Page 29 of Micro
“There’s stuff I’ve never told anyone, and her; that’s one of them. There’s something else, and I don’t want you to know, because I want you to see me as a man, and that… and if you know…fuck… I’m not great with words, babe. I’m not good at much but beating the shit out of assholes, and technology, I’m good with that stuff. Better than that fucker, Ice, anyway. Him and Grease thought they were the shit, but they had no idea what I was capable of.”
“These are people from the club your father ran?”
I’d jumped ahead, hadn’t I? What a prick. I ran a hand through my hair, actually enjoying it longer than it had ever been. I’d always kept it short or buzzcut, because of my father’s comments, but now it could be any length I wanted it to be.
“Here’s the thing, babe, my dad, that club, they were the worst of the worst, only I didn’t see it that way as a kid. I thought it was me being too weak to measure up to that shit, so I took every beating, and took every drug, and I did what I was told, and I let him turn me into a fucking carbon copy asshole. And then, while my back was turned, off undercover with another club, someone cleaned out the Warriors, and built a new club right in its fucking ashes. Huh… that’s why they called the club that. Who knew.”
“You’re talking about Phoenix MC? Reaper mentioned them before you killed him. He said they’re going to attack them, Micro. You should warn them.” Yeah, I really should. Tell me how though, when I’ll die before I even get to speak.
Eighteen
Icouldsenseanurgency about Micro, could tell that he really wanted to warn them, or say something to keep them safe, but something held him back, and I had a feeling it was about the acts he said he’d committed, the actions Reaper had alluded to.
He paced a little, turning at last to show me his upper arm, pointing at the blacked out space that spanned most of his bicep, and wrapped around it.
“I don’t understand.”
“I covered up their ink. I didn’t want their fucking usurping bullshit club name on me. I had to keep my arm covered after that, so nobody would see it, but the one on my chest? Before that day, I had to keep covering it with makeup like some fucking wuss, because seeing that would have told them I was a threat, and I didn’t want them to know until it was too late.”
I stood up, moving closer to him, even though he backed up a few steps.
“You want to make amends, right? This is what you were saying before, that you couldn’t do that, but what if you can?”
He pulled at his hair, practically growling with frustration.
“Of course I fucking do. I loved some of those guys. They were brothers to me. Brothers I fucking attacked, a brother I fucking stabbed, and left for dead. There’s no way they’d let me talk, and even if they did, they wouldn’t believe a word I said.” Stabbed? My god! Still, the priority was to keep them safe, then he could tell me the rest of the horrors he’d committed.
“How about your sister?” I prompted and he groaned.
“There’s no way Ice would let me fucking call her again. He’ll be watching for that.”
“I meant, do you really want to risk her being harmed while you stand here like a lemon?” Damn, I wasn’t pulling punches, but I needed to get through to him.
“Fuck, babe.”
I pointed in the direction of his bedroom. “Can you do it anonymously?” His eyes widened.
“Fuck me. I could do that, and maybe he’d think it’s that mafia bastard they thought I didn’t hear about. Sneaking him in as a fucking brother.”
He headed for his room, a new energy in his movements. He sat down and pulled his laptop over from the side of the bed, and I sat beside him.
“You don’t have to stay, Soph. This could take a while.” I waved him off. I felt like I needed to be here with him, even though there was a word playing on me, a word Reaper mentioned, something that Micro hadn’t addressed yet.
He opened up some kind of app, and pulled information back and forth, making it look like he was hacking something, rather than making a call. Two things happened though. He suddenly had a box on his screen, showing a guy wearing a biker cut, with buzzcut hair, fussing away at a computer, and a box appeared that Micro typed in.
Unknown:Got a heads up for you, man. Serious shit coming your way. Big man isn’t in the know yet.
I frowned as he sent that message. “Big man?”
“Mafia boss. It’ll make him think I’m Grease, and he’ll trust him.” Weird. I had no idea who any of the people he mentioned were, but we watched the guy on the screen as he read the message and groaned, dragging a hand down his face before he leaned forward, and his fingers flew across his keyboard.
Ice:Still cleaning up after the last prick took a dump on us. What have you got?
Micro groaned and flipped off the video screen several times.
“Cunt.”
He typed his next message, while muttering under his breath about jumped up pricks who need to shut the fuck up.
