Page 19 of Torch
“Just wondering if you’re planning on getting off your ass at some point and manning up? It’s like you almost died or something.”
The fuck? I was up and off the sofa before he could even blink, my hand wrapping around the back of his head, as I slammed his forehead against the bar.
“That man enough for you, fuckhead? You wanna push me? Just fucking try it.”
“Jesus, man, back off. He’s just playing,” Rocket muttered, earning himself a fist in the face, as my anger over Micro, and Grace, and fucking murdering bastards, hit its peak at last.
“The fuck is going on here?”
I was dragged away as I tried to bury a pint glass in Stag’s face, and ended up in Reacher’s office, with him and Stitch.
“You wanna explain that shit back there?”
I shrugged at my President and VP, because I had no fucking idea why I’d gone off like that. It was banter, right? It was what we all did, all the fucking time, so why was I acting like a bitch about it?
“Waiting for a fucking answer here. We have enough shit going down right now, without petty infighting in the club,” Reacher snapped at me, slamming a palm against his desk, as he dropped back into his seat.
I slumped in my seat, my anger draining away, and leaving me a little bemused.
“I have no fucking idea. I just lost it, Pres.”
“Oh, well as long as you just lost it, carry on,” he muttered, rubbing his palm over his eyebrow.
“Torch, I appreciate that you’re finding it hard to reintegrate after what happened, and we’re all on edge, not knowing who among us wants to cause us harm, but we have to operate as normal, wherever possible-”
“Yeah? Well, maybe that’d be easier for you, VP, what with you not being knifed almost to death, by someone you fucking know, andtrust. You think you’d just shrug it off? I’m not some pussy who can’t handle a bit of danger. I have a big fucking issue with betrayal though, and that’s what this is. This is someone I’ve known, maybe for fucking years, and trusted with my life over and over, who decided that my back was where they wanted to store a fucking knife. I just wanna start beating the fuck out of people, until someone fucking admits to doing it. Maybe I should just get started, yeah?”
And yeah, that’s how I got ordered to take an appointment with Lissa, booked by Reacher right then and there on the phone. Apparently it’s frowned upon to start beating the fuck out of my brothers until someone breaks. And wasn’t it just perfect to walk in there, and see her leaving? She looked like she wanted to talk to me, but I wasn’t in the mood for more bullshit from her, so I blanked her, and walked right into Lissa’s office.
“Torch,” Lissa started, but I waved her off.
“Not talking about her, okay?” I didn’t mean to snap, but I was literally on my last nerve at this point. Fucked over by everyone in my damn life, and with no outlet for my anger. Maybe this is the last place I should be right now, because Lissa didn’t deserve all this fucking rage.
“Okay, Torch, take a moment to catch your breath. Would you like a cup of tea or something?”
Despite myself, I felt my lips quirk at her words.
“Tea? I don’t think even a nice cuppa can calm me right now, doc, but thanks.”
Lissa waited me out, calm and unconcerned there on her cushy armchair, but to be fair, we all knew she had a panic button, linked directly to Ice, and likely to bring a horde of bikers in here, within minutes of her pressing it. I was suddenly wondering if that’d even be enough if he came for her, whoever he was.
“You’re safe here, right?”
Lissa frowned, tilting her head at me. That red hair of hers was all pulled up in a bun like Grace liked to wear hers, and even that made me think of her.
“There’s no need to be concerned for me, or for Cammy, Torch. We’re very well protected by the club, as you know. Let’s focus on you though, because you’ve been through far too much lately, and it’s clearly playing on you.”
I suddenly wished for that damn cuppa, just for something else to think about.
“Yeah… well, between me being someone’s little bit of rough on the side, and someone else’s knife storage device, yeah… I guess I’m a bit on edge.”
Grace
Helookedrightthroughme at the therapy clinic, and that was playing on my mind, as I went back in to work the next morning, called in on my day off due to staff shortages. I mean, let’s be honest, the NHS is plagued with all kinds of shortages, because of so many things, but I had no space in my head for work worries, when I had a man who seemed to hate me, and I had no idea why.
I thought we’d had an amazing experience together, albeit with me cutting it short for an obsessive tidy up. I knew I should have explained why I was pushing him away afterward, and maybe I would have, if I could have understood it properly myself. I knew I’d freak out at any mess, but all I had to do was tell him how obsessive I was about that stuff, and I was pretty sure he’d understand. He hadn’t given me that chance though, and now I was wondering if it just wasn’t as good for him as it’d been for me. He’d been unsure after, hadn’t he?
I was shocked to see him walking down the hospital corridor near the end of my extra shift. Shocked, and a little excited too, if I’m honest with myself.
