

  He pointed to the Comet then the pickup and Hunter’s Harley. “What makes your bike more important than those vehicles?”

  I didn’t know. “Your guess is as good as mine. But—” This was going to cost me to admit out loud what’d been happening. “It’s not the first incident.”

  “Are there reports on file?” Cobi narrowed his eyes as he flipped the page on his notepad.

  “Yes, to all of them. Slashed tires, the keying, broken windows, and now this. I thought they were jealous women who believed Hunter and Landon’s cocks made the world go round.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “Guess a jilted lover wouldn’t steal a bike, huh?” Again, I pushed aside the niggle at the back of my mind that told me I knew who took my bike. It was the same voice who told me on numerous occasions I was stupid to believe everything happening to me was all coincidence. There was only one person who would steal my Triumph.

  “You also had vandalization at your shop too, correct? Some woman spray-painted the roll up doors?”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  He grinned. “I’m going to be honest, on the surface it sure does sound like a jilted lover, but I wonder if it’s for you, not your brothers.”

  My heart seized in my chest, fisted by the knowledge of what Cobi just said. Of course I’d been found. Not many Banks lived in this part of the state. Plus, our rep was preceding us. It was only a matter of time before Edgar came sniffing around. In the beginning of our relationship, he hadn’t been an abusive asshole, but after I found out about him fencing vehicles and running a chop shop right under my nose, there was no way I could stay. I should have gone to the police right then and there, however, I ran with my brothers. In escaping, I’d become a liability to his business.

  “Ireland? Are you okay?” Cobi touched my forearm, drawing my attention back to him.

  “Sorry, yeah,” I shook my head. “I’m good. And, no, I don’t think it’s me.” I lied again. I hated doing so, but I couldn’t handle rehashing shit at the moment. I needed to get to work and forget about everything.

  “Did you tell Mack before you left his place?” he pressed.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Cobi, I—”

  “I’m not saying it to be a dick, Ireland, but you’re going to want to have him by your side if anything should happen.” He was right. The pit in my stomach grew. I should’ve stayed with Mack.

  “You’re right. I’ll call Mack,” I said, deflating in front of him.

  Cobi squeezed my shoulder. “Well, we’ll look into everything with these other women, along with your brothers, and see if we can knock a few pieces loose to help figure out where your bike is.” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to me. “This is my personal number and the office number. Call me if you can think of anything else.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “You know, I really enjoyed meeting Hadley at the birthday party. Your wife is pretty cool.”

  Cobi grinned. “She liked you too. Couldn’t stop talking about you. You’ve impressed our wives, Ireland. If you need friends right now, those ladies are it. We’re family after all.”

  Family. I liked that idea. My brothers were great, but having women I could talk to when my brothers were more about busting heads than allowing me to vent was invaluable. Plus, since my mom died, I missed having another woman around. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer, but as you can see, I need to get to said shop because I have a vehicle to get my hands on.”

  “Mack’s Aston Martin.” Cobi chuckled. “I think the guy’s balls are blue at the thought of you getting under her hood.”

  “Well, I can’t say all this hasn’t dampened my excitement a little, but come on, a Bond car is at my garage and I get to tinker with it?” My heart was heavy about the loss of my bike, but I also didn’t want to dim the happiness of getting to work on a one-in-a-million vehicle.

  “Take pictures and send them to Mack throughout the day. The man will be salivating before he gets a chance to see you again.” Cobi closed his notepad and shoved it into his pocket. “Hunter said he’d stick around and lock up when we were done with a thorough sweep of your property.”

  I inclined my chin. “Thanks. I appreciate this. I hate we had to meet again under these circumstances.”

  “We’ll meet under better ones soon. After all, Mack is part of the MC, and well, we’re all friends.”

  Part of the Broken Eagles?

