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By the time we arrived at Reed’s place, I had my head on straight enough that I could appreciate the impressive layout hidden behind what amounted to a goddamn forest. The security was state-of-the-art, unobtrusive enough that you couldn’t see it if you weren’t looking for it. We parked behind a steel fence that was at least ten feet tall with concrete woven through the grates. I followed Stitch up to a large industrial looking building. “Is this it?”
A laugh sounded a few feet away and I looked up to see who I guessed was Reed. He looked like a hippie with shoulder length brown hair and tons of gray around the edges. Worn jeans and a Traveling Wilburys’ t-shirt covered his lanky frame and he topped the outfit off with a pair of Birkenstocks. “She’s not much to look at but no, this isn’t it.” He held out his hand and wore a friendly smile. “Reed Henderson.”
“Gunnar. Nice to meet ya.”
He greeted Stitch with a handshake and a half-hug before guiding us on a tour of his operation. It included three different buildings for everything from cultivating flowers to production and storage. “Now this is it,” he said with a proud smile I could appreciate. “What do you think?”
Both Stitch and Reed turned to me expectantly and I could admit the truth. “I think this is damn impressive, Reed.” He ran a tight ship, taking every precaution necessary for the highest quality products and I respected the hell out of that. The dude was an old school hippie with a genius level IQ and a clear passion for weed. It was clear to see how he and Stitch had connected.
His smile grew bigger as he shoved hair from his face and smacked his hands together. “The only thing left to do is have a little toke.”
“Or a big toke,” Stitch added to what was clearly an inside joke.
Reed guided us along a path about a quarter-mile away from the buildings where a small creek bubbled between rocks. He sat down onto the grass and crossed his legs like some hippie yoga guru. Then he pulled out a vaporizer and a small glass pipe. “The vape will let you taste it pure but Stitch here is a heathen and prefers to torch the bud.”
“Well I’d prefer a bong but I’m guessing it doesn’t go with your sandals?” Stitch accepted the glass pipe with one hand and dug for a lighter with another.
I had to wait for the vaporizer to heat up which felt wrong and pretentious to me but when I took the first hit, I could admit, “This is damn good shit, man.” Reed looked pleased but after that, I kind of zoned out, listening to the old friends catch up on life while I enjoyed my high.
“How’s your girl?”
At Reed’s question, Stitch shrugged. “Marisol is good but something is going on with her.” I wasn’t looking at Stitch but I could hear the worry in his voice, which probably would have made me worry if I hadn’t been so stoned because when it came to chicks, the Reckless Bastards turned into Captain Save-A-Ho.
The silence, though momentary, was pensive before Reed spoke. “Be careful, Chris. She is a nice girl but she comes with shit you really don’t want.”
I heard the warning in Reed’s words and he’d also used Stitch’s given name, Chris. So I sat up. “What kind of shit?”
“Personal ones,” the kid bit out with more force than I’d ever heard him use. It didn’t make me feel any better about whoever this Marisol chick was.
“Right.” If he thought I was done digging, then he was a bigger fool than I thought. I’d find the fucking answers before we got back to Mayhem.
“I’ll leave you guys to enjoy the high. Find me before you go and I’ll send you back with some bud.” With the agility and speed of a man a decade younger, Reed got to his feet and whistled as he walked away.
Stitch was tense, bracing himself for the lecture he was so certain was coming. But I wasn’t in the mood for a sermon. “Don’t worry man, I’m saving my speeches for when Maisie is a teenage hellraiser.”
“But?”
“But it never hurts to be careful in this life.”
“You think I should steer clear of Marisol?”
I wanted to say hell yeah I thought so, but that would only send him running in her direction even faster. “That’s not what I’m saying Stitch, but it’s clear you don’t know her. If you want her, find out her dark secrets before they bite you—and us—in the ass.”
“So you’re worried about yourself?”
I nodded because there was no fucking point in lying. “Me and the little girl under my care. Not to mention all the other women and kids.” I stood so we were face to face, a few feet apart so he could hear me. Really hear me. “I never realized how fucking worrisome it was to be a parent Stitch, and if I had, maybe I would have had a better understanding of all the stress Cross has on his shoulders. It’s something we all have to think about. But more importantly, if she needs help, you need to know so you can take it to Cross.”
“She ain’t my girl though, Gunnar. She’s just a chick I spend some time with when I’m in the area.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Since I doubt you told Reed what a good lay she is, I call bullshit.”
Stitch let out a sigh and raked a hand through his long dark hair. “Do you mind if we make another quick stop?”
“Nah, let’s go.”
Reed loaded us up with product but it wasn’t necessary. His shit was damn good and he had a professional operation that would make Cross happy. As soon as we got back, I’d give him my thoughts.
Thankfully when we got to Marisol’s place, she wasn’t at home.
