Ink and Iron

Pascoe

Arriving at the cafe, my eyes scan the area, searching for any sign of Pascoe. It doesn't take long before I spot him-a middle-aged man with a weathered face and a warm smile. Despite the lines etched around his eyes, there's a kindness in his gaze that puts me at ease.

Pascoe's smile lines crinkle as he catches sight of me, and he raises a hand in greeting. "Chris," he calls out, his voice carrying easily across the distance between us.

I return his smile with a nod, making my way over to where he sits. As I draw closer, I take in the sight of him-the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the slight greying at his temples.

"Good to see you," Pascoe says as I approach, his tone warm and welcoming. "I've been looking forward to our chat." I can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about why he wanted to meet. It's been some time since we last crossed paths.

Pascoe begins, his tone serious yet tinged with concern. "I've been hearing some things lately, and I wanted to talk to you about them."

I raise an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue. "What kind of things?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.

Pascoe leans forward, his expression grave. "There are rumors going around that you've joined the Vipers," he says, his voice low. "And frankly, I'm worried about you."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next. "Pascoe, I had no choice," I confess, my voice tinged with frustration. "Marco has dirt on me even from before. And right now he's the one with control over police department."

Pascoe's expression softens, a look of understanding flickering in his eyes. "I see," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "But you have to be careful, Chris. After what he's done, getting involved with them again could put you in even more danger."

I nod, acknowledging the truth in his words. "I know," I reply, my tone heavy with resignation. "But for now, I have to play along. I can't risk Marco using his leverage against me."

Our conversation pauses briefly as the waitress arrives to take our orders, providing a temporary reprieve from the weighty topics at hand. Once she departs, Pascoe's gaze returns to me, his eyes intent as he poses his question. "Why does Marco need you now?"

"Because of my connections I got trough you," I reply, my tone measured. "Marco knows that I have access to information and resources that he can't obtain on his own. Even though they made name for themselves most of the people that actually matter are still not keen on supporting them."

Pascoe nods in understanding, his expression thoughtful. "That makes sense," he agrees, his voice tinged with concern. "If things with Marco get complicated again, don't hesitate to call me. I'll be there."

His offer hangs in the air between us, a beacon of hope in the murky depths of our uncertain future. I nod, gratitude swelling within me for his unwavering support.

"Thank you, Pascoe," I reply, sincerity lacing my words. "I appreciate that more than you know."

He nods in understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that binds us together in this dangerous world. "Just remember," he says, his tone firm. "You're not alone in this. I've got your back."

As our conversation reaches a momentary pause, the waitress returns with our orders, interrupting our discussion once again. We exchange a brief smile of gratitude as she sets down the plates before us, then retreats back into the bustling atmosphere of the cafe.

Once she's out of earshot, Pascoe turns back to me, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Chris," he begins, his tone gentle. "When are you coming over for dinner? Diane misses you."