Page 113 of Reacher
“She thinks it’s something then?”
He nodded, rubbing a hand over his face.
“I feel like I’m gonna be sick.”
I grabbed his shoulders. “Look at me. Just don’t throw up on me, yeah?” I got a twitch of a grin for my trouble.
“You’re gonna be fine. This is all just a scare, and nothing more. You’ll get the scans and shit, and they’ll say it’s nothing, but Stitch, even if it’s something, it’s not like all hope is gone. Okay? I’m with you, through all of this.”
He nodded, taking another breath.
“Gonna want a fucking drink now. Not at the clubhouse though.”
I glanced at our bikes. He couldn’t ride once he’d had a drink, but there was a pub near the clubhouse.
“We ride back, and then go for a drink at Eddie’s, yeah? We can walk back.”
He nodded again, taking another breath, and reaching for his helmet.
“Time to fucking man up, and act like the badass I thought I was.” He was on his bike and starting her up, before I could even argue.
Forty
WhenReacherreturned,itwas hours later, and he looked depressed. There was no other word for it. He had one of the prospects deliver a meal for us, and then he sat on the bed with me, and picked at it, while he hid away in his thoughts, rather than talking to me.
“Reacher? It’s bad, isn’t it?”
He blinked, finally looking at me.
“Yeah. I think it is. They’re booking scans and a biopsy for him. He’s… he’s fucking scared, and who wouldn’t be? This isn’t something we can beat up on, or murder in the basement. Hell… I don’t know what to do, Ally.”
This is one of those moments where a biker relies on his old lady, I’m almost certain of it.
“Reacher? Will you snap the fuck out of it?”
He stared at me, dropping his fork onto his half full plate.
“Seriously?”
I tried a half smile. “I thought it might help. You know like when I’m upset, and you decide that fucking my mouth will distract me.”
He snorted, reaching over to cup my cheek.
“Don’t ever fucking change, you hear me? Keep sassing me and pushing me, and Jesus… mocking me. All of it. It keeps me out of my head.”
I grinned at him. “I’m pretty sure I can manage to do that, Reacher. I mean, you’re kinda easy to wind up, old man.”
He stared at me, the intensity in his eyes practically burning me.
“I’m gonna help Stitch with this, and then I’m fucking marrying you, Ally. I don’t even care anymore if anyone opposes things. I’m gonna marry you, and then I’m gonna make you my fucking old lady.”
Then he frowned. “No. Old lady first. Actually, yeah… Fuck everyone here. Stitch is on our side, and that’s all we need. We’re gonna fucking do this. Today. We’re fucking doing it today.”
I grabbed his hand as he tried to shove up from the bed.
“Reacher. Stop.”
“What?”
