Seven
A fter my failed attempt to ride last night, I’d gone back to the bar to find a bottle of anything I could drink my sorrows away with, and went back outside to sit on the hard ground, leaning against my bike, drinking until I fell asleep, hell, or passed out. Whatever.
“The fuck are you doing out here? Did you sleep there?” Reacher was towering over me when I woke up, having slid down onto the concrete at some point. No wonder everything fucking hurt.
I pushed up from the ground, and grimaced as I heard something glass land softly on the concrete. I’d knocked over what was left of… was that fucking tequila? I didn’t even normally drink that crap.
Reacher grimaced, moving down onto the ground beside me.
“You know I’m getting too old for this shit, right?”
Ouch . I glared at him. “Thank you for the reminder that I won’t get to do that, man. That’s fucking cold.”
He frowned at me for a moment, and then his expression changed. Understanding? Did he finally get with the program?
“Brother, you’re not gonna die, for fuck’s sake. It might not even be cancer. You’re still waiting right? You didn’t get some news?”
I leaned back against my bike again, wondering why the fuck it was so uncomfortable today.
“It’s gonna be, Reacher. I can feel it growing in me. Eating up everything good, and leaving disease behind. I… fuck me… maybe I only have months left, and I keep thinking I’m wasting them. I’m sitting on my ass, and I’m telling myself there’s no point, but if this is all I have, why the fuck can’t I get out and live?”
He tried leaning against his own bike, and it wobbled.
“Fuck. How are you doing that?”
I shrugged. “Angles, I dunno. Why, though, man, why am I sitting here vegetating when the last of my life is going on without me? Why don’t I have the… fuck …” I was gonna say ‘balls’. Why didn’t I have the balls to get on with things… I couldn’t even joke like that anymore.
“I literally don’t have the fucking balls anymore, do I? Did my courage go with it? Was that one nut where all my fucking bravery was?”
Reacher was staring at me, his mouth hanging slightly open.
“The fuck? Look, I can’t help you with this intensely deep and meaningful shit, and I’m not really looking to delve into the subject of your balls and what was in them. I do have a suggestion though.”
“I swear to god, if it’s to ‘man up’, I’m gonna kick you so hard in your balls, they’ll condense into one, and you’ll be like me. See how you like it.”
He edged away slightly, looking horrified.
“Actually, I was gonna suggest you talk to Ice’s old lady, Lissa. She’s a therapist. She’s the one who helped him.”
“Helped him, or helped herself to him? Pretty sure it’s not exactly the best recommendation to send me to a therapist who fucks her patients.”
He jabbed a finger in my direction.
“Will you get your head out of your ass? Stitch, man, I need you back. I can’t do this without you, and I’ve been doing my best, but you know you balance out the crap side of me. It’s why we did this together. I know you don’t wanna talk to some stranger about this shit, but maybe it’ll help that you don’t know her yet. Like it’s easier than talking to one of us, right?”
“Will it stop you bitching at me?” My head throbbed in time with my heart, which was racing at the thought of telling all of my shit to some stranger, especially the old lady of a brother. What if her confidentiality didn’t extend to her man?
“Yeah, and don’t worry, she’s sound. I tell her shit, and I know it won’t get back to Ice. She’ll always prioritise appointments for the club too. It’s part of our deal with her. ”
“You’re not gonna shut up until I literally go there, are you?”
He smirked in response.
“Fine. Fuck it. Let me go get cleaned up first, then I’ll see if she has time for me.”
“I’ll sort that part. Just get your ass sorted, because you look like a fucking hobo.”
Cammy
T he visitor Lissa was expecting didn’t turn up until after lunch. I was busy scrolling through social media, because I was bored out of my mind, and then the door opened and closed, and I took a second to look up.
It was a biker, but he’d already turned around, and grabbed the door handle, like he was ready to bolt.
“Wait! Stitch? Is that your name?” His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t move. He had long blonde hair, just to his shoulders, and as I assessed him, his build, his hair, I wondered, could it be him? The kisser who made me weak at the knees? The bastard, as I’d been calling him in my head. Stitch? The elusive VP?
He let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, I can’t fucking do this.” I’d reached him by this point, and some crazy urge made me rest a hand on his shoulder. He tensed further, and let out another heavy sigh.
“It’s you, isn’t it? From last night.”
I wanted him to turn around before I answered him, then I realised he wasn’t sure, like maybe he hadn’t really even seen me. Did he just see a warm body, and a potentially willing pussy?
“Wow, is that your way of saying you barely fucking remember what I looked like?”
He spun on his heel, and even angry, he was hot. Seriously hot. There was that stubbly beard growth that I’d felt when he kissed me. And there were those intense eyes. Blue. Bluer than I’d imagined. My knees weakened again at the sight of his face, of how it felt to have those eyes on me.
“Uh hi.”
His lips twitched almost into a grin, at the same response I gave him last night, then he sighed.
“I’m sorry. It’s not that I didn’t recognise you, it’s just that I turned before I even really looked around me. I thought I could do this, but I don’t think I can.”
I glanced at Lissa’s door. She’d told me to inform her when he arrived, but I had a feeling he needed time first.
“Do you drink coffee?”
He sighed. “Starting me out easy, eh? Jesus, I can’t fucking believe I forced my mouth on my brother’s old lady. I’m such an asshole. Why didn’t you tell him? He should be kicking my ass for that. I… I deserve an asskicking. I’m so sorry.”
Suddenly the guilt on his face made sense. He hadn’t met Lissa before, so he thought she was me. He thought I was with Ice, and he’d made a move on me.
“Stitch, my name’s Camille, Cammy to my friends. Lissa’s in her office.” He blinked, glancing from me to the closed office door.
“You’re not Ice’s old lady?”
My lips made a smile without my control. He looked like a weight had just lifted from his shoulders, and I hated that I’d put it there.
“I guess that’ll teach you to introduce yourself to women before you stick your tongue in them.”
He groaned, and rubbed a hand down his face.
“Fuck. I deserved that. I’m sorry, I really am. I’m not that guy. I don’t know what I am, but I’m definitely not that guy. I can’t even blame alcohol, because I only had a few. I guess I can’t drink like I used to.”
His face suddenly fell again, like the weight had dropped right back in place.
“Is Lissa with another client, then?”
I shook my head, and pointed to the kitchen at the back.
“No she’s not, but I really want to make you a drink, while you catch your breath, and she’ll be ready when you are.”
He watched as I hooked a finger through one of his belt-loops, and tugged him along with me.
“Uh… is this a kidnapping? Is that what’s happening right now? Should I shout for help?”
I shot him a grin as I towed him to the kitchen, while noticing that he just willingly followed me.
“If that’s the case, you’re a little more willing than I’d expect a kidnap victim to be.”
He shrugged. “Not got much to lose these days. It might be an improvement.”
I set the kettle on and turned to stare at him, my arms folded. I just wanted to keep looking at him, taking in every detail, but I still felt like giving him a hard time too.
“So you weren’t willing because it’s me, but because you figure why the fuck not, I have nothing to lose? Just so you know, you’re not that great with women.”