Biker's Claim The Broken Angel is Mine (Cora and Jake) novel Chapter 142

Chapter 142

Clain

Chapter 142

Cora POV

The wages didn’t take as long as I had expected. For the first pay period, the staff who keep my house running did well. We are strangers, but they got along okay with me so far. Clara gave a detailed report. Most are on salary, but if they are not doing their jobs correctly, I can adjust their compensation. Still, as Clara had mentioned in one of our brief conversations that the staff are working well and getting along together, some even helping others with their tasks, it was good to hear that the staff do not have big issues that can’t be ironed out quickly.

The business wages, this was the last time I would do it. Demetri had agreed that my holding onto Mother’s dream was not my dream and was becoming a burden. Selling was a good option; the papers had been signed, and the takeover was beginning. Another load off my mind; I had too many things going on, and it was time to let some go. It was a relief when I pushed ‘send’, and it disappeared, heading to the bank, for the last time. I would have the payment summaries to complete, which won’t take long, and then this chapter of my life would be over. The money for the sale will come at the end of the week; I had already received a large deposit. My lawyer and accountant were liaising with the new owner, and I was a phone call or sss away if they needed any help, although I doubt they need me.

Several emails regarding the park suggestions had to be answered, and I felt like I had opened another can of worms if I didn’t have enough going on in my life, but I sat and answered each one carefully. I am not a draftsman, so I wanted to remind the writer that I was a concerned citizen who sent in a complaint and a suggestion for change. Other than one picky writer, most of the emails were positive, but it’s weird how a person tends to remember the one negative over hundreds of positives. If you’re not careful, you will let that one negative take over your mind.

Just as I sent the difficult sss, there was a knock on the door, and the head of Gunner poked in. Dad and Gunner were the only two who had access to this room; none of the staff had access.

Yeah, I still have trust issues.

But not with Gunner and Dad.

It was time, and I believed I had to start trusting again, put my past behind me, like I kept telling myself, or I would become a mess. I told myself Dad wasn’t my uncle, and when I told Gunner I loved him, I knew that I had started to trust him; so far, he had given me no reason not to. He still gave me that protective vibe, and I liked it from him; he didn’t make it feel like I had to submit and be dominated, that I still had choices and that made accepting him so much easier.

Gunner entered carrying two coffees and a huge grin.

<Chapter 142

The one that sends thrills down my body.

“Thought you were busy at the club,” I said, standing up, walking to him, taking both coffees out of his hand, placing them on the desk, turning back, wrapping my arms around his waist, and resting my hand on his warm chest.

Gunner’s arms came around me, pulling me to him; he kissed my head.

He sighed, like we both had been waiting for a moment like this, to hold each other.

“They don’t need me for what they are doing. They will return after you go to work and do some cleaning.” I wasn’t sure what that meant and didn’t ask, because I was unsure if I wanted to know.

“So, I have you all to myself for the night?” I asked, with a smirk.

“Sounds like it.” I felt his need growing, a hardness that could not be mistaken for anything else but what it was. I loved that I had that effect on him.

A knock at the door stopped any chance of taking this further.

Gunner released me and turned to open the door, revealing Dad waiting in the hallway. I moved to my desk, picked up my coffee, and took a sip.

“Come in,” Gunner said, clearing his throat, as something got caught in his throat.

Gunner moved to pick up his coffee, and we both looked at Dad, waiting to hear what he came for. I had thought he would be busy with Scones, knowing she was moving in today. It was the first chance they’d had since we returned from our camping trip.

“Where’s Scones?” I blurted out, and thought how rude that was.

“Sorry, how are you, Dad?” I added quickly.

Dad chuckled, took the few steps to reach me, took my coffee, put it on the table, and as Gunner pulled me in for a hug. I am not used to displays of affection like this. In the past, no one had been like this, not even my best friend. When I looked back, it was all me giving them support, so for me to be the recipient, it takes me by surprise.

“Scones walking about, looking at her new home, she’s never had all this space before. I think she fell in love with the mini kitchen in the bedroom, and the huge shower, and her own deep bath, no need to worry who might have used it before her.” Dad sounded happy, and that’s all that counted. “The settlement has gone through for the business, and I have done the final payroll for the company. All appears to be going well; should see the final payment in the bank today, then will shift it to a term deposit, and maybe look at investing in some shares, or something.” I started to give him the rundown. Once we moved to the lounge and relaxed, Dad made a coffee for himself

<Chapter 142

at my coffee bar, table, and mini kitchen-call it what you will; it’s nothing fancy: a coffee machine, bar fridge, a small sink, and some mugs-all you need to keep you going if you have to spend a lot of time in here.

“You have a package for me.” Dad finally got to the reason he was here.

“Package?” Gunner looked between us.

I moved to my safe and opened it. I pulled out the gun, still wrapped up in paper, closed the safe and turned to the table, laid the package on the table, and unwrapped it carefully, showing what was inside.

“Jesus,” Gunner said, followed by a few more colourful choice words.

“You haven’t touched the gun?” Dad asked, squatting down to look at it closely, without touching it.

“No, only the paper, and Oddball hasn’t touched it either, just the wrapping.” I looked at the gun and wondered if it had ever killed someone- silly thought, of course it has; why else would the police swoop in the way they had?

“Good, wrap it back up, and put it in a cloth bag. I will get it flown to our lab for fingerprinting and investigation.” I did as Dad asked, taking care not to touch the gun; the last thing I need is my fingerprints on it. Found an old velvet bag and slid it in, leaving it on the table.

My mobile rang.

“Hello, Cora speaking.”

“Cora, it’s Scrubs. Can I come and speak with you?”

“Sure, I’m at home.”

“Good, I’ll be there in five,” and he hung up.

I notified the gate that he would be visiting, and looked up at Gunner and Dad.

“Scrubs on his way.” Dad took the bag and placed it out of sight before the three of us sat and talked about the weekend and the fun we had had, avoiding discussing what we came home to. He bonded more closely with Scones, and both had a great time.

Scrubs was shown to my office and looked uncomfortable.

“Stop pacing and spit it out, boy,” Dad growled out, not liking the tension that Scrubs brought in

with him.

“The board doesn’t like so many club members running the emergency department; they are afraid that it would be bad for us if the public decided that we were treating our own before other

Chapter 142

patients, and so I am sorry, Cora, but your position has been terminated.”

Ciahol

Scrubs looked like he’d just eaten a lemon; he obviously didn’t like this, or being the one to advise me of my termination. He was looking at me, waiting for me to do what?

Cry?

Scream and shout?

18-

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