Page 97 of Reacher
Reacher pulled a face. “He will. Eventually.”
Reacher
IwishIdidn’tknowwhat he was doing down here, but the fact that wouldn’t leave my fucking mind was that I knew exactly what he was doing. I can still remember the first time he did it, and we all gagged, and some guys even threw up. He’s got a taste for it now, probably goes further each time. That Raoul bastard was definitely paying for his crimes. If he thought the beating he got from Stitch and me was the worst of it, he knew now that it was a fucking blessing.
“Reacher?”
“Yeah, woman?”
Ally stared at me from the bottom of the stairs.
“Uh… can you… can I walk in front of you?”
I blinked. “Jesus. Yeah, of course. That’s exactly where you should be. I don’t want to touch you while I’m covered in his filthy blood, but I won’t let you fall.” Dickhead. It was time to get my head back out of my ass, and focus on this fucking goddess of a woman.
I ushered her back up to our room, and sat her on the bed, without touching her, because I was covered in the bastard’s blood.
“I’ll get this crap off me, woman. I’m not letting it touch you.”
I headed for the bathroom, stripping off and tossing my t-shirt into the bin, keeping the jeans, which were mostly blood free. They went in the laundry bin. Jesus. What a fucking mess he’d be by now.
I stepped under the shower, sighing with relief at the sensation of hot water hitting my chilled skin, like it could wash away the filth of that bastard, and the memory of that entire session in the basement.
The bastard had started out mouthy and cocky, and sure he was getting out alive. He didn’t realise that only one person has EVER left that room alive, and right now she’s in my fucking bed. I didn’t want his blood near her. It was bad enough that it was all over me, but she deserved to stay clear of his taint, and she would be now. Forever. Because he’d never survive what Torch was doing down there. Ugh. My stomach roiled at the thought of what was happening down there right now.
“Reacher?”
I opened my eyes to see Ally sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, watching me shower. Hell… her eyes on me was actually just what I fucking needed. Like I could feel every sweep of her gaze, a tangible sensation that wiped away some of the horror of the day.
“You okay, woman?”
She shrugged. “Are you? You’ve been in here for ages.” I hadn’t realised. I’d been lost in thought.
“I’ll wash up and be right out.” She nodded, but didn’t move. “You staying to watch?”
I saw a small grin in response.
“Hell yeah.”
With her fucking eyes on me, I rushed through the process of getting clean, trying to ignore my dick, which wanted to join in with anything involving that woman, even though she really wasn’t up to it yet.
I wrapped a towel around my waist, and let her lead me to the bedroom, where she insisted on sitting beside me, and tending to my bleeding knuckles. The sting of the antiseptic wipes was something I welcomed, because it kept me in the moment,rather than letting me dwell on the abomination taking place in the basement. I felt awful for the poor prospects, who’d have to clean up after Torch.
“You made a real mess of your hands,” Ally was muttering, as she carefully cleaned up the cuts, and dried them gently. We couldn’t really bandage them without putting my hands out of commission, but they’d stop bleeding soon enough.
“He deserved every fucking blow, woman. Nobody hurts you and gets away with it. You get that, I mean, by now, you do fucking get that, right?”
She nodded, swallowing hard.
“I just don’t want you overdoing it.”
“I’m not overdoing anything. I’m not an invalid, just because I had a… what did they call it? ‘Event’, yeah, fucking lame word for it. I was just under excessive stress. I mean, you’re not going to cause me any more stress, are you?”
She giggled, and that was exactly what I fucking needed.
“Just don’t leave me, Reacher. I can’t handle it if I’m not with you.”
Jesus. That was like a punch in the gut. I grabbed her face and pulled it to mine, scowling at her.
