Page 17 of Stag

“I was just stopping by to check she’s okay, and-”

“Wait, so you’re actually seeing someone-”

“Let him talk, Rocket, dammit.”

“Define seeing,” I said finally, and Micro cursed, in fact, I think Harley did too at the exact same moment, and would everyone just stop fucking twinning right now? I’ve got enough twins to worry about.

“Stalking? Brother, this shit’s gotta stop! No wonder you got your ass kicked. Some girl’s dad or something? Jesus, she’s of age, right?”

Micro jabbed Rocket in the chest to shut him up, but that look on his face had gone from fatherly to kinda scary.

“Details, Stag. Leave nothing out.”

Fuck me. I’m dead. I dragged a bloody hand through that fucking gritty shit in my hair. Fucking Marco. I’d kill him next time. He suckerpunched me, that’s what it was.

“Fine. I checked out her place, like I always do on my way home. All was quiet, but there was some fucker skulking around down the road, so I thought I’d check it out and… Jesus. Long story short, that fucker was a Bennett enforcer, and I’m now apparently working for them.”

“FUCK’S SAKE!” Micro yelled, getting up from the bench with his hands fisting his hair.

“It’s like you just don’t think, dammit! Those fuckers have been trying to get us under their thumb for weeks, months even, and I had it sorted. I had it all fucking settled. Just a fucking hen night to provide security for, and now what, you’re getting us in deeper?”

They all stared at me and I sighed, slumping in the chair.

“I dunno. Whatever.”

“WHATEVER?”

Harley rested a calming hand on Micro’s shoulder, and crouched down in front of me.

“We need more details than this. You’re all beaten up, they did that?”

“Marco. The big fucker who dates that scary chick.”

“For what?”

This wasn’t going to go well, so why hold anything back.

“I witnessed them beating on some guy, got caught, and somehow I asked for a job. This,” I gestured to the mess my face probably was, “was my interview, audition, whatever.”

Harley stood back up and he and Micro disappeared off into the workshop area, while Rocket just watched me, tapping his fingers on the bench beside him.

“Just say it, whatever it is. I know I’m done. Those assholes want me to spy on the club, and I’m not fucking doing it.”

He frowned. “Why didn’t you tell them that part? What you just said makes it sound like you’re risking the club, but you’re not. I mean, you’re not, right?”

I groaned, resting my head in my hands, while my elbows dug viciously into my bruised knees. How the fuck were they… oh right, I hit the ground at various fucking angles.

“I’m a fucking disaster. I can’t do anything right. I can’t even watch over a woman and keep her safe without fucking everything up.”

“What woman? Talk to me, brother,” he said softly, moving over to the chair beside me.

“The one from the rock club. The one I got hit for talking to. I can’t get her out of my fucking head, it’s like she burrowed in, and all I see is her eyes, and those lips, and fuck… I just want her. I want her so much, but she’s…”

“What?”

“She’s deaf, man.”

He smirked suddenly. “That actually sounds like a good thing. You stand a better chance of not fucking up if she can’t hear what comes out of that mouth.”