I was already manually running through options in my head, but I figured I could swing something if needed. I would make the call when we were done here.
“Pity you didn’t ask when I was still a prospect. I could have had this sweet thing way sooner.” I smoothed my hands over my cut and smirked at him.
Micro offered me the usual shit-eating grin.
“Funny how that worked out, eh?” He sobered and rested his chin on his hand.
“This is a make or break kinda situation for this brother though. Truthfully, I’m not sure we can even help him.”
“With what?”
He sighed. “I did some very bad things before I became the well-rounded man I am today, and one of them was Tommy. I locked him up in the tunnels and left him there for days. I mean, I fed him or whatever, but… yeah, I’m the reason he’s… Lissa says it’s a form of PTSD, and being there at that club, where those tunnels are… I mean, it’s probably no better here, because of course I’m here, and I caused it, but he wants to try. He’s barely been patched in for a year.”
Whoa. That’s a lot.
“What if this doesn’t work for him?”
Micro sighed heavily. “Then he moves on, but I’m really hoping it won’t come to that. Lissa thinks a change of scenery is going to work wonders for him, and he’s probably going to take some time away from the club altogether, but if he decides he’s definitely coming here, I want us ready to take him in and give him a home.”
I could see Micro’s guilt was weighing on him, digging away at all the good he’d been doing here, and if I hadn’t known the man for a while now, I might have said it’s what he deserved, but that’s not how it is.
He was a fucking good man, and while it wouldn’t undo the damage he’d done, he was doing everything he could to atone for it, and that had me respecting the hell out of him.
“I’ll make sure we’re set up. He got any trades we can use right now though?”
Micro grinned at last, his eyes lighting up.
“Not for this, I don’t think, but once we have a kitchen? We’re gonna be the happiest fuckers in town. The guy can cook. Like seriously cook. He’s a legend. Reacher’s pissed to be losing him, but apparently they’re already working on replacements.”
Huh. A cook. Well, if we were going to have a cool kitchen here, we’d need one. The thought of home cooked meals that I didn’t have to make, and Glory didn’t have to make, sounded pretty damn good to me.
“Okay, I’ll make a call, and have something on standby. I’d need like a day’s notice to get it shipped here, so keep me posted.”
Micro nodded, and waved me off, my work here apparently done, so that just left finding Stag, since he clearly hadn’t reappeared while I was busy.
What I found was just weird. He was standing in the middle of his tent with his back to the entrance, his arms waving and making shapes, and when he heard me in the doorway, he froze, one arm still up as he spun, looking for all the world like he was trying to cast a spell. Or cheerleading. At this point, him doing wizardry would be way less disturbing.
“You trying to curse me or something?”
His arm dropped, and his cheeks flushed.
“Course not. Why, do you deserve it?”
“No, but you do, you lazy shit. Why the fuck aren’t you out there helping us?”
He groaned. “Seriously? I just did a fucking nightshift out on the motorway clearing rubble. Everything hurts, man.”
“What’s your point? You stalk girls, you have to pay for it. That shouldn’t mean we take on more work to ease your fucking burden. Get out there in five, or I’ll kick your lazy ass out there.”
“Hey, Henley?”
He was already smirking, when I paused at the tent opening.
“What?”
“You’re so hot when you’re ordering me around.”
Glory