Page 74 of Stitch
“Jesus, you can’t fucking make out up here. That whole edge is gonna crumble, you dickhead.” I glared at Ice, but I didn’t resist when they dragged us away from the edge and to safety. I was covered in that stupid brown dust from the cliff edge, and sowas Camille, but we were both alive.
“You stupid son of a bitch. What the fuck were you thinking?” A fist caught the side of my face, and I staggered back a step before I caught myself. I opened my mouth to defend my actions, but someone else got there first.
“Don’t touch him!” Camille shoved Reacher back, putting herself between us, and I couldn’t fight the proud smile stretching across my face as I watched my wife fronting at my Club President.
“You scared the fuck out of me!” He yelled, completely ignoring her. I noticed Alicia wasn’t with them, nor Tori. It was my brothers, Lissa, and my wife. My fucking wife.
Reacher was rubbing at his chest, and taking deep breaths, and I suddenly realised what I could have caused with my reckless actions. I stepped past Camille, and grabbed his arm.
“Brother, you good?” His response was a middle finger.
“Just give me a… minute, dickhead. You have any idea… how far we just ran?”
Thank fuck for that. If I’d caused his heart to give out, I’d never have forgiven myself. The only club members who knew about his recent cardiac incident were the ones with me right now, and they all looked as worried as I felt.
“Need us to get you a wheelchair, old man?” Ice offered a smirk, but it didn’t mask his concern even for a second.
The flying middle finger waved at all of us.
“Shut… it…”
We started making our way back down the gravelly road to the camper, and when we reached it, we sat Reacher down inside, despite his growling and slapping at our hands.
Lissa grabbed some water for Reacher, and passed it to him.
“Stitch, we’re going to talk about this, in detail, but for now, we need to get back.” Lissa looked firmly at me, and then turned to Ice, murmuring something quietly to him.
Ryder headed back out to the three bikes parked up. Wait. Three bikes and five people. That meant my fucking wife rode on the back of a brother’s bike. What. The. Fuck.
“Who had my wife on their bike? Which one of you fuckers had her arms around you?” My fists clenched as I glared at Reacher and Ice, fully prepared togo out and beat Ryder down, if it had been him.
“Reacher brought me with him, and if you want to blame anyone for that, blame the asshole who ran off in our damn honeymoon home!”
I loved her fire. That fucking fiery goddess of mine.
Cammy
Once Reacher had caughthis breath again, the bikers took off, Lissa wrapped around Ice on his bike, and we were left alone in the messy mobile home. An awkward silence fell, and then Stitch broke it, by insisting we get cleaned up after our little cliff diving episode. He literally joked about it, like it wasn’t the most terrifying experience of my life.
I reached up to slap him, and he caught my wrist, his intense eyes gazing deeply into mine.
“I’m so sorry, Camille. Jesus, I nearly took you down with me.”
I pulled my wrist free, and pointed at the bathroom.
“You clean up first, then we’ll talk.” I needed a minute to gather my thoughts before we had the conversation that we both knew was coming. It wasn’t just about the risk he’d taken. It was about the conclusions he’d jumped to. That territorial behaviour whenever his brothers were near me, although truthfully that was also kinda sexy.
It was time to put our cards on the table, and stop holding back on what we were thinking. I hoped there would still be an ‘us’ after this.
He didn’t take long getting cleaned up, and then it was my turn, and the whole time, all I could wonder was if he’d even still be there when I came out of the bathroom. I almost lost him. I almost watched him fall to his death, and I’d caused it. If I hadn’t distracted him. If I hadn’t called out and made him move, he wouldn’t have caused the edge to break apart.
He was sitting waiting for me when I stepped out of the bathroom, clean of the cliff dust, but still wearing my dusty clothes, because neither of us had beenprepared to get changed too.
“I made coffee.” Stitch pointed at the two steaming mugs on the folding table. He’d also packed the bed away at last, giving us more room to sit together.
“Thanks. Uh… I know we need to have a serious talk, and put a lot of stuff out there that we’ve been holding in, but can I please… just for a minute, can you hold me? I need your arms around me.”
Stitch didn’t even hesitate, getting up from his seat, and folding his arms around me, crushing me against his chest. He kissed the top of my head.
