Page 9 of Ryder
“Oh hell… the blonde?”
I lifted my head, suddenly remembering something those flashes had revealed that we didn’t know before.
“Uh… no, actually. She’s a redhead.”
They exchanged a look. “Uh… everyone who saw you leave with her insists she was blonde.”
“You spoke to the others?”
“They got back just after you left. It made sense to sort it while you rested,” Stitch said, leaning back in the seat he’d chosen.
“I wanted to be there,” I pointed out, and they both just stared at me.
“And you needed to fucking rest.” I guess that’s why we don’t argue with the Club Pres.
My burger appeared then, along with coffee, and then the prospect was off making more coffee for the other two.
“Don’t just make eyes at it. Eat,” Reacher muttered at me, while I wondered if I could stomach even a single mouthful.
“Boys confirmed you guys went to Butch’s bar. We’ve got them going back there when it opens, to quiz the bartender. Ice is already busy hacking all the cameras in the area.”
I grabbed the burger and took a huge bite, my stomach instantly gurgling in response. In a good way. Like it was sayingsend me some fucking food right now. I devoured the damn thing in mere minutes.
Tommy had returned with more coffees, and retreated again.
“Keep hold of him. Kid can cook,” I said with a grin, reaching for my coffee. I felt a little better than I had when I woke.
“So… your flashbacks,” Reacher prompted.
A shudder ran through me, as I saw them again in my mind. They were so disjointed and unnerving, dizzying almost.
“Can’t really see anything for sure. Flashes of red hair, the same lipstick colour I… uh…”
“What lipstick?” Stitch was frowning, and I took a deep breath.
“There was plum lipstick on my cock. She obviously went down on me.”
They just stared back at me, so I continued rather than endure more awkward silence.
“I… uh… I remembered feeling nails clawing at my chest.”
“Yeah… not surprised you remember that. Bitch drew blood,” Stitch muttered, checking his phone, like he couldn’t just look me in the eye.
“The important thing is, I’m remembering. By tomorrow, I’ll probably remember everything.”
Stitch cursed under his breath.
“That’s not how this shit works. Those flashbacks? They’re probably all you’ll get. All you’ll see. You’ll likely never remember anything more than that.”
I sat up, my stomach clenching. “Bullshit. I’m already remembering shit.”
He cleared his throat. “Look… my cousin was… her drink was spiked back in college. She still doesn’t remember that night, and it was nearly eight years ago. All we know, allanyoneknows… is that she left a bar with her friends, and woke up in a ditch, raped, beaten, and with no fucking memory. And honestly, I hope it never comes back. She’s had to move on, and try to live her life. If it came back now, it’d destroy her.”
Jesus fuck. I closed my eyes, resting my head on the back of the sofa.
“Perfect. Here I am, bitching about a lost night, and a possible fuck I can’t remember, and you tell me that. I’m such an asshole. This isn’t the same thing. I’m not hurt. I’m not suffering. I’m… I got laid. So what? I do that often.”
Stitch was shaking his head. “Don’t belittle it. You didn’t choose what happened. Any way you look at it, it’s not cool. So when we find the bitch, we’ll make sure she pays for it.”
