Page 16 of Givin' Me Fitz!
“Kid, tell me why you were there. Did this guy do something to you that we didn’t know about? What the fuck is going on? Let me help you.”
“Look, Bones, the guy wasn’t a john, and I wasn’t tricking. I can’t tell you what I was doing there. If you need to fire me, do it. I’m not being disrespectful because you’ve been good to me. The club has been good to me. I don’t want to leave, but I can’t tell you what I was doing there. I owe a debt, and I’ll pay it. Someone else will pay the price if word gets out about what happened.”
“Tell me who that guy was to you and who would pay the price. You have the full force of the club behind you, TJ. We can keep someone safe if you’ve been threatened. You gotta let us know what’s going on.”
The kid looked at me, his big blue eyes shining with tears. “I wish I could, but if I do, they’ll hurt someone I care about.”
That statement alone was enough. “TJ, do you not think we can protect you or anyone you love?”
I saw the pain on his face before it morphed into stubbornness. “Thanks, Bones. Am I staying or going?”
“You’re staying. Call me if you wanna talk or when you’re ready to explain what happened to me. You’re not alone, TJ. Make sure you go to the health check tomorrow so you can get back to work on Tuesday.”
He nodded and went into his private bathroom, closing the door. I stood and let myself out, having no more information than now than when I’d stepped on the porch. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He said he wasn’t tricking when he was there. That was a relief.
I started my pickup truck and hit Bluetooth. “Call the clubhouse.”
The phone was answered right away. “Yeah, Prez.”
“T-Roy, I need a favor. Can you get one of the prospects to come to the East Adkisson house to watch out for TJ Middleton? Something is up with him that he’s not ready to talk about yet. I just want him safe.”
“You got it, Prez. He won’t know I’m anywhere in the vicinity.”
Troy Turnbill was the sergeant-at-arms of the Cowboys and a great guy. His parents had been killed in cold blood by the Scorpions. T-Roy was a good friend of mine, and I knew he was still struggling with the loss of his parents. If he wanted to babysit TJ, then I wouldn’t question it. He was a caretaker at heart, just as his parents had been.
I wanted to help Troy find some peace about what happened to his parents, and I had the feeling TJ might be able to help. First, I had to get TJ to come clean about what the hell was going on with him.
At seven thirty, the back parking lot at The Bootlegger was full, but I saw Fitz’s new truck was already there. I parked nearby and quickly walked to the door, stopping to check my look in the glass before going inside.
I’d pulled out a dress shirt that I only wore on special occasions and a pair of new jeans that I was yet to wear. I had a nice pair of boots that I’d cleaned up, and my long hair was in a ponytail on the top with the rest of it loose around my shoulders.
I’d trimmed up my beard and mustache and even got rid of a few stray hairs between my eyebrows, in my ears, and up my nose. I wasn’t one who did a lot of manscaping, but I’d taken extra care to be sure I didn’t look like a Neanderthal.
I walked into the restaurant and approached the host stand. “I have an eight o’clock reservation for two. Under Abbott.”
The young woman picked up a tablet and pecked into it. “The other member of your party is at the bar. Would you like to be seated immediately or closer to eight?”
“Let’s keep the original reservation. I’ll join my friend in the bar.” She nodded and swept her hand toward the hall to the large U-shaped bar.
I walked around to the far end where Fitz was sitting in a bar chair that wasn’t in front of a video poker machine. The stool next to him was empty, so I sat.
Fitz was watching something on television, but when I sat next to him, he began speaking. “I’m sorry. That seat—” He tore his eyes away from the television and grinned. “It’s you.”
“You beat me here.”
Fitz grinned. “I packed up my stuff at the hotel. I’ll be moving in tomorrow if that’s okay. Did you bring the lease?”
“No. Like I said earlier today, I just want to get to know you and not worry about business. We’ll get it signed, no worries. I moved Aunt Janice’s furniture inside for you to use until you get some stuff of your own. There’s a mattress place a couple of miles from the house that’s open on Sundays.” I put my hands in my lap to keep Fitz from seeing them shake.
I was fucking nervous. I didn’t date, as a rule. Too much hassle.
When I met Fitz, I quickly figured out he expected more than a quick fuck. The dinner invitation flew out of my mouth before the blood from my dick recirculated to my brain.
“What can I get you to drink?” The bartender tossed down a napkin.
“I’ll have an IPA.” I turned to Fitz. “Want another?” He was drinking a draft beer, too.
“Yeah, the same, thanks.” Fitz was tearing off little pieces of his napkin and balling them between his index finger and his thumb dropping them on the bar top. Was he as nervous as me?
