“I do,” he said and meant it in every sense of the word. There had never been anyone else worthier of his trust than the four men who’d taken him in when everyone else had deserted him.
Tank swallowed, averting his gaze. “And I trust you to not lose your cool. But to make sure we can find you even if they somehow outsmart us, we need to put this inside you,” he said, and picked up a small glass container. There was a tiny piece of electronics inside.
Clover gave a nervous laugh, even though amusement was not on the list of things he was feeling. “Where? In my prison wallet?”
Drake grabbed his jaw with a scowl. “This isn’t a joke, Clover. It will go in your back.”
Clover’s mouth dried when he took in the oval shape the size of a fingernail. “But it’s so big.” His breath hitched when he looked at the scalpel again. “You want to put it under my skin?”
Drake sighed and sat on the side of the bed. “It’s like pet microchips. Larger but you’re also larger than a cat or dog. It won’t be so bad.”
Clover couldn’t get his mind around the process, even though the guys wouldn’t lie to him about this. It couldn’t be some kind of excruciating pain, and that was not what frightened him most. It was having it inside him forever that gave him pause. Then again, if he really hated the idea of having a tracking device implanted in him, he’d have it removed in the future.
“Do I get a drink?” he asked.
Tank scowled. “You’ll bleed more.”
“You’ll be fine. We’ve got this to numb the area,” Drake added, pointing at a small syringe.
So at least they didn’t want him to hurt. That was nice. Real chivalrous.
Clover shifted with discomfort. “Do Pyro and Boar know?”
“They do, but there’s no point to make such a big deal out of this. It just needs to be done,” Tank said.
Clover nodded, but wasn’t thrilled about the upcoming procedure, so he didn’t say another word.
Drake bit his lip and shifted closer, until he sat on the bed next to him. “We can’t lose you.”
Clover expected to hear a similar declaration from Tank, but there was only silence. Tank’s features were stiff when he looked up. “If this doesn’t work, Drake, I’m going to string you up.”
Drake didn’t answer, so Tank went on after a couple of seconds of silence. “I can’t take losing any more people. Not when they’re in my care.”
Clover’s breath caught when Drake pulled on the robe, uncovering Clover’s shoulders. “There was someone else in your group?”
Drake remained silent, which left Tank to speak. He rubbed his face, and this time it was devoid of the usual determination.
He looked sad. Resigned.
Clover wanted to hug him but didn’t dare to stop him from saying what needed to be expressed. Tank pulled on a pair of latex gloves and gestured for Clover to face away from him.
Clover’s stomach turned with worry, but Drake guided him into his lap. It was such a relief that Clover ended up hugging him. He wished he could melt into his body and never have to face the pain of the scalpel nor the person who wanted to own him, as if he were an antique Chinese vase.
Gloved fingers were dry, their touch smooth and dull on his skin, but Clover remained still as Tank rubbed the side of his shoulder blade with alcohol. He tried to calm down by breathing in Drake’s scent very slowly, but the prick of the needle still made him stiffen.
Tank rubbed Clover’s flesh when it started going numb as if someone had pressed on that spot for far too long. “It was before we met Boar and Pyro. Drake and I worked as protection for a certain individual. Raul was employed for the same purpose, and we quickly hit it off. Great guy. Open-minded, bright, big personality. The kind you always want around when bad shit happens.
“But he was also young and relatively inexperienced. A big risk-taker, and he’d sometimes end up with unnecessary injuries. I tried to have his back, even though he insisted he didn’t need backup. Six months into the job, we were all friends. On a night off, I acted as his wingman, because he really wanted to hook up with this pretty girl at a bar.”
“She was a honeypot,” Drake said out of nowhere, his jaws clenched so tightly his speech resembled a hiss. “Tank lost them because it wasn’t like he wanted to listen to straight sex, but she must have had backup.”
Tank exhaled. “I’m going to cut now.”
It was almost as if he were talking about the topic at hand, not Clover’s skin.
Clover shut his eyes, trying to convince himself that this couldn’t possibly hurt, but the odd sensation of something getting through his skin was still terrifying, even if not painful. Tank worked fast, his speech remaining steady despite the difficult topic. He must have thought back to this many times.