Page 43 of Reacher
“Have you eaten?”
I shrugged. I’m sure I did at some point, but I couldn’t remember when. Oh… yeah… I was supposed to eat with Alicia, and then I found out she fucked me, and not in a good way.
“Fuck’s sake. I’m gonna get some food sent up, and then you’re gonna talk to me. And when you’re more in control of yourself, and only then, I’ll take you down to interrogate our prisoner. You don’t want the others seeing you like this, right?”
Jesus. I sighed, because he was right, of course he fucking was. Everyone else was allowed to have their shit go wrong, and to let it all out, but not me. I’m their fucking President. They looked to me for advice, and support, and every other damn thing. So I had to pretend that my shit was always in hand, even though it was anything but.
Stitch patted my shoulder. “I’m gonna make more coffee. Go have a shower, and get your head straight.”
Fucker was right, and I wanted to punch him for that too. Instead, I went for a shower.
Twelve
Whenallelsefails,crime is the only option. Faced with nowhere to live, and one bag of measly crap to take with me, because my suitcases were either locked in that apartment, or at the clubhouse, I had to take drastic measures.
I walked the length of the high street, stopping in at the local chemist, because I needed something for my hand. It was swelling from a badly misplaced punch to a man’s face. I had a little cash, and unfortunately, I understood my priorities.
I waited in the queue to see the server, and when it was my turn, I showed her my hand.
“Can I get some anti inflammatories, and painkillers, please?”
She frowned, staring at my swollen fingers.
“What happened? Are you sure they’re not broken?”
I shrugged, feigning a nonchalance I definitely wasn’t feeling.
“I hit something, and I didn’t get it right. They still bend, but they hurt a lot.”
She insisted on calling the pharmacist over to take a look, and he gently assessed my fingers, agreeing that they weren’t broken,but that I needed two kinds of meds and a damn ice pack. I dug into my small amount of money to pay for them, and then I had to find somewhere to live. Even for one night.
Down from the high street was a small business, signposted as a vacant lot, showing that it was available for rent. I peered in the windows, which were scrubbed over with that white stuff they used to try and make such a thing impossible. It looked like it had been an office, or a surgery of some kind, and the large room I was looking at might have been a waiting room. It was devoid of furniture, of course.
I had to wait down the road for an hour, until it was dark enough, and then I sneaked back, finding my way around the side of the place, and forcing a window open. No alarms sounded, so I took a risk that I would get away with it, and climbed in, after tossing my bag inside. It was as basic as hell, but there was a bathroom, with a toilet and sink, and the water wasn’t switched off, so that was something.
The electricity was also working, but I couldn’t risk having lights on, so I found a small room at the back of the place, which I was now thinking might have been a dentist’s office, and used the meagre belongings I had to try and pad the hard floor, so I could sleep. It was dark, it wasn’t too cold, thankfully, because it was still summer, but it was lonely, and a little scary.
I thought I’d hit rock bottom before, but I’d found a new low. A lower low. The lowest low. I had no idea what I’d do when I woke, because I had nothing. No money, no home, no belongings, no family, no way to support my mother’s care. No Reacher. No anything.
The lack of Reacher was the part that really hurt, because we’d been building something. We’d been making real progress, and I’d been so sure that my future would include him, and the club. I’d have had family at last. A place. Hope. And now I’d lost it all.
The tears started then, and I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t hold them back any longer. I curled up on my few clothes, on that cold hard floor, and sobbed until I fell asleep, where my dreams were filled with pain and sorrow, and loss. When I woke, crying again, I turned and looked for Reacher, before I remembered where I was.
“My god.” I sat up against the wall, and grabbed my phone, which was on silent. I prayed that there would be a missed call or a message from him. Anything.
Instead, I found several messages from Tori, and a missed call from her.
Tori:Are you okay? Ryder said you left.
Tori:Where are you? I can help.
Tori:Dammit Alicia, you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m so sorry I fucked everything up for you. Please, whether you hate me or not, contact me, so I know you’re okay.
Tori:I put money in your account. I still had the details from before. It’ll keep you going for a while. I’m so sorry I ruined things for you.
I used my app on my phone to check my bank account. There was a deposit of two thousand pounds from Tori’s account. Jesus. A light at the end of the tunnel. Most of it would have to go to the care facility, but at least I’d know my mother’s care was sorted for another couple of months.
Me:Thank you. I really want to say I don’t need it, and you didn’t have to, but I’m out of options.Thank you for making sure I can keep up with mother’s bills.
