Page 49 of Micro
Reacher
Assoonasthey’dleft, I led Stitch to my office, and slammed the door behind him.
“Tell me we just did the right fucking thing, brother, because I’m lost here. We were going to put him down, and now we’re letting him out of here, knowing full well he could leg it, and escape justice again?” I’d played it the way he’d asked me to, but even though Micro seemed different, my old lady still walked with a fucking limp, thanks to him. Nothing could undo that, could it?
Stitch walked straight to my desk drawer, and dug out my not-so-secret bottle of bourbon, and both glasses, pouring a measure for each of us, and sitting down.
“It’s the right move, Reacher. We know where he’ll be, we even have eyes on him right now. If he tries to run, he dies, but if he can get into that club, and take down the leaders, without our own guys getting in the crossfire, then I count it as a win. That kid is what matters right now.”
Smug bastard thought I didn’t understand that, but I did. I got it loud and clear, and the kid was always going to be my priority, which is why we sent guys after her, the second we knew there was a possibility that she was at risk. That’s why we had guys close enough to get to the Rogues’ territory, and scope out their club from a safe distance. That’s why we had eyes on the girl now.
“What if he does it though? What if he turns up back here, with a smarmy ass look on his face, and his woman on his arm, kid safe, and everything done as we demanded? What then? It’s only gonna get harder to take that fucking asshole away from that woman who thinks she loves him.”
Stitch drained his glass, and slid it in my direction, like suddenly I’m his fucking bartender, and for some reason, I topped it up, and mine.
“If we kill him after that, who are we really punishing? Him or her? I don’t even think Torch is fully behind killing him now, and I know Lissa isn’t. She’ll win the old ladies over, and you know it. No matter how many of them he terrorised, they’ll band together, just like they did last week about the bar. They own us now, and we’ll bend to keep them happy.” Yeah, the fucking bar.
Thanks to them, it was being fucking refurbished, and smartened up, so it was more ‘old lady friendly’. Not only that, but they now had a section that was just for them, so they could have girls nights, and keep us men away from them. Didn’t stop us watching them like hawks from a few tables away though, did it?
Stitch cleared his throat, and stared at his glass, clearly mulling something over, but was he ever gonna come out with it?
“Maybe there’s a way to make this work for us, Reacher. Maybe we look at this as an opportunity to expand.”
“Expand? Jesus fuck, you think I don’t have enough shit here to worry about?” My whole body felt an extra wave of exhaustion just at the thought, and I was tired enough, what with Ally’s new menopausal crankiness if I dared to fucking disagree with her.
“Think about it. Phoenix MC, Hampshire Chapter has a nice ring to it, right? You don’t need to be there and here, though, do you?”
Jesus. “Tell me you’re not thinking of fucking off there to run shit as President. I need you here.”
Stitch chuckled, and rolled his eyes at me.
“Trust me, there’s no way I’m leaving here, and Camille would kill me if I tried to move us. She uh…” his cheeks darkened a little, “wants to have our baby here, surrounded by family.”
What the fuck! I slammed my empty glass down and gaped at him, my brother who I thought I was losing, not so long ago.
“She’s pregnant?”
“That’s generally what happens before babies come, yeah.” He was grinning wide as fuck though, so I let him have his joke, and dragged him up and into a hug.
“That’s fucking brilliant, I’m so happy for you guys. Wait, how long have you known, asshole?”
He couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s been killing me not telling you, brother. She wanted to wait until she was past the three month mark, and that’s literally today, but I couldn’t hold back. I’m gonna be a fucking dad!”
We sat back down again with a fresh drink, because sometimes you have to celebrate the big things so they don’t pass you by. Having kids wasn’t something on the cards for me and Ally, and that was fine, but I’d be a fucking dedicated uncle to Stitch’s kid.
“We decided to try a few months ago, and held back on saying anything, because… well, I didn’t think I could even make that happen what with…” he rolled his eyes, “but Camille’s response was that there’s enough ‘spunk in my junk’, and yeah, here we are.”
So much weight seemed to have lifted from my shoulders with this revelation. Life was moving on, despite all the shit we’d been through. A new beginning. A new little soul would be joining us. What was more important than that?
“So why the push for a second chapter, now especially?”
He cradled his glass and stared seriously at me.
“I need to know this world is getting better rather than worse. That my kid is going to grow up in a place that is safer for them than it was for me, for any of us. Eradicating another club of bad seeds sounds like a damn good start, and I don’t have the energy for it myself, so let Micro go in. Let him risk his life, like she says he keeps doing. Let him fix his mess, and if he does, let’s see about letting him try and resurrect a club out of the ashes of what’s left. If it works out, and we feel it’s worth doing, we can patch them over when we’re ready. We can put eyes and ears in there, to monitor how he runs things. Rocket’s been looking to get out of town for a bit, after that on again off again thing of his imploded on him. Stag is always looking for more excitement. We could put them with him. They could keep us posted. This could be a way forward, brother. If he survives.”
Well, hell. He’d put real thought into this, maybe had always been thinking about expansion, but I was just about coping with keeping shit running here. If we did have a second chapter, maybe that could take some of the pressure off of us. It’d taken months to get the cops to fuck off and leave us alone after the whole Micro debacle, so wouldn’t another chapter, and an extended family of brothers, be an asset?
“What if he dies though?”
