Page 70 of Stitch
Dinner with the otherswas an eye opener for sure. The men all wore their cuts, which made a few people in the hotel restaurant look uneasy, but we paid them no mind, because it didn’t matter. We knew we weren’t the bad guys, and that was all that mattered.
It was Stitch and me, with Reacher and Alicia, Ryder and Tori, and Ice and Lissa. The others had apparently headed back to the clubhouse, and honestly, I was glad, because it would have made this crew even rowdier if there were more men among us. Bikers could really put away alcohol, and they were drinking it like it was going out of fashion.
Well, everyone except Ice. Ice was on water. A biker who didn’t drink, and it seemed so unusual, but then I knew he was a former addict, or I guess forever an addict, so maybe alcohol was just too risky for him. He insisted on Lissa drinking with us girls, and by the time we’d eaten, most of us were way past the point of tipsy, and well on the way to staggering drunk.
We headed back to one of the rooms with more alcohol, and settled in for the night. It was strange because I barely knew most of them, but I felt so at home. So much a part of them, that I was completely comfortable just relaxing with them. Stitch was feeling very hands-on, keeping me close at all times, or preferably sitting on him, and I was more than happy to be as close to him as possible.
They were all talking about past bikers and stuff, and I was content just to sit back, feeling Stitch’s voice and laughter rumbling through him, as he relaxed and enjoyed himself. I didn’t want it to ever end. Not the night, but him feeling this way. I wanted him to have peace and comfort, and I wanted him to live without fear hovering over him.
He’d been convinced since before I met him that he was dying, that it was a done deal, butI wasn’t so sure. Having a lump doesn’t mean the end, and he’d had the thing removed, in a rather extreme way, so maybe that was the end of the threat.
I wanted him to get his test results so he could move on with his life, no matter what they said. I wanted to have more nights like this with him, with his club, his family. Maybe it was time to push things and make him chase for the results, rather than waiting indefinitely for a letter that should have come by now, because surely it should have.
Surely if it were urgent, and he needed treatment, surely to god it would have been faster than this. Was the lack of results a good thing or bad? Was there no urgency, because he was healthy, or was it more that there was no urgency because there was nothing they could do to save him?
“Hey?” I felt Stitch stroking my cheek, and I realised he was brushing tears away. When did I even start to cry? Everyone looked worried, as I cast my eyes around, and I felt myself flushing with embarrassment, as I ruined the night for everyone.
“Sorry… guess I’m a weepy drunk.”
Lissa was shaking her head. “She isn’t. I know she isn’t, but it’s been one hell of a day, right?” She tried to get up from her seat beside Ice, and nearly faceplanted the instant she moved, breaking into giggles as Ice caught her and dragged her into his arms.
“It’s probably time I get this one tucked in, right? Before she takes us all out.”
Stitch laughed, and dragged me up too.
“We’ll go back to the camper, and let you guys get some rest. Thanks again though, all of you. I know it was a bitch to have to all trek out here to help me.”
“Brother, it’s what we do.” Reacher got up and did one of those bro-hugs men do, before he backed up and joined Alicia again on the sofa. Apparently this room was theirs, so we all moved on, saying goodnight to everyone as we walked. Once we were inside the mobile home, Stitch turned me to face him, his fingers sweeping across my cheeks, to dry any last tears.
“Babe, talk to me.”
I swallowed hard, shaking my head.
“I’m just being silly. I swear, you shouldn’t let me drink so much, Stitch.”
He checked the door was locked, and led me to the bed, nudging me downonto it, making me groan as the sudden shift in balance made the world lurch awkwardly to one side in my drunken head.
Stitch climbed up on the bed with me, and spooned me against him.
“Rest up, wifey. Might wake you up with my dick in your ass if you’re really lucky.” Oh god. I tried shaking my head again, but it just made the world spin even more.
His quiet chuckle trailed off, and I think we both fell asleep pretty much instantly.
Thirty-Three
She was still morosewhen she woke up, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t a hangover or anything. Something was bothering her.
What worried me was that maybe she’d had time to absorb what I’d done, and realised she didn’t want to be around a person who could do that to another living being. Never mind that the asshole deserved it. Never mind that he didn’t pay for long enough. What if she saw me as the monster now? What if she was afraid of me now?
I stayed in bed, or on it, since we hadn’t even undressed last night, and waited for her to finish in the bathroom. When she returned, I tried to coax her back to the bed, but she shook her head.
“I need some fresh air, Stitch. I need to take a little walk or something.” A walk? Without me? I sat up, smoothing my hair back.
“I’ll go with you.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a couple of minutes at most. My head’s just a bit woozy after last night.” She was lying to me. It was so clear to me that she was hiding something from me.
Why now, after we’d fixed what was wrong with her life? As I watched her walk out of the camper, fighting every instinct in me to follow her, I suddenly realised that maybe that was the problem.
