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Nodding to a few patrons as I enter, I walk over to the bar and take a seat, sighing. Signaling to the bartender, Tim, I request a glass of whatever they have on tap. He’s been working here for the last few years and always makes sure to ask about the family. He sets the glass in front of me. We chat for a bit before he has to take care of other patrons.
I glance around the dimly lit bar, rock music coming from the small speakers in the walls. Almost of its own accord, my foot starts tapping out the beat on the bottom of the bar. Smiling at how relaxed I feel, I take a sip from my glass and slowly scan the room.
It isn’t too long before I spot a stranger sitting at the end of the bar.
Now, I don’t know everyone in town. But I feel comfortable in saying I know almost all the regulars that frequent Brimmers. Newcomers tend to stick out.
When Tim walks up to give me another beer, I nod in the man’s direction. “What’s his deal?”
“Not sure. He hasn’t said much. Been sitting there quietly for the last hour or so, only asking for a beer and some pretzels.”
Humming, I nod as Tim walks away.
I’m a sucker for someone in need. Always have been. Jenny will say I’m a magnet for strays. Hell, half the guys I’ve brought into the club since I became president were down on their luck, looking for a place to belong.
And I gave them just that. Stability. A family.
This man definitely looks like he needs help. Shoulders hunched, head down, face drawn… He looks like he’s on the verge of giving up.
Grabbing my half-empty glass, I walk toward the man. Sitting on the barstool beside him, I wait until he glances my way before saying anything.
I start the conversation simply. How great the beer selection is, how the restaurant down the street serves the best burgers, and if he ever needs any work done on his car or truck, there’s no place better to go than Jack’s.
I can tell he’s a little annoyed by my presence. That slowly melts away as I begin talking about personal things. Jenny, my kids, some of the antics the boys in the club have gotten into. After a while, I get him talking, answering some questions. He doesn’t go into detail, but it’s a start.
As I finish my beer, I stand, glancing around the bar before looking back at the man. His steel blue eyes still look a little guarded, yet meet mine without flinching.
“You planning on being in town for a while?” I ask.
He shrugs, glancing down at his beer before looking back at me. “Probably a day or two.”
“Wanna meet up tomorrow? I could take you around, introduce you to some people. You know, just in case you decide to stick around longer.”
He seems unsure. I can practically see him calculating the pros and cons. Just when I think he’s going to decline, he nods sharply. “Yeah, sure. It might be cool to meet some people.”
“Then I’ll meet you here tomorrow around two. Sound good?”
“Works for me.”
“Good.” I hold out my hand. “Name’s Maverick.”
“Tristan,” he responds, shaking my hand. “Tristan Knight.”
“Well, Knight, it’s nice meeting you. See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. See you then.”
As I leave, I glance back and see him sitting there, staring at his beer, body relaxing slightly. He’s in trouble, and whatever the trouble is has him spooked.
Sometimes a person just needs a lifeline. Someone to give them an option to take another path.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to help him. Hell, I’m not even sure he’s ready to accept help. He’s so damn guarded, having built a concrete wall around himself.
But he’s agreed to meet up, and that’s a start.
It’ll be up to him if he wants to stick around, wants to stop running from whatever is chasing him. A lot of the guys in the club were running from one thing or another, each bringing their own problems.
He may be in trouble, may be getting dogged by something that could rear its ugly head at any point, but it’s not something any of us would shy away from.
