Page 3 of Stitch
Lissa waved at me to follow her back into the main room, then opened a door to show me an office she’d set up like her old one. It had a comfy leather sofa, and matching armchair, a low table between them, and across the room, a desk and leather swivel chair. Bookcases were lining one wall, and the pictures from her old office adorned the walls.
“I’m going to help with whatever I can. My training isn’t limited to rehab or drug therapy, so I’d like to offer more help where I can.”
“The place is looking good already. You’ve had it, what, a week?”
She grinned proudly.
“My man is resourceful, and we have endless big strong men to help us out. They set this office up in half a day, and one of them built the reception desk from scratch. He’s a hell of a carpenter.”
I bit back a sigh. “So what you’re saying is I’ll get to ogle hot bikers all day every day? Did I mention this is already the best job ever? My dream job, in fact?”
Three
Iwas dressed, andstaring apprehensively at my cut. Was I ready for this? Putting it on meant taking my VP role back on, and being a part of the club again, but I hadn’t returned whole, so I wasn’t sure exactly what returning even meant at this point. How much of me had even returned?
“Brother, we’re all behind you.” Elise had popped out to run errands, so it was just Reacher with me in my room, so at least only one person was there to witness my weakness.
“Jesus… why am I here, Reacher? I’m not me anymore.” I dropped down on my bed, with my head in my hands. I felt out of my depth, and so far he was the only one of our club I’d even seen. I felt him sit beside me on the bed, one hand landing heavily on my shoulder.
“Brother, I have no idea what you’re going through, but you have nothing to fear here. We’re family. We’re all here to help you stay strong, whatever happens next.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, desperate to not break down in front of him. I already looked like a pathetic loser, and I couldn’t bear to demean myself even further right now.
“I feel like there’s an axe hanging over me, Reacher. My days are numbered, and I don’t know what to do with the ones I have left.”
He cursed, and tightened his hand on my shoulder.
“God dammit, don’t talk like that. You’re not fucking dying on me, let’s get thatstraight. We’ll fight this to the bitter end.”
Don’t fucking cry like a pussy.
“I appreciate that, man, but you’re not the one who’ll actually be doing the fighting, and I don’t know that I have the strength for it anymore. Maybe it’s just my time.”
“Have you been saying that shit to Elise this whole time? You’re all she has, Stitch, and she needs you to stick around. Who else is gonna scare off every potential boyfriend and guard her fucking ‘virtue’?”
I almost smiled, like I felt the urge, but it disappeared fast.
“I’ll name you in my will as my successor. You can take over for me.”
“Asshole. Don’t make me punch you. Now get your cut on. Church in…” He checked his watch. “One hour, ish.” Hell, straight in at the deep end.
“You only told them what I said, right?”
He nodded as I watched him head for the door.
“It’s up to you when they know. Only Ice knows more, and you know he won’t tell.”
“And Ice has an old lady now?”
He nodded again. “Thanks for voting via proxy. I know it was a bit of a rush, but he’s all in, and she’s the one I told you about, setting up a little place just offsite. She’s good to talk to, man. Even I’ve opened up to her. It helps. It’d help you.”
Yeah, because talking about my shit was so easy.
“Maybe. Uh the stuff you emailed to me? I’m in agreement. You go for it, and I’m signing it off. Shit has to change, and it needs to happen now.”
It looked like tension dropped from his shoulders with my words, like he’d been dreading my answer, but he shouldn’t have.
“Brother, I’ll always back you on club decisions, you know that. For as long as I’m around, we’re a united front.”
