Page 66 of Stitch
“What? What was that?”
Lissa turned to poke her.
“What was that about Stitch?”
She groaned. “Ryder told me why he’s called Stitch, that’s all. You don’t want to know.”
I really wanted to fucking know. Who the hell had I married? What caused him to have that as a name? We’d joked about it before, and oh hell… he’d hinted that it was something violent, hadn’t he?
“He stitches people? How? What does he do to them?”
Tori groaned, drawing her fingers through her short hair.
“He earned the name when he went after the guys who raped his cousin. She doesn’t know, but the club found them. He made them admit what they did, and then… ugh… he sewed their mouths shut, while they were still alive.”
WHAT?Stitch did that? Stitch literally sewed people’s mouths shut? I felt sick. I felt more than sick, I felt horrified. And yet… who did he do it to? Rapists. Didn’t they deserve that and more?
We arrived at the little holiday place, and I finally found somewhere to park the mobile home, even though we had to pay extra to park it.
Alicia and Tori went in to sort out keys, while Reacher waited with Lissa and me.
“When they get back, they’re gonna want to get straight inside, and get clean. You’ll wait in here with us, okay?”
“Why? I should be wherever Stitch will be.”
“Babe, let him wash clean of everything that just happened. He won’t want you near him until he has his shit together.”
“I should be there to clean him up, to look after him.”
Reacher cursed, as he watched the grey van pull into the car park, as far from us as it could.
“He needs time to get his head straight, Cammy. He had to go dark to do what he had to do, and he doesn’t want you seeing him like that. Can you respect that, and wait for him?”
“Ohhhh my mistake, so you’re going to use guilt to try and control me? Screw that. He needs me and I need him, dammit. Do you really think I married him as some kind of fucking game or something? I want to spend every fucking minute with him. The bucket list thing… hell, it was an excuse, to spend time with him, to get him to open up. I just wanted him to talk to me, to be with me, and now you’re doing your best to keep us apart.”
Reacher cursed, throwing his hands up.
“I swear, you women are so fucking stubborn. I’m not doing this to fucking ‘keep you apart’, or hurt you in some way. I’m trying to protect my brother, and right now what he needs is a few fucking minutes to compose himself. Doesn’t he deserve that?”
Ugh. I hated being manipulated by people who were actually right.
“Whatever.” I stepped into the small bathroom and locked the door. I didn’t need the damn loo, but I needed to get away from Reacher, with his fucking bossy asshole ways, and Lissa with her caring eyes, and the way she quietly observed me, rather than fucking helping.
I needed to be with Stitch. It was a desperate, agonising need. A burning urge inside me. If his time was limited, I didn’t want him to spend a single damn minute away from me. Why waste any of them by being apart?
I leaned on the tiny sink and rested my head against the permanently slightly-opaque mirror. How long would I have to wait for him? How long would he stay away to put his demons back in their cages. How long would he be somewhere other than by my fucking side?
Thirty-Two
Itook the shortestshower possible, just ridding myself of any visible blood, and dressed fast. I needed to be with Camille. I felt like I was dying faster every second we were apart.
“Jesus, man, you wanna take a breath?” Ryder caught my shoulders as I lunged for the door.
“I need to be with her, Ryder. Jesus, don’t stop me.”
He nodded, not letting go of me.
“I get it, man, trust me. Being away from Tori is fucking agony, but you’re not in your right mind, and she needsyouback, not whoever the fuck this is.” He shoved me back, and followed me as I dropped down onto the bed behind me. My hands were shaking. Adrenaline had been fuelling me, and now it was dissipating and leaving me a trembling mess.
