Page 79 of Reacher
“I don’t believe you. There’s no way you’ve taken the fight to him, and taken him out, not without a serious fight with his entire club. You’re lying.”
His face was way too smug, and I wanted to slap that look from his asshole face, but terror was freezing me in place again. Not Reacher, please.
“Nah, slut… I didn’t say we took him out. Seems you did that for us.”
What? He wasn’t making sense.
“I don’t… get away from me. You’re lying. You’re trying to destroy me, but it won’t work. Reacher is out there, and he’ll find me. He’ll save me, but he’ll be too late, because I’ll already have saved myself. You think I need a man to save me? You’re dumber than you look, asshole.” Another slap. It made my ear start to ring, and my cheek was burning with pain.
“He keeled over, you dumb cunt. Guess you picked a dud this time. He couldn’t even manage to live long enough to try and save you.” My god… no… My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest, the heavy thuds almost painful. No. My blood seemed to chill in my veins. I shouldn’t have left the fucking waiting room. I caused this. I killed him. He was right, I killed Reacher.
With a scream of pure rage and despair, I lashed out at Raoul, punching, kicking, and clawing at him. From the pained grunts I heard now and then, I knew some of my blows landed, and I was rewarded with one of his brutal fists, hitting my cheek.
It stunned me for a moment, and that was how he gained the upper hand. He was blurry, my eyes unable to focus. No wait. That was because of the tears. Not tears for him. Not even tears for my situation, and the futility of my struggles. The tears were for Reacher. The man I loved. The man I lost. The man I didn’t want to live without.
Raoul’s hands locked around my throat, and I let mine drop to the mattress. I had no desire to fight him, to fight for my survival, because he was right. I hadnothingto live for. Nobody. Reacher was dead. How was I supposed to live on without him?
“Come on, bitch. Where’s that fighting spirit? You know I like it when you fight me.” He was leaning close, watching my face as the lack of air started to send a surge of panic through me. Despite myself, I clawed at his hands, because that terror that washes over you, when you can feel yourself suffocating…it’s impossible not to fight. It’s impossible to lay there, and let someone choke you to death, as much as I wanted it.
“Raoul. Boss wants you.” I was dimly aware of someone else in the room, but I couldn’t see anything. Everything was darkening, as my body started to give in, consciousness fading from me.
“Kinda fucking busy here,” I heard him mutter, as I passed out at last and knew nothing more.
Reacher
Itwasn’tright.Ifelt beyond fucking useless, stuck in this hospital bed, while my family, my brothers tried to savemywoman, and why was that? Because my fucking body wasn’t up to it. My fucking heart nearly shit its pants, and died on me.
The questions from the doc when he visited me were laughable, they really were. Had I been under extra stress lately? Gee, let me think for a minute.
Was there anything going on that was causing me sleepless nights, and missed meals, and making me worry? Well, there’s my brother Ice, who’s in intensive care, after someone tried to kill him. There’s Ryder, and his fucked up old lady, using illegal, and untested, substances, just to get their fucking rocks off. Oh… and somehow we’re now tied to the mafia. I mean, take your pick.
That was bad enough. All of that was enough for one Club President, but now my lady was out there, captured by a fucking drug cartel. Was it any wonder that it had been the last straw? And the irony of the situation was that being stuck here, laidup and hooked up to these fucking machines, while she was out there? That was making things worse.
I was more stressed than ever, because I needed to be searching for her. Hunting down the bastards who’d taken her. Rescuing her fine ass from the bad guys, and if I tried that, Stitch would hunt my ass down, and put me in the fucking ground himself. None of that would get me any closer to saving her.
And the real frustration of it all was that I felt half dead. My body was heavy, and drained, and I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to get out of bed without help. How pathetic had I become? How pathetic was the man she thought could protect her?
“Reacher, we have something.” Stitch hurried into my cubicle, followed by Torch.
“Thank fuck for that.” I tried sitting up, but my arms wouldn’t bear my weight, and I felt mortified by that fact, as they both watched me for a few seconds.
“Jesus, man. You nearly had a fucking heart attack today. Use the controls.” Stitch used the buttons on the bed to adjust the angle, sitting me up further.
“I feel so fucking useless.”
Torch rolled his eyes. “You’ve been taking on everything everyone gets themselves into. It’s no wonder it hit you. You gotta take better care of yourself, Pres. We need you. Uh… I mean, no offence, Stitch.”
Stitch shrugged, leaning against the wall.
“Found their hideout, innit. We’re going in, and we’re taking no fucking prisoners.”
I felt my spirits lifting a little, even though I hated being side-lined for the entire fucking operation. The main thing had to be saving Ally, because I needed her back, safe by my side.
Torch rubbed his shaved head, hiding the dark lines of his tattooed skull.
“I mean, I feel like we should keep a few alive, for the Pres to get out all his aggression on.”
I raised my eyebrows, looking from him to Stitch.