  Shock filled me. Color me surprised for a second time today. Well then... Learn something new every day. Which also meant double the trouble if they found out about the auction house. I was in deep. Maybe too deep. Anxious energy filled me. If Mack found out the truth, would he hold me responsible for what happened to his friends? Stop it. Mack isn’t like that. Perhaps. I wouldn’t know for sure until I had answers.

  After grabbing a travel mug of coffee, I got back in my Coupe and headed to the garage. I still had an hour to kill before the parts would arrive, so I figured I’d get the Aston Martin ready to go. The more I poured myself into work, the less I’d wallow after losing my bike. When I pulled up to the shop, I did a cursory look around the building to be sure no one had hit the shop too then went inside.

  Everything was how we left it the day before. Nothing was out of place. I turned on the stereo and blasted some Avril Lavigne then rolled up the doors, announcing to everyone we were open for business. By the time I got to the Aston Martin, I was beginning to feel marginally better. I sent a quick text to Mack to let him know all was okay and I would explain later, then I took a picture of myself under the hood of his car.

  The growled audio text I received in return lit a fire in my belly and a giggle of excitement filled my chest. Because the NTSB had different regulations for us and for foreign vehicles, all imported cars/trucks/off-road vehicles/motorcycles had to be reconfigured to pass US emissions tests. When I did my initial sweep of the car, I noticed that those safety standards and changes hadn’t been met or reconfigured. It led me to believe the person who sold it probably did so as soon as it was off the ship. They were easy fixes, of course. I wasn’t worried about it. They were more time consuming than anything else.

  So, while I waited, I did what Cobi said. I took apart Mack’s car and sent him racy photos of me working hard under the hood. No reason for him to have to worry about what was going on in my life at the moment.

  At eleven, an hour earlier than we thought the truck would arrive, it pulled into the parking lot. The driver backed up to the middle bay then got out. With everything we were going to need, we’d take up the entire open bay space. The driver raised the door on the back end before lowering the hydraulic lift. When he used the pallet jack to roll out three pallets of parts, I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. It was all covered in shrink wrap and in individual boxes, except for the transmission, which was in a crate on a pallet by itself.

  “Thank you so much for this,” I said, signing off on the bill.

  “Not a problem. It’s the first time I’ve ever brought a shop Aston Martin parts.” He grinned. “That’s like the rare card in a pack of commons.”

  I understood the reference. “I get it.”

  “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know who owns that purple Mercury, would you?”

 
“Why do you ask?” I said, curious about his question.

  “It’s a beautiful car. I wouldn’t mind having her for myself,” he replied. “Not very many of those around anymore.”

  “She’s mine. I rebuilt her from the frame up. She’s also not for sale.”

  At that moment, Landon pulled up in his pickup. He waved a sack of food out his driver side door as he parked. I hadn’t realized I was hungry until I saw the brown paper bag.

  The man whistled. “I could get in trouble working here. I’d spend more time staring at the antiques instead of fixing them.”

  I laughed, handing him back the clipboard. “They’re things of beauty. I can’t hold your admiration against you.”

  “Damn right they are,” he stated. “Have fun on your project.” He exited the shop as Landon stepped inside.

  “Hey,” Landon called out, placing my food on my desk. “Hunter said he’ll be here in about an hour. These the parts?”

  I nodded as I went to the sink to clean up. “Yep. I’m almost done taking everything out that needs to be changed. By the time Hunter gets here, we should be ready to rock and roll.”

  “Sweet.” My brother grinned. “Want to eat together, then you can tell me about your wild weekend with Mack?” He wiggled his brows, and I snickered.

  “Sure. Then you can tell me about your latest conquest I’ll never be meeting.” I dried my hands before strolling to my desk.

  Landon rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know I’m a changed man. I’m waiting for the right girl.”

  That would last two weeks. Tops. “What brought this change about?” I glanced at him as I pulled my lunch from the bag.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess seeing you with Mack and now Jackson with Waverly, I wanted what both of you have. I can’t keep settling on getting laid. I have to grow up, right?”

  “I guess.” I took a bite of my burger and groaned. “You think it’s love though?”