Biker's Claim The Broken Angel is Mine (Cora and Jake) novel Chapter 51

Gunner POV

My day sucked. I had been in the office almost all day, doing paperwork. I am sure it breeds in my inbox, or jumps back from the outbox to the inbox, because that box never appears to reduce. I only got to leave my office during lunch when I looked around the workshop to see what was going on, what bikes were left to repair or service, and they too never seemed to reduce. It might be good for business, but it was exhausting, and it might be due to taking on more apprentices, as one finished his apprenticeship a few months ago and might move on. We hadn’t discussed what he was going to do next. Guess that’s another task to do, and soon, before he finds somewhere else to go, he’s a good mechanic, learns quickly, and I don’t want to lose him.

I looked up the online applicants. There’s an app where people apply for an apprenticeship. It’s a

government site that all trade employees and employers can access, where they can post names, ages,

and areas of interest. I searched for any kids who were looking to be bike mechanic apprentices, where they live, and whether they had ticked the box saying they were willing to move to where the jobs are. Country towns, even one as large as ours, find the list of willing boys for an apprenticeship is slim

pickings.

I find two, one is local, the other three towns away, on another club’s turf. It’s risky taking on a kid that belongs to another club’s turf. You train them up, and they leave to go back home all traded up and ready to work on the club’s bikes. It’s a bitter pill, but it happens. You have to be careful not to disclose too much around them, because you never know if they will report back home about our club goings–on, such as club runs and damaged bikes.

I am willing to talk to the kid first before dismissing him completely. We are not on bad terms with that club, and it might be beneficial to take the kid on, even if he leaves at the end. It helps build a comfortable relationship with other clubs; not all clubs are like we are. We have to be careful; we might talk to Oddball first to confirm there’s no bad blood between our clubs.

A text message from Cora stating that the night crew had arrived and that she was almost ready to come

home.

Good, the workshop closed an hour ago, and I was more than ready to get away from all this paperwork.

I met her by the door, kissed her, took the lunch box from Cora, and let her two free hands zip up her jacket

and take the helmet.

“You are good with children,” Bluey stated as we headed to where the bikes were parked. Cora by my side, my arm around her waist.

“I agree, the nurses are all praising your ability,” Scrubs added as he put on his helmet. “Thanks, they respond well to a calm, soft voice. Nothing special,” Cora replied. To her, it was all part of the job. I could tell by how casually she spoke about it, just like my paperwork. I don’t like it, but it’s part of

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the job.

“No, it’s more than that, it’s a gift,” Bluey argued back.

“From now on, all children are yours to deal with,” Scrubs added. That shocked me, and I felt Cora stiffen.

“Isn’t that limiting me and reducing experience for the other nurses?” Cora debated back, and I could hear her anger and defences rising.

“We will talk about this once we get home. I need hot food and coffee,” Bluey replied, as she climbed on the back of Scrubs, discussion over until dinner time.

The compliments were one thing, but to tell her all the children were hers, sounded so wrong even in my ears, that it would be like me telling a guy that he has worked only on trail bikes, or something like that, just not good, and it was the wrong thing to say to Cora; even I knew she was so much more than a

children’s nurse. I don’t understand what happened today, but I will find out before we have lunch, and

Cora has to listen to her boss, reduce her to something less than she can be, and was.

Cora was off and walking fast to the door. I hadn’t even turned the bike off yet. This was not my Cora; this was an angry tiger getting ready to fight, clawing out, and snarling. Bluey and Scrubs don’t know what they

just unleashed.

I kicked the side stand down, turned off the bike, and hightailed it inside to hunt for my Babe.

“Better watch out, Gunner. I don’t know what you did, but she’s fighting mad.”

“It wasn’t me, but you’re right. Going to see if I can calm the beast before she talks to Bluey and Scrubs, or they might find she’s more than they can handle.” I laughed as I continued to the stairs, as quickly as my long strides could get me there.

Cora was in the bathroom, her clothes scattered on the floor, something that Cora never does; she’s a neat freak, more so than I am. This was not a good sign. I picked up her clothes and placed them at the end of the bed, unsure whether she wanted them in the hamper, then shucked my clothes and joined her in the

bathroom.

She was doing her type of swearing.

“Cow dung, fire truck, quacking duck, how dare they, granny’s pants, baby pooper, do this to me. Horse manure, pig swill.” Cora was different, good different. Even as mad as she is, she still won’t say fuk. I wrapped my arms around her torso, pulling her to me, and let her hit my chest with her fist, not hard enough to hurt me, more of a small tap, even with her crying, as she continued to berate Bluey and Scrubs. Cora was mindful of what she was doing to me and wouldn’t actually hurt me. It warmed my heart, knowing she must care a bit about me, that she didn’t let all her anger out on me.

“Talk to me, help me understand?” I whispered, not trying to stop her, but to let Cora get all her frustration

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