Page 52 of Gang of Roses: Rebel

“That crazy dick-eating bitch,” he muttered more to himself than me.

“What?” I asked, confused.

Crow sighed heavily. “Your part just came in today.”

“What?”

“I literally just told my team to get started on it.”

I looked confused. “Then why the fuck would she tell me otherwise?”

Crow glanced toward the office again. The answer was written all over his face. And judging by the guilty expression on the receptionist’s face when she peeked around the corner and saw me standing there, I had a feeling this situation had a lot less to do with motorcycle parts and a lot more to do with them fucking.

“I don’t know, but I’ll talk to her.”

“Yeah, you need to, because I don’t play about my bike.”

Crow chuckled and held up both hands. “Alright, sir. I mean, ma’am.”

The mechanics immediately started laughing, and I rolled my eyes. That nigga always wanted to act like I was a man because I wore baggy clothes and stayed rocking Timbs. What could I say? They were my favorite boots. Comfortable, durable, and if somebody got stupid, they were perfect for putting a foot in somebody’s ass.

“Man, shut the fuck up.”

“What?” Crow grinned. “You walk in here dressed like a biker named Steve, barking orders at everybody. Can’t blame a man for getting confused.”

“Keep talking, and I’m taking my business somewhere else.”

“Nah, you ain’t doing that,” Crow shot back. “I’ve been working on your bikes for years. Besides, you’d miss me.”

I shook my head while trying not to laugh. “Your ego bigger than this damn shop.”

“And yet you’re still here,” Crow grinned.

Crow enjoyed pulling my leg and messing with me. He smirked, clearly amused with himself, while I just shook my head. That fool stayed getting on my nerves, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t secretly enjoy it.

The mechanic Fred chimed in. “Boss, leave Rebel alone.”

Crow cut his eyes toward him. “Ain’t nobody bothering Rain.”

“Yeah, aite,” Robert muttered.

The rest of them started laughing, and I frowned.

“The fuck is everybody laughing at?” I said, annoyed.

“Nothing,” Crow answered quickly.

“That’s what I thought,” I said with my arms crossed.

“Whatever, clown. When will my bike be ready?” I grunted.

“When it’s ready,” Crow said.

“That’s not an answer,” I huffed.

Crow normally had my motorcycle finished on time, but I still liked picking with him because I enjoyed getting under his skin. The way he’d sigh, grunt, and threaten to put me out of his shop never failed to make me laugh.

“It’s the only one you’re getting,” Crow said.