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I’ve gotten myself acquainted with the system Fox installed on the computer for the guys to use for everything and cleaned the entire half of the building I’ll be spending most of my time with. I need something to do so my mind isn’t on Vault and what’s going on with him back at the clubhouse. It’s taken me hours as I make my way back to the front when I hear the bell above the door ring to let me know a customer has entered the shop. Plastering a smile on my face, I see an older gentleman standing in front of the counter with a scowl on his face. Just from one look I can tell he's a man that’s here to bitch about something. You learn the signs of those customers really quick and I’ve dealt with it all over the years.
“Welcome to Hound’s. How can I help you?” I greet the customer, moving the stool I was sitting on earlier to the side so I can face the man and have access to the computer at the same time.
“I was overcharged for the work done on my car,” he states, slamming the receipt and work order down on the counter in front of me. “I want a refund plus a percentage back for being overcharged to begin with.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I tell him, using my ‘customer service’ voice as Slim always calls it. “Let me take a look at your work order so I can figure out where you were overcharged.”
I take the paperwork from the counter and fold the receipt back so I can see what’s going on with this customer. He had an oil change done, his tires rotated and an alignment completed after Vault put on brand-new tires, there was also an issue with the timing belt. A note was entered that the customer was alerted about the timing belt and he agreed to the repair so he could get his car back running properly and wouldn’t break down on the side of the road or something. Looking at the cost of each part and the cost of labor, I don’t see an issue with the bill at all. If anything, Vault and Chrome are charging under what they should for labor.
“Sir, there’s nothing wrong with your bill. You were charged the correct amount for the work completed on your car. And, if you’re talking about the timing belt, you were talked to about that issue and agreed to the repair by the mechanic who did the work. Can you show me where the issue is?” I ask him, sliding the work order back over to him once again.
“The labor is the problem, little girl,” he states, anger filling me at being called a little girl.
“Sir, I’ve worked in a garage for years. I’ve handled billing, customers, and everything in between. You and I both know the labor cost isn’t the issue here. You’re trying to take advantage of a woman being in the office here now and a new garage in town. If we’re being completely honest here, you were given a deal. The labor being charged here at Hound’s is less than most other garages in the area. That’s a guarantee I can make right now. Even the garage I work in back home isn’t as low as this is,” I state, keeping my voice calm and collected when I want to yell at this prick. “Now, you have two options here. You can continue taking your vehicle to another garage and pay far more than you will here and be lied to on a regular basis. Or, you can shut the hell up, pay your bill like you should when you did need a vehicle serviced here, and know that the men working on your vehicle aren’t going to fuck you over and diagnose things as being wrong when that’s not the truth. The choice is yours to make because Hound’s will remain open and thrive with or without your business.”
For a minute, the man doesn’t say a word in response. He looks at me as if he can’t believe what I’ve just said to him when I feel a presence at my back. Turning my head, I find Valor at my back. He doesn’t say a word and lets me deal with the situation on my own as usual. Valor knows that I’ll chew him a new ass in front of everyone if he tries to step in on my behalf.
“I’m sorry, miss. You’re right. It’s just hard with the economy the way it is right now. I’ll keep coming back here. I hope you both have a good day,” the older gentleman says, hanging his head in shame as he turns and leaves the shop with the paperwork in hand.
“You have a nice day as well,” I call out, my voice losing every drop of anger as I feel sorry for the guy.
“You’re way too fuckin’ nice, Pretty Girl. I would’ve chewed him a new ass and sent him on his way,” Valor says, laying down two work orders that he’s completed.
Putting all the information in the computer to print out the work orders for the customer along with the bill, I set them aside to call and let them know their vehicles are ready to be picked up.
“How’s your brother? Have you talked to Doc yet?” I ask him, needing to know what’s going on with him.
