Page 6 of Micro
I tucked my legs under me, and turned in his direction a little more, not feeling at all uncomfortable with our proximity, even though I was wearing just some light pyjamas.
“You don’t have to deal with all this stuff on your own, Mike. I promise, I can be here for you, I can listen, and help you heal your mind too.”
He tilted his head at me, resting his mug on his blanket covered knee.
“Like in an official capacity? You’re a therapist or something?” He wasn’t asking in a snarky way, like he was throwing my offer back in my face, so I simply shook my head.
“Friends have ears too, Mike. I think we’re friends at this point, don’t you?”
He chuffed a soft laugh, pushing his ragged hair out of his face. It was a very dark blonde, almost light brown, and adorably unruly, while his eyes were dark brown, and so expressive, that I sometimes literally felt his pain with him.
“Friends? Woman, I owe you my life, and if that just makes us friends, then that seems like you’re not getting enough out of this. Not that I’m someone you should get too close to. Jesus, did I just come on to you? That’s not what I meant to do. I used to be good at this shit.”
Well, ouch. Clearly he didn’t mean to show me the wrong kind of attention, as in, wrong inhiseyes, but I think it wasn’t just surprise I felt at his words. It was hurt too. I felt like we’d been through a lot together at this point, so why wouldn’t he feel closer to me than this?
“If you’d rather I stay away, and not try to befriend you, I can do that, Mike. I… I live a rather lonely existence here, and it’s been nice to have you around, but I don’t want to overstep any boundaries you might have.”
Mike reached out and caught my arm, but his words weren’t what I expected at all.
“My name’s not Mike.”
Micro
HowcouldIkeeplying to her, when she was putting every piece of herself right out there for me? I didn’t mean that she was hitting on me, but she clearly wanted and needed a friend, and wasn’t that the least I could do? Didn’t I enjoy her company, even though I kept trying to keep her at arm’s length, because I didn’t want her to become collateral damage, when my life inevitably imploded, and killed me.
“It isn’t? I suppose you were out of it the day you told me that.” If anything, she looked intrigued, rather than worried, or hurt, or angry at me. Maybe she saw me as some kind of project to occupy her time. Fix the broken man, and kill some time doing it.
“I was struggling to speak that day. Hell, I could barely fucking breathe, or move. My real name is… is Lowell, and-”
“Wait, that doesn’t sound remotely like Mike? How could you have accidentally said Mike, when you meant Lowell?” Okay, now she looked suspicious. Was it time to tell her my real identity? Was it time to admit to my brutal birthright, and risk her turning on me? Could I survive without her right now? Was it selfish, to balance the need to be honest with her, against how much I needed her right now?
“Jesus, I won’t tell you everything about me, because it’s not stuff you need to know, or stuff that’ll benefit either of us. Fuck… you’ve heard of motorcycle clubs, right?”
Her face relaxed a little, and she nodded, smiling softly.
“Of course. I’ve known MC members before.” Shit, what if she knew the club I’d hidden away from, after trying to fucking destroy it? I didn’t even know exactly where we were right now. She had a large farm-type property, with outbuildings, and I had no idea if it was near where I’d lived, or a hundred miles away. Her accent didn’t differ too much from mine, so it was highly possible she might know them.
“Which club?”
She laughed then. “Not yours. I’ve never even heard of the Godless Warriors.” Those two words were like a fucking gut punch, and I physically recoiled, realising too late that I’d just intrigued her again.
She had a fucking quick mind, just like that asshole Has-Been. I’d always had to watch myself around him, because he saw more than anyone, just because his brain seemed to operate on another fucking level. I mean, clearly she’d also looked at my ink for longer than I’d realised, while she was treating me, so thank fuck I hadn’t kept the Phoenix ink. I’d covered that shit up the first chance I had, because it didn’t belong on my damn skin.
“Are you okay?”
I lifted a hand, and she raised her eyebrows, waiting for me to speak, but what the fuck should I say at this point?
“I need to know what club you’re familiar with, so I know if it’s safe to tell you more. Sounds like you might know how the clubs run, and there’s often bad blood between them.”
Sophie smiled again, sipping at her tea.
“Of course, that makes sense. I know the Rogue Riders, here in Hampshire.” Rogue Riders,Jesus. They weren’t exactly good guys, but then most clubs had bad elements, and it just so happened that I was that element in Phoenix MC, right?
“How the hell do you know them?” I couldn’t help asking, because no decent woman should be affiliated with those assholes. While they weren’t like my dad, they were nasty enough pieces of work. I’d briefly been affiliated with a club they fucking decimated, for control of their drug trade, and I’d missed dying with them, only because I’d been scoping out Phoenix at the time.
“I uh… I went to school with a few of the members, that’s all. So where are the Godless Warriors based?” Jesus fuck, I wished she’d stop saying their name. It felt wrong on her lips, because the club were definitely not friends of women.
“Can you uh… can you not mention their name again? I’m… the club was killed off, so I’m kinda…”
