Page 13 of Stitch
“With coffee. I can’t say it’s the best idea, but feel free to bring it with you. Thanks for waiting with him, Cammy.”
She turned to walk out, and I glanced at Camille, then shrugged and followed her. She couldn’t make me speak if I didn’t want to talk, right?
Cammy
It was him. Itwas really him, and wow, he was so much hotter in daylight, but he had a vulnerability that made me want to mother him, at the same time that I really wanted to be something very different to him.
So he was the VP, who Lissa had never met before, which made sense because my vague description had left her confused. Why hadn’t she met him though? I thought biker clubs were really tight, and he clearly lived at the clubhouse, because he’d run off up those stairs, hadn’t he?
The phone rang and I lunged at it, because finally, something to do.
“Phoenix Therapy, this is Cammy.”
“Hey Cammy, it’s Reacher. Everything good?”
I glanced around me and then caught on to what he was asking.
“Oh! You mean did Stitch come to see Lissa? Yeah, he’s with her right now.”
I actually heard his sigh of relief.
“Thank fuck for that. I was fully prepared to drag him by the scruff of his neck if he refused.”
Wow. It was clearly pretty serious, whatever the hell it was. I desperately wanted to know, but it wasn’t my business. At least not yet.
“I’m glad to confirm that it wasn’t necessary, Reacher. He could be a while though. Lissa has no other clients scheduled today, so she’ll give him as long as he wants, I guess.”
A raised voice in Lissa’s office caught my attention, and I turned to see if the door would open. There was no further shouting, so I shrugged it off, and turned back to face the desk.
“If there are any issues, call me back on this number.” He rattled off a number which I suddenly realised I had already, because when Ice set up the security, he also listed a bunch of numbers to ring for help, starting with Reacher and him.
“I will. I’m sure it’ll be fine, but he’s lucky to have someone who cares to makesure he seeks help for his issues.”
He cleared his throat. “You know anything about his situation?”
Uh oh. Had I said something wrong? I was too good at that with these damn cagy bikers.
“No sir. Just trying to say that Lissa’s good at what she does. I’m glad she’s branching out into other areas of therapy, and not just rehabilitation.” Oh, maybe Stitch is an addict after all. I hadn’t even considered it because he seemed troubled, but not antsy. Had I been judging him through rose-tinted lenses, though?
“Uh yeah. She’s helped me with getting some stuff off my chest. I know she’ll be vital for some of the guys here. Men tend to bottle shit up, so yeah, talking to someone like Lissa might be the difference between healing, and taking more extreme measures.”
I felt a pit of fear in my stomach then. Was he talking about Stitch? How much more extreme were we talking? Was he… was he suicidal?
“Uh, Reacher… she’s safe with him, yeah?”
He was silent for a beat too long.
“Why would you ask that?”Oh god.I turned to look at the door again.
“There was shouting in there.”
He cursed. “Is there still shouting?”
“No.”
“Is there any way to discreetly check in with Lissa?”
My shoulders relaxed then, because of course there was.
