Page 66 of Reacher
“How much do you owe?”
And there’s the question she clearly didn’t want to have to answer. She picked up the bottle of bourbon and poured herself another glass, dragging out the moment, and avoiding our eyes for a moment.
“Ally, Jesus, how much?”
She drank the contents of the glass, turning to face us, her eyes dropping to the floor.
“Thirty thousand pounds.” What the fuck!
Twenty-One
Theywerestunned,andI knew this because they were both silent, staring at me with their mouths open.
“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking how does one mumsy-looking woman manage to get into that kind of debt, but remember who I was dealing with. I was gambling and losing, and every time I gained a foothold, I lost big again. Before I knew it, I owed them about fourteen thousand, and then they added interest, and you know… it spiralled from there. There was no way I could pay back that kind of money. The care centre bills were crippling me, so I figured if I could win big, I could make a real dent in those, and cover them for a while. Maybe even a year. But I forgot the most obvious thing of all.The house always wins.”
Stitch rubbed his beard. “What… uh… what kind of gambling? Cards?”
I nodded. “I’m a hell of a poker player. You wouldn’t guess that, because my poker face is clearly on the fritz, but trust me, I’m good, but it only takes one big loss, and they own you. I’mgood, but I’m not the best there is. I was outplayed. Outclassed. Then I couldn’t get back out again.”
“So they offered you a chance to traffic drugs for them.”
I snorted.Offered. Yeah, they sat me down with tea and biscuits and said; ‘hey love, we want to make life easier for you’.
“They don’t offer, Stitch. They threatened me. They told me it was my only option. They forced me into it, or… or…” I couldn’t say it.
Reacher lifted the glass from my hand and set it aside, his fingers gentle as they stroked my hair out of my eyes.
“Or what, woman?”
I swallowed hard, a shudder of revulsion rippling down my spine.
“Or they’d make me work it off.”
“FUCKERS!”
Reacher practically crushed me against his chest, turning us so he could face Stitch.
“I don’t care what deal we offer, brother. The overall plan is to kill them all. I want every last one of them dead. I want blood for this. I want their blood.” I shuddered in his hold. He sounded cold, and bitter, and… cruel. It wasn’t a side of him I’d wanted to see.
“Reacher…”
“Brother, don’t even try. This is about an eye for an eye. They tried to kill our brother. They tried to sell off my old lady’s pussy, so this is it. This is why they die. It’s my divine fucking right to avenge my old lady.”
Another scary statement. I had to diffuse things somehow, and that’s how the dumbest question left my lips just then.
“Why do they call you Reacher?”
Both men fell silent, and I just knew they were staring at me. I pulled free of Reacher’s hold, and tilted my head up to look athim. His forehead was creased, like he didn’t understand what I’d asked.
“It’s a road name, right? Because your real name is Jacob Anderson.”
Reacher
Whataquestiontoask right now. I was firmly in retribution mode, and she comes out with that. I’m trying to fucking avenge her, and she’s asking about my name?
I sighed. “It’s a boring story, woman. It just happened, okay?”
She turned to look at Stitch.
