Page 85 of Reacher
I tried sitting up then, and winced at the reminder of my injury.
“I need to see him.”
Stitch groaned, waving his hands at me to try and stop me moving.
“Jesus. You two are as bad as each other. Can I catch a break for five fucking minutes? I’ve been awake for thirty six fucking hours.” He dropped heavily into the seat beside me, and he looked exhausted. Beyond stressed. On the edge, even.
“Are you okay?”
He leaned back and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wake himself up, I think.
“Let’s see… One brother was in a fucking coma, my President in a fucking cardiac ward, and his old lady stabbed by the cartel.Who, by the way, are a bunch of psychotic assholes, and may still try coming after us.”
I grinned suddenly, despite everything, because he sounded so melodramatic, even though he had plenty of reason to be exhausted. It wasn’t the right reaction, but relief was practically singing through every nerve ending in my body.Reacher was alive.
“I’m sorry, Stitch. Been a hell of a day, has it?”
He shot me a glare. “No shit.”
I pointed at my stomach.
“I got stabbed, remember. I think that trumps your day.” He barked out a laugh, but even that sounded exhausted.
“You should get some rest, Stitch. Can you tell Reacher I miss him though? No…wait… tell him an old man like him should be avoiding too much excitement.” He’d appreciate that, I knew it. He’d know it came from me, because who else would say something like that to him?
He laughed again as he stood up.
“Believe me when I say there’sno way in hellI’m telling him that.”
Reacher
Shewasalive.Ijust had to keep telling myself that, and absorbing the fact, and reminding myself that my inability to get out of this fucking bed, and be at her side, wouldn’t change that. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done, because I should be right beside her.
Now that my strength was starting to return, I was really fucking tempted to find her room and bed in with her, because she needed me beside her.Stabbed. She was fucking stabbed, and where was I? On my back. In a fucking bed.
“Jesus. You should be sleeping.” Stitch looked dead on his feet.
“Go home and rest, brother. Nobody touches that bastard until I’m there.”
He nodded, gesturing behind him.
“Micro and Has-Been are here, watching over Ally and Ice. Ryder is gonna be watching your back for you.”
“Jesus, Ryder? Really?”
Stitch sighed heavily, like he was fed up with just about fucking everything at this point.
“He’s a good man, and you damn well know it, Reacher. He’s made mistakes, but haven’t we all? He’d die to protect you, just like any one of us.”
I held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch, I know. I just… I want to be with my fucking old lady.”
He nodded, propping himself up against the doorframe.
“She’s awake, and she’ll recover. The worst part was that she thought you were dead, for some reason.”
“What the fuck?”
“She was in bits. Seems that bastard Raoul must have known you’d been taken ill. Either that or it was just a lucky fucking guess. Either way, she was… brother, she fucking loves you. When you’re both better, just fucking make the most of that, yeah? Any way you can. Life is too damn short to be apart from someone who loves you that much.”
