Page 9 of Ice
Down at the bar, I ordered two coffees from Tommy, telling him one was for Alicia, since I had no idea how she took it. I stared at my grey t-shirt, or formerly grey t-shirt. Had it had milk in? I had no way of knowing.
“Hey, brother.” Stitch leaned against the bar beside me. He looked tired. Not like himself. That familiar easy grin wasn’t even remotely present.
“Hey. What’s up?”
Stitch stared at the bar for a moment, letting out a sigh.
“The uh… rehab centre called. Apparently you didn’t make another appointment before you left yesterday.” Jesus. It was like being hunted down like a dog.
“Yeah. I figured I would see what’s going on here, before I tied up any of my time. I might be needed.”
He fixed me with one of those shrewd gazes I was used to from him.
“Do I even need to call bullshit on that one? You know you’re off duty unless there’s a big fucking crisis. Until you feel a bit more like yourself.”
I nodded at Tommy as he slid a coffee in front of me, and another beside me. He raised his eyebrows at Stitch, but he shook his head.
“Going in a minute, thanks, Tommy.”
Yeah, he was off. Weird. Because I’d skipped out on booking another appointment? Or was it something more? I’d caused problems with the cartel, hadn’t I? Had I brought a whole bunch of shit down on the club, and nobody was telling me?
“Stitch, what’s happening?”
He ran a hand through his hair, and his face fell, as he gently eased his hand away, looking lost for a moment. Did he have the same problem as me? Was he dealing with his body feeling alien to him? Was he dealing with hating every second that breath filled his lungs, and he could feel everything? I’d never seen him using, but what if he had a secret too? Didn’t we all have fucking secrets?
“Look, just call and make an appointment, or I’ll do it for you. Your future with the club is contingent on you staying clean, got it?” He shot me a glare, and turned to walk away, nodding his hello at Alicia as she approached, a fresh t-shirt on. It looked like one I’d seen Reacher wear before, and she’d knotted it at the waist, so it wasn’t so big on her.
“That’s his favourite concert shirt,” I said lightly, and she shrugged.
“He’ll get over it.”
I pointed at her coffee, and she slid onto the stool in front of it.
“Stitch seemed pissed.” She looked worried about him, and it bothered me, because I was so focused on myself that maybe I was missing everyone else’s problems, and letting them struggle too.
“Is he okay?”
She sighed. “Nothing for you to worry about, Ice. What was he on about though?”
I cursed, instantly apologising to my President’s old lady, but she grinned.
“You think Reacher doesn’t curse up a storm daily? Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”
I scratched at my hair. It still felt wrong. When would everything about my body feel right again? Or would it never happen? Was this how I felt before?
“Apparently I’m in the doghouse for not making a second appointment with that uppity fucking counsellor.”
Alicia shrugged. “So call and make an appointment now. Seems like it’s worth a try, right? Even if you hate every minute of it. If it helps even a little, it helped.”
I groaned, and dug my phone out of my pocket, along with the business card she’d given me. Pressed into my hand, right after I pretty much insulted her, while clumsily attempting to hit on her. Naturally, it had been an epic fail.
Lissa
Heactuallyphonedandmade another appointment. I was so surprised. Did I feel bad for reporting his lack offollow up appointment to his Club President? Not really. My job was to keep him on track, and help him through his struggles, and as his next of kin, his Club President was the person I should go to in this instance.
This guy, Reacher, was the one who made the first appointment, instructing me to keep him informed if Ice didn’t show, or made no effort. And when he’d asked me, an hour ago, when I reported Ice’s lack of appointment, I’d lied. Yes, he’d talked to me. Yes, he was working on his issues. Yes, he was trying.
It wasn’t a complete lie. He’d let me in on a few things, but there was clearly a lot going on with him, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it. Of everything. And not just because it was my job. He was a lost little boy inside a man’s body, and something about that made me want to nurture him. Heal him. Help him grow back into his own skin.
