Helpless (Steel Demons MC #5) - Crystal Ash Page 0,32
T-Bone picked up. "Some kind of trade, skill, or service they can offer. The governor isn't picky about what that is, as long as it serves the community in a non-harmful way."
"What about people with physical disabilities, who can't do manual labor?" I piped up. "What about girls running away from those camps that brainwash them? Don't tell me the governor turns these people away."
T-Bone looked at me with an endearing smile. "There are many more job opportunities here than just physical labor. Someone could tutor or babysit children. They need cooks, cleaners, servers, couriers, all kinds of jobs. If someone has no discernible skills, they're sent to the library to enroll in courses and assess what their strengths are. If they're interested in a trade, but have no experience, they can become an apprentice. Everyone is given an opportunity to succeed here."
I listened with rapt attention as he explained, trying to keep my excitement in check. This place seemed to have all the markings of a good, fair community being built from the ground up.
"You're really selling this place hard, despite not living here." Reaper did not sound as optimistic.
"Ah, you know how it is, Pres!" T-Bone laughed. "Guys like us can't be contained by a quiet, normal life. We need adventure and freedom. And sometimes, we like to play more than work."
"We probably will be staying here for the foreseeable future, though," Dyno chimed in. "Until we start doing some rebuilding ourselves."
The humor drained out of T-Bone's face, sadness and guilt replacing it. Losing his club and someone he loved weighed heavily on him. He reminded me of Reaper in that sense.
Dyno stroked an affectionate hand up his sergeant’s back and T-Bone leaned into him, winding his fingers almost absently into the other man's ponytail. Their affection was brief and, on the surface, hardly more intimate than two brothers or friends. If I didn’t have my gut feeling, and T-Bone hadn’t explicitly told me he liked men, I never would have assumed anything about the touch.
Gradually, the hill we climbed flattened out to a grassy field. Two long rows of soldiers in desert camouflage uniforms marched to our left, their faces solemn as their drill sergeant shouted orders.
“Vance’s general is highly organized,” T-Bone commented, noticing our gawking. “We’ll probably meet him later. Four Corners is a target for other governors looking to increase their wealth and infrastructure, so General Bray is tough on his militia to defend the borders. But the soldiers are compensated well and have support systems in place, so morale remains high.”
“They’ll need the absolute best army they can put together,” Gunner said next to me. “I guaran-fuckin’-tee you General Tash has already set his sights on this place. He has the two biggest territories bordering to the east.”
T-Bone’s shoulders went rigid at the mention of General Tash’s name. “You may want to sit in on some meetings between Vance and Bray, Youngblood.”
“Highly doubtful,” Gunner retorted. “I’m just a road pirate looking for a place to lay my head down at night.”
“Um, did you forget about right here?” Jandro reached over and groped my breast that was closest to Gunner.
“Get your mitts off me.” I slapped his hand away. “We’re about to meet a governor.”
“I didn’t, but you’re always hogging ‘em,” my blond demon laughed. “I’m more of an ass man when it comes to pillows though.”
“I’m done with you two,” I huffed, breaking away from between them and walking up to squeeze between Reaper and T-Bone.
“Oh, you want to walk with the adults now?” my smirking president chuckled, drawing me into his side with an arm around my shoulders.
“It’s been a long couple of days,” I sighed, leaning my head on him.
I was not in the mood for my men being overgrown children. Gunner and Jandro’s playful antics didn’t normally bother me, but on top of being sore, dusty, and exhausted, we were about to meet a powerful man. Governor Vance would decide whether we stayed here for the time being or hit the road again early tomorrow morning.
“I know, sugar.” Reaper brushed a kiss along my forehead. “This really couldn’t have waited, huh?” The question was directed at T-Bone.
“If y’all were some small-fry club of nobodies? Maybe,” he grinned. “But everyone here has seen, or at least heard of, those patches on your cuts. Vance probably already knows you’re here, and the longer you stay without any clarity on whether you’re friend or foe will make the citizens uneasy.”