Chapter 93: A Patch Here And There

Damien Mike shook my hand, gripping it tightly with his old, military-style grip. Mike wasn’t as young as he seemed despite how well he managed to twist his words to sound like a disgruntled frat boy. He was at least in his late 40s, with a buzz cut, a strong jaw, and a scar on his eyebrow. His features made him look rather harsh, but as soon as he opened his mouth, his soft voice gave off the impression that he wasn’t all that tough. Mike always used both his intimidating features and his soft voice to his advantage, working his way out of the military and into business, eventually taking over his space as a managing consultant for tech companies, including one of mine—the main one that served as my headquarters at the moment. “It’s good to see you,” he said, letting go of my hand and patting me on the shoulder. He put a little too much force into the pat, letting me know that he wasn’t entirely happy with me or, in fact, the present situation. If I were any 30 to 50 pounds lighter