Page 80 of Ryder
She was furious. Her fists clenched, although she was obviously still exhausted, and weak from her near death experience.
“Calm down, darlin’. You’re recovering. You need to rest up. You can kick my ass tomorrow, okay?”
She turned her face away from me, studiously ignoring me, but I’ve had worse. I don’t care.
I grabbed my phone and pinged a text to Reacher, so he knew I’d made my claim. The next time any brothers were in the room with her, they’d know that she was definitely mine now, and touching her was a risk they definitely shouldn’t take.
She was sleeping by the time Reacher poked his head in the door, and nodded at me to join him.
“Yeah?”
We pulled the door closed, but we stayed right there, because no way was I letting her try to make a break for it now.
“This is for real, yeah? You’re claiming her? You don’t just get to change your mind later, if you get bored. Your old lady is for life, brother.”
I glared at him, my arms already folded, making my defensive posture even more so.
“Does it look like I made this decision lightly?”
He just watched me, like he was waiting for me to say something specific.
“She’s mine, Reacher. I’m fucking claiming her, whether she likes it or not.”
He cleared his throat, rubbing at those piercings above his eye.
“Look… I’m not one to judge, or try to tell you what’s right, but, Ryder… hasn’t she been forced into enough by others? If she doesn’t want this-”
“She doesn’t know what she wants right now, Pres. She’s messed up from what that bastard did to her, and she’s pretty pissed at me, but that doesn’t change what was there before this all happened.”
“You mean when she forced you into sex without your consent, or fucking awareness?”
I shrugged. “Call it what you like. My dick only gets hard for her now, so what’s the point in fighting it?”
He’d started pacing. “That’s probably some kind of shit that a shrink could help you fix. Just because your dick is confused, doesn’t mean you need to go making a lifelong fucking claim.”
I wanted to punch him. How could the arrogant, self-righteous bastard stand there and spout that shit at me, when he’d pretty much claimed her little partner in crime, mid-fucking-interrogation.
“Shall we talk about picking inappropriate women as our fucking old ladies, Pres? I’ve got some thoughts on picking an accomplice that we’re fucking interrogating.”
His fist closed around my throat, and he slammed me back against the wall.
“This isn’t about me, fuckhead. This is about you, picking someone you should have turned over to the fucking law. She killed someone, or are you just gonna keep romanticising that shit away, just so you can get your dick wet?”
I lost it. I shoved him back, but I didn’t do it with my hands. I lunged forward, and smashed my forehead into his face, probably crushing his nose, before I tried to follow it up with my fists.
Someone stepped between us, holding me back.
“Okay, I’m breaking this up now. You guys need to wind it in.” Stitch had appeared from out of fucking nowhere, and kept a hand on my chest, and turned to look at Reacher.
“There’s a lot of emotional shit going on right now. Can we please try to remember that we’re fucking family here?” Reacher nodded, reaching up to check his nose, his hand coming back bloody.
“Prick.”
I shrugged. “You badmouth my old lady, that’s what you get.”
“You were badmouthing mine, asshole.”
“So sheisyour old lady. Thanks for the heads up.”
