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Rev shook his head. “We all have, but Ozzy ain’t gonna ambush her like that. She got pissed the last time when she had to run somethin’ over to his house and she got an eyeful of shit she never wants to see again.”
“Afraid the old man’s got a bigger dick than you?” Ozzy asked the younger brother.
“We all know how big his dick is. No need to compare. I beat him by a good inch.” Rev grinned.
Cage snorted. “Yeah, okay, brother. You might be able to convince Reilly of that, but the rest of us know better.”
Ozzy shook his head. “Ain’t here to talk about everyone’s damn dick. You all know mine’s the biggest.”
“Are you out there comparing dick sizes again?” came Reilly’s irritated voice from the office.
“You can hear us?” Rev asked.
Reilly peeked her head out of the office door. “Yes, because you’re all yelling like you’re hard of hearing. It’s making it hard for me and Shay to talk business when you’re all talking about dicks.”
Whip snickered like a twelve-year-old boy. “She said hard.”
“Then close the fuckin’ door if you don’t wanna hear it,” Rook bitched at her.
Reilly shot him the bird and slammed the door shut so hard it rattled.
Ozzy dropped his head and shook it. How the fuck any work got done at the garage, he had no fucking clue. It was a goddamn circus.
Now he just needed to find the ringmaster.
He moved to the steel door at the rear of the garage and opened it a crack. He put his mouth to the opening and yelled, “Your wrinkled dick put away, old man?”
He heard a grunt, then something metal crashing against the door with a crack so loud it made Ozzy jump. He closed it and laughed. A few seconds later he opened it again and peered out. Dutch was sitting at the picnic table set up out back, smoking.
He opened the door wider and glanced down. “You bring a wrench outside whenever you smoke?”
“Never know when I gotta throw one at one of those ignorpotamuses.”
Ignor-what?
Ozzy snorted and stepped outside with his palms held in front of him in surrender. “You got any more of those wrenches?” He wasn’t sure if he’d be fast enough to duck in time. “I come in peace.”
“Bring me that one here.”
“What do I look like, your bitch?”
Dutch turned his head and ran his gaze down him. “That’s exactly what you fuckin’ look like.”
Ozzy left the wrench where it lay in the dirt and moved closer. He sniffed the air. When he settled at the table opposite Dutch, he held out his hand.
“You think I like you enough to share this with you?” Dutch growled, taking another hit of the joint. Once he blew out the smoke and right into Ozzy’s face, he finished with, “I don’t.”
Ozzy grinned. “Us Originals gotta stick together.”
Dutch waved a wrinkled hand. “Bah.”
With another grumble, he handed over the half-smoked joint to Ozzy.
While Ozzy was taking a hit, the garage owner asked, “What the fuck d’you want?”
“I brought Shay here to meet with you.”
“Shay?”
“Yeah, the woman I talked to you about.”
“The one who you think her pop might be an Original.”
Ozzy shook his head. “Don’t know if he was or not. My guess is probably not, but wanna be sure. But no, that ain’t why she’s here.”
“She need her car worked on?”
“No.”
“She need to see a real fuckin’ dick, unlike yours?”
“Doubt she wants to get an eyeful of your gray pubes.”
“No matter how gray or wrinkly my nuts get, the girls still like to suck them.”
“Good to know,” Ozzy muttered. “Ain’t here to talk about your sac, either. She’s here to talk to you about the website for the garage.”
He glanced behind him at the building. “She invisible? Don’t see her.”
“She’s inside talkin’ to Lee right now about Shelter from the Storm.”
“Then why you buggin’ me?”
“Because I wanted to ask you if your forgetful old ass found that box of photos.”
“What box of photos?”
Ozzy sighed. “The box you said you had and needed to find. The one with the photos from back in the day.”
Dutch scratched the back of his neck and squinted. “I said that?”
“Jesus fuck, old man, you losin’ your marbles?”
“Just fuckin’ with you.”
Ozzy shut his eyes, sucked air in through his nose, then blew it slowly out of his mouth.
“They’re at the house.”
“Not doin’ me any good there. She’s here now.”
“She in town for a bit, right?”
“Yeah, ’til she’s done with the list of shit she agreed to do for Trip.”
“She gonna be out at the farm with you next Sunday?”
Shit. He hadn’t thought about next Sunday’s run. “Yeah.”
“Gonna bring them then.”
He wasn’t thrilled about waiting another week, but she wasn’t going anywhere for a while. There really wasn’t a reason to rush and it might end up being a dead end, anyway. Knowing Dutch, the shoebox full of photos could be all of naked women who hung out at the warehouse. Ozzy would have to go through them first to remove anything too obscene. “Don’t forget.”
