Page 78 of Torch
She pulled her hands away from me and covered her face as she sobbed, and for a moment my mind was whirling so much that I stayed frozen in place. She made what call? No, that couldn’t be right, could it? She had to mean something else.
“Babe, what the hell are you talking about? You made what call?”
Her hands lowered and she rubbed at her eyes, probably hating how messy she felt right now, but I couldn’t let her retreat into that shit right now either.
“What fucking call, Grace?”
She swallowed hard and clenched her fists, as she lowered them to her lap.
“I called the police about Micro. I wanted him gone, and you safe, but I was wrong to do it. Please just know that I had the best intentions. I wanted-”
“Jesus, woman. Will you quit it? You didn’t make the call, because we know who did, and it’s all fine. Will you stop messing around and tell me what’s really going on?”
Her forehead creased as she gazed up at me.
“I made the call, Torch.”
“No, Lissa did. Micro was a sick fuck, but she felt she had to do something, because he was her half-brother, and she was conflicted. She’s a good person, babe, just like you, but she owned up. It’s all good.” More tears rolled down her cheeks, which made no fucking sense, because I was telling her this shit was settled.
“No. Oh god, Ally wasn’t making that up then. She… she’s in the basement now? It should be me, Torch. I’m the one who did it, and I don’t know why she’s covering for me. She must have figured it out after we talked the other day,” she murmured, barely speaking loud enough for me to hear now, because she was thinking out loud at this point.
“What the fuck are you on about? Lissa owned up, but she’s not in the fucking basement, babe. Why would we put her in there? I keep telling you we’re not fucking monsters.”
I gave in then, leaning down and grabbing Grace’s arms, dragging her up into my lap and holding her against my chest, and fucking hell, this is where she should always be. Her warmth seeped into me through our clothes, and melted the ice around my heart, helping me breathe deeply again. I didn’t even realise how fucked up I’d been over her leaving.
“So let me get this straight; you called the cops to shop Micro, because you thought it’d protect me, and then you ran, because you thought we’d torture and kill you in the basement for it?”
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she nodded slowly, maybe finally realising how fucking stupid she’d been.
“And why the fuck did you think we’d do that? Micro betrayed the club, and raped and murdered people, and that’s why he was getting that treatment. Making a call doesn’t get someone down there, babe, least of all a fucking old lady. We treat our women with respect, and yeah, okay, maybe in the bedroom things get nasty, but that’s the only place it happens.”
“But I thought… I thought anyone who betrayed the club would get punished like that.”
“I’m kinda thinking of punishing you in a completely different way, but only because we’ll both enjoy it, doc. You made a lot of assumptions, and you hurt us both in the process. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just fucking talk to me about this?”
“But Lissa said…”
“She said what?”
“Ally was in the basement, and she’s the President’s old lady, Torch! If she can end up there, then surely any one of us can!”
Jesus fuck. Could Lissa have at least fucking explained that shit to her?
“Ally was in there when we first met her, for something else she did to the club, but Reacher fell for her, and she went from there to his fucking bedroom.”
“What did she do?”
“Long story, and now’s not the time. We’ll talk about you calling the cops, but first just fucking stay in my lap for a while, because I thought I’d never have this again.”
Forty
Icouldn’tbelievethatTorch was here in my house, and he was holding me in his lap, his strong arms hugging me tightly, like he really didn’t hate me for what I’d done.
Could it really be this simple? Should I just have told him when he got back that day, and would we have been in this position two days ago, or would he have been too raw and broken to hear it, and handle it?
“You’re really not mad at me?” I whispered in a tiny voice, almost like a breath of air that vaguely formed words.
“I’m fucking furious, but I get why you did it. Club life is different, and you haven’t seen much of it yet, because this shit has been going on for too long. I’ll explain everything to you, I promise, but you have nothing to fear as my old lady. I mean… if that’s even what you want.”