“I just talked to Doc. Vault is gonna be okay. He’s got road rash on his leg and arm and his shoulder was dislocated. Doc got it put back in place and he’s in a sling for now. Vault refused any pain medicine as he’s done since he started drinkin’ and then stopped. He doesn’t want to ever feel that way again or lose control like that. Doc cleaned up the areas with the road rash and put antibiotic ointment on it before wrapping it in a bandage. As you know he’s gotta keep the area clean and dry. Doc’s gonna return in a few days to make sure there’s no infection even though he’s put him on antibiotics and has left the ointment behind for him to keep usin’. If it all looks good at that point, Vault can stop usin’ the bandages and just let it continue to heal. He’s really lucky but will be down for a while now,” Valor tells me, relief filling his body with the knowledge it wasn’t worse for Vault after sliding across the road with his bike on top of him.
“Good,” I whisper, relief filling me as the tension that’s overwhelmed me since I watched him go down fills me. “I’m gonna head out and grab some lunch for everyone. Any suggestions?”
“Nope. There’s a ton of places right on the same road as us. Please, don’t walk to any of them. None of us will care what you bring back. Be careful, Pretty Girl. Vault asked me to promise that I’d watch over you and make sure nothin’ happened while you were here,” Valor says, making my heart stall in my chest with the thought of Vault asking that of his brother. “We’ve got Vault’s bike here. I’m gonna go over it in the next day or two so I can figure out how this shit happened. I’m sure he’ll want to know as soon as possible so it doesn’t happen again.”
Leaving Hound’s, I make my way to my car and drive slowly down the road since there’s hardly any traffic. Seeing a place called Crazy Aunties BBQ, I pull over and head inside. The place is like a blast from the past with the décor and style of counter and tables filling the dining area. I immediately feel at home as I make my way to the counter and look at the board above the window to the kitchen. Everything sounds amazing and I order enough to feed myself and the guys at the garage for lunch. I will definitely be making a return trip just based on the waitress and the amazing smells filling the place.
After a long afternoon at the shop, the guys finally close and we head back to the clubhouse. Parking my car as close to the door as I can get, I don’t wait for Valor to head straight inside so I can put eyes on Vault and make sure he’s okay for myself. Despite the work and everything I did today, every single second my mind was filled with thoughts of him. It’s impossible not to think of him when it’s something I’ve done for so long now. To know he’s been here all day after an accident only makes things even worse.
I don’t have to go very far as I spot him on the couch in the common room. Vault’s sitting up, facing the door with a sling on his arm and his leg propped up on a pillow. No one’s in here with him and I wonder if he’s been alone all day long.
“Angel, you’re here,” he says, trying to sit up further on the couch while grimacing in pain.
“Don’t move, Vault. If you need help, one of us will help you. Have you been alone here all day?” I ask him, needing to know if these skanks are gonna get my foot up their asses or not.
“No. Martin has been in here with me. He just went out to the gate house so George can come inside. He’s helped me get to the bathroom and whatever else I’ve needed to do. Martin’s made sure I had lunch. And bottles of water. He got my medicine while I was sleepin’ and I take that again tonight. Right now, I have to call church when all the guys are outta work,” he informs me as if he wasn’t in a motorcycle accident a few hours ago.
“Do you really need to call church, Vault? I think you should be resting and not worried about club business. Does Slim or anyone back home know what happened?” I question him, needing to know if I have to get my dad down here to make him see reason.
“Doc assured me it was okay that I go to church. I can be here in the common room on the couch, in church, or in bed. That’s it. No ridin’ or work for me right now,” he informs me as if this Doc person really knows what they’re talking about. I don’t think they do.
“I think I need to call my dad. If church needs to be held, then your VP should be holding it. Not you,” I state, my voice filled with the worry I’ve had for him all day long.
“Angel, I promise I’m okay. Doc said he’s seen worse. I’ll let your dad know later on. He doesn’t need to know right now,” he says, reaching out with his good hand and latching onto mine.
For the first time in years, I’m holding Vault’s hand and he’s the one who made the first contact of our skin touching. Fear, pain, and hope all war within me because I don’t know why he’d touch me after so long. The longing wins out as I link our fingers together and sit on the table across from him. It’s awkward as fuck, but I’m not about to let go of his hand. I need this contact after the fear of losing him has filled me all day long.
“Vault, how ya feelin’?” Chrome asks, walking up to us with a beer in hand.
“Been better. How’s things at Hound’s?” he returns, proving he’s like every other damn man in my life.
