Page 1 of Reacher
One
Aslammeddoorwasmyresponse from Alicia. Jesus Christ. When wasn’t it? That woman would be the death of me, but over the few weeks I’d known her, I’d figured out a few things.
Firstly, she had a temper. A serious temper. I’d been slapped, I’d been called all the names under the sun, and every door in this damn place had been slammed by her at least once.
Secondly, and more importantly, she was afraid of something,and it wasn’t me. She just wouldn’t tell me what the fuck it was. So the constant flip outs and the yelling were, I was pretty sure, caused by whatever the hell was scaring her. She could have left the clubhouse, with Ryder and Tori’s shit all sorted, but she was still here, and it told me a lot more than she was willing to.
Thirdly, and most vital of all… I fucking wanted her, like I’d never wanted a woman before. It wasn’t about getting my dick wet, or even just about physical attraction to a woman… it was about so much more. It was the way it felt to come back to myroom, after whatever crap my day had brought me, to find her there. Even if she wasn’t speaking to me, it was still an amazing feeling to come home to her, and I didn’t want that to end. When she wasn’t freaking out, she was fun, and easy to talk to. Highly intelligent. Sarcastic as hell. Everything I fucking love in a woman.
So, as I stared at the door she’d just slammed yet again, I wondered what the fuck her problem was, and why I was just taking this shit, instead of sitting her down and demanding an answer from her. Wouldn’t I do that with any of my damn club members?
“Reacher?” Stitch poked his head around my door, which made me realise that I’d heard several attempts at knocking, and hadn’t responded.
“What’s up, brother?”
He glanced around my quarters, which were slightly bigger than his, and the ones the others stayed in, if they chose to stay at the clubhouse. It was always impeccably tidy too, or at least it had been,until Alicia.
“Jesus.” He looked at the disarray all around me. To the untrained eye, it probably looked fairly neat still, but for someone who knew me, and knew I needed absolute control over my environment, it would be shocking.
“Yeah, I know. Someone had a hissy fit again.”
He snorted. “Reacher, I gotta ask… is this actually gonna work?”
Good question from my VP, but I had no fucking clue what the answer was. I shrugged, grabbing the magazines that Alicia had tossed, straightening them up in a pile. I’d brought her shit to read, and she went off at me for it. I seemed to get so much more wrong than I did right.
“See, I hate bringing you a problem, when you’re clearly dealing with shit, but… it’s Ice.”
I stopped tidying, and turned to frown at him. What had the dumb asshat done now?
“What is?”
Stitch refolded the throw from the sofa, and draped it over the back the way I liked it.
“He’s, uh… I can’t find him.” Huh. I frowned at Stitch.
“He doesn’t go offsite much. Is his bike gone?”
Stitch nodded. “Also he’s not answering my calls. I’d say we could track his phone, but of course we need him for that shit, don’t we?”
Stitch was all about making good points today. Ice being the one off the grid kinda fucked us in more ways than I cared to admit.
“Maybe we need to get him to teach another member how to do that shit. We shouldn’t be putting everything on that boy’s shoulders as it is.”
Stitch grabbed our two used coffee mugs, and took them to the kitchen, rinsing them in the sink.
“Yeah, you’re right. So we’ll find him, kick his ass, and then get him to teach… I don’t know… who?”
Shit. I shrugged again. “Let me think on that one, brother. In the meantime, did you happen to pass a certain blonde on your way here?”
Stitch laughed. “Yeah. So what the hell did you do this time? She had a face like thunder.”
I groaned, wondering why I’d stopped keeping scotch in my room.
“Yeah, I think I might not have been listening or some shit, and not for the first time.”
“Cardinal sin that one, brother.”
“Tell me about it. How is it that I’m a fucking nagged husband, and I’m not even married?”
