“You could give me whatever number you’re using now. You know I won’t give it to them… or her.”
Somehow I trusted that, but I needed time to think on it. This was literally the only way they’d be able to track me, if they even cared enough to try. It had always been part of my secret bailout kit. That’s why it was a few years old, and a piss poor replacement for my old phone.
“Can I… give me a few days, man. I’ll reach out on this number again, and maybe… maybe I can do that. I’m just uh…” I watched Nixie stretch in my lap, her tongue curling as she yawned wideand rolled onto her side. “I want to trust you, because I feel like I can, but I’ve just had my world implode on me, and I need time.”
“You can. You will always be able to trust me, brother. Stay safe, yeah? Hug Nixie for me.”
V
Aweek went bywithout Rocket, so eventually I had to leave his room, and do things like work, and collect things from Auntie Pam’s place, but mostly I just kept retreating back into Rocket’s room, which was slowly becoming my room. I had clothes here now, and that meant I’d dragged in a small drawer unit to keep them in. I was making use of the mini fridge that had been a more recent addition by him, and I was even getting used to showering here. It was pretty gross, but the men who stayed here kept away from me, mostly because they probably blamed me for Rocket leaving.
Someone tapped on our door, and I got up to open it. One of the prospects was standing there, that look of distaste on his face. I think his name was Joey, but there was one called Joe too, I think, so I guess I didn’t care enough to be sure.
“What?”
His lip curled at me. “Pres wants to see you.”
“And?”
His glare intensified. “And you’re supposed to go to his fucking office. You shouldn’t even fucking be here.”
I pulled the door closed, and locked it, with him backing away like he feared he’d catch something if we touched.
“I’m Rocket’s so I’m here until he returns. You want to fuck off now?”
He flipped me off. “Bitch. You don’t give me orders. Wish you’d fucking take a hint though.”
“Chris, get back on the gate!” Someone yelled at him. Oh. Chris. That wasn't even close to Joey.
I walked to the lounge building, ignoring the random stares or glares I received from the few men loitering around, and stepped inside. Nobody was using the lounge, and I eyed the small fridge, considering grabbing a beer to take with me.
“V, in here.” I turned at Micro’s voice, and he was holding his door open. Okay, I can take a hint. I had a feeling they wanted me out, but I just couldn’t go. I’d had to change the sheets, which hurt, because I removed the ones Rocket had slept on, but I’d kept his pillow in the same pillowcase, because I just couldn’t lose that part of him too.
I stepped into the office, and watched Micro close the door.
“I don’t report to you, you know. You have no right to summon me to your office.”
He gestured to the seat, and I dropped into it as he mirrored my action behind his desk.
“This is a club. I’m the President. And you appear to be living here. At my club.” He shrugged. “So do the math.”
I could feel my inner teenager emerging, as I folded my arms and glared at him.
“Whatever you want, hell no.”
He groaned, getting up and pouring two coffees, sliding one over to me. They all knew by now that I like my coffee black. That’s what happens when you spend a week wallowing in misery around a bunch of men who really don’t want you here. They notice stuff.
“V, I’m not trying to be an asshole here, but… we need the room empty.”
I slammed the mug down and flipped both middle fingers at him.
“You can get fucked! That’s his room. You’re not giving it to someone else!” I was pretty much moved in there. Didn’t I get squatter’s rights or something at this point? I decided I’d ask Grease to check with his woman, the former cop. I’d met her a few times, but he was still pretty hostile to me, so he’d probably tell me to get fucked. For a club that Rocket thought didn’t care about him, they sure were protective of him.
Micro circled his hands around his mug, his expression grim as he stared back at me.
“The last thing we’re even considering is replacing him, V. We want him back, but you can’t stay in his room indefinitely. We need it empty. You’re the last person staying here.”
What?
