Page 35 of Micro
What the fuck was going on? I tried to find out more, but the phone I had was shit for research, and I needed answers now. There was an old guy propping up the bar, so I moved onto the stool beside him.
“Hey, man. You a local?” He eyed me up and down with disinterest.
“Yup.”
“I was looking for the biker club around here?”
He nodded, jerking a thumb behind him. “Phoenix MC, can’t miss ‘em. Nice guys too, not that we expected much after the last lot.” Last lot? As in my dad and his club? Where the fuck had they gone?
“What last lot?” I felt sick, like everything had changed while my back was turned, and I was adrift,lost.
“Those fucking Godless Warrior assholes. Good riddance to the lot of them.” Fuck! What did that mean? I wrapped my hands around my beer, so I wouldn’t start beating on him for more info.
“Yeah? Where’d they go then?” Tell me something important, you useless fuck, or I’ll fucking lose my shit.
The old guy leaned close, lowering his voice.
“Word is, and I heard this from a fella down at the caff, the new guys cleaned house. Killed off the leaders of the old club, and rebuilt right on top of it. Couldn’t have happened to more deserving assholes if you ask me. Plenty around here would have willingly pissed on the old bastard president’s corpse.”
What the fuck? I felt like I couldn’t breathe, as a wave of horror and grief washed over me. They’d killed the president, aka my fucking father? How the hell did his happen? The Warriors were fucking deadly, trust me, I was more than aware after growing up there. How the hell was it all gone? How was he gone? Why didn’t I know? How had I not heard about this?
“When… uh… when was that?”
The old guy shrugged. “A year, longer, I dunno. Cops’d know, since the crime levels dropped with those wasters gone.” Don’t kill him, don’t kill him. Get out clean. Find somewhere to hole up. Regroup. I had to research the fuck out of this, and find who did this. If it took me the next ten fucking years, nobody would survive killing him.
Ahandslappedmycheek, none to gently, and it shook me awake with a jarring shock.
“Aw, he’s waking up at last,” a familiar voice said snidely. Who the fuck was that? It didn’t sound like Crusher, but then I was barely conscious, and the pain in my shoulder had roared to life again.
The blindfold was whipped away from my face, and I blinked into the dim light, which still felt too bright at first. The cold, dank space suddenly looked all too familiar, and I lifted my head, to see a face I never thought I’d see in person again.
“Welcome home, fuckhead. What is it they say?This time it’s personal.” Torch’s fist slammed into my face, and the chair tipped back, knocking my head against the concrete with a dull thud, and a resounding wave of pain. Darkness washed over me again, and I passed out.
Sophie
Iwokeupina dimly lit room, with a strange man leaning over me, wearing a leather cut, and a wary look on his face. I gasped, trying to move away from this stranger, and he lifted his hands.
“It’s okay, love. You’re safe now, I promise. I’m Doc, with Phoenix MC, and you’re in our infirmary.” He lifted his head and spoke to someone out of my eyeline.
“Get Reacher and Lissa, kid. Let them know our guest is awake.” My eyes darted around, seeing a young guy with ‘Prospect’ on his back, disappearing through the door and closing it. The rest of the room looked like a small infirmary, like he’d said, with three other beds in it like the one I was on, and shelves of medical equipment. My head throbbed and spun with the effort of looking around, and I groaned as my stomach churned.
“You’re concussed, love, but it’ll pass. You slept on and off for the last few hours, but you probably don’t remember me waking you now and then, to check on you.” I tried to think back, but he was right. I didn’t remember a damn thing. The one thing I couldn’t see, and desperately wanted to, was Micro. Had they found him? Had they hurt him? Was he safe? I knew he’d had bad blood with this club, so I thought I shouldn’t mention his name, but I needed to know.
“What happened? Did they stop the Rogues? Is… is my boyfriend safe?” Doc’s face dropped, and he turned with relief when the door opened, and in stepped a huge, bearded man, and a petite redheaded woman.
“Pres, just in time. Our lovely guest has questions I don’t have the answers to. She needs to stay on bedrest for now, while she heals from the concussion. There’s also a sprain to her wrist that seems to be healing, but looks like someone grabbed and twisted her arm. I’ve got ice on it for now, and she needs pain relief. Let me do that, and then I’ll leave you in peace.”
“Gotcha.” The bearded guy and the woman waited until Doc left the room, after handing me some pills and water to wash them down with. I really hoped they started working soon.
“Hello, Sophie, do you remember me from the video call? I’m Reacher, President of this club, and this is Lissa, wife and old lady of Ice, the man you chatted to first on the call. She’s also our resident therapist.” They had a doctor and a therapist? That wasn’t like any biker club I’d heard of before.
“I… I remember you, but I don’t remember what happened after the call,” I said timidly, chewing on my lip, as I looked from his grizzled face to the pristine beauty of the woman beside him. Her lips lifted into a soft smile, and for a moment, she looked familiar, like I knew that smile. It was her, wasn’t it? Micro’s sister. It had to be. I held back that realisation, because while I thought she might listen and not judge, I had a feeling Reacher wouldn’t.
“Let’s pull up a chair and update you then. Is it okay if we both stay?” He asked before he moved, and I nodded, so surprised by his gentle nature, and apparent kindness.
They seated themselves on opposite sides of the bed, but I didn’t feel trapped or penned in. I felt safe, and that was an odd experience for me, especially around strangers.
“Tell me, please. You had bikers on the way already, didn’t you?” Reacher nodded, lifting four fingers.
