Page 77 of Reacher
“You tried to fucking sell us out to the cops. The only reason you’re alive is because I wanted the privilege of fucking you up personally.” His words sent the expected shiver of terror down my spine. He wasn’t just saying it for the sake of it.He’d follow through on every word.
He pointed to the bed with a sharp jab of his index finger.
“Sit the fuck down on the bed, and think about how you’re gonna make this up to me, because if you fail, and I’ll fuck you until you bleed.”
Reacher
Icouldhearsomeonespeaking,but it took me a few moments to pick up the words, and recognise the voice.It was Stitch.
“I’m here, brother. Just wake up, please.”
It took me a while to realise that he wasn’t trying to wake me from sleep in my bed at the clubhouse. There was a rapid beeping sound in the room, and that’s when I realised that I was in a hospital.
Jesus. I forced my eyes open, and brightness nearly blinded me.
“Oh thank fuck. Oh god, Reacher, you asshole. I can’t believe you fucking did this.”
It was harder to focus on Stitch’s face than normal, but when I finally did, I saw that he was freaked. Upset. We were alone, but I was definitely in a hospital bed with tubes and shit in my arm.What the fuck.I looked around me.
“What…” My throat was sore, and dry. I swallowed and tried again. “What… happened?”
He glared at me, gripping my un-tube-laden hand in both of his.
“You fucking collapsed on me, you fucker. I was going out of my mind. I thought you were dead!”
I blinked, trying to sort through my memories. All I had was a vague recollection of being in pain.
“I… what?”
“You collapsed. Out of the blue. Clutching your fucking chest. I thought you were having a heart attack!”
I shifted on the bed, and felt pain erupt across my chest again. Oh Jesus, I remembered now.
“Jesus. Did I?”
He shook his head, looking as exhausted as I felt.
“Not as such, no. The doctor said you had a severe stress reaction. Apparently a firm warning that you’re halfway to a fucking heart attack, if you don’t minimise your stress.”
Well, chance would be a fine fucking thing, wouldn’t it?
“Wish I could… Ice?”
He lifted a hand waving it from side to side.
“He’s a little more with it now. I mean, you’ve been out for about five hours.”
What the…ALLY!
“Jesus. Ally.”
I tried to move, and Stitch put a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t fucking move. You keeled over, brother, and you’re not going anywhere.”
I had to save her, surely to fuck he could see that. I tried sitting up again, and he shoved me back, trying to hold me down.
“Jesus, calm down. Your heart is racing again.”
