Page 40 of Torch
Grace
WhenTorchrangmethat evening, he sounded completely unlike him. He was quiet, almost monotone, maybe even defeated.
“What’s going on, Torch? Has someone else been injured?”
He sighed, and I waited impatiently for a response. It took longer than I’d expected, but finally he started to speak.
“Nah. Shit’s getting worse here. I wish I could see you, and fucking hold you, but I’m so scared of having you anywhere near this place right now, and I can’t risk coming to you either.”
“Full lockdown,” I said, commiserating with his situation, and he snorted.
“Fuck that, if it wasn’t about your safety, I’d be sneaking out for sure. One of my club brothers is missing, and we’re coming up empty on what’s happened to him.”
Oh my god. I sat up in bed, because I’d retired early, with a book and a glass of wine, when he’d called.
“Oh no! Do you think he’s been hurt or… or…” I couldn’t say it. Did I want to suggest his brother had been murdered? Club brother or not, these guys were as close as family, and I didn’t want to make this harder on him.
“There are two possibilities, babe, and both of them fucking suck.” Two? Both? He groaned and I heard bedding rustling, proving to me that he was in or on his bed too, and restless.
“Torch?”
“Jesus. Either he’s hurt or dead somewhere, or… yeah, or he’s the one behind all this shit, and we have to find him anyway, so we can deal with that.” Deal with it. By that, he obviously meant kill. How horrible to know this guy’s either a victim of the killer, or the killer himself.
“I’m sorry, Torch. Are… are you close with him?” He groaned, and I could picture him laying back and rubbing a hand over his shaved head with frustration.
“I mean, it’s Tommy, man. He’s… he’s a prospect, but he’s a good kid. At least, we all thought that. I’m really hoping it’s not a lie, but if he’s not the bad guy, then there’s a real possibility that this fuck has killed him, and that breaks my heart too. He was due to be patched in so fucking soon, too. Why would he be caught up in this, even if he…”
“You think he figured something out? Or maybe suspected someone, and they had to get rid of him.” I heard his bedding move as he reacted to my words. Did he sit up? I wished I could see him. We had to make it a video call next time, so I could at least see his face.
“Fuck. That’s a good point, and I don’t know if we’ve even thought that far into it. I think we’re all still reeling from the fact that this fucker killed Jock, and might have killed Tommy too, and even worse, that if it’s Tommy doing it then, well-”
“Jock? Who’s Jock?”
Torch cleared his throat and I heard more rustling. Was he getting out of bed? Getting ready for bed? Flailing about with frustration? Once more I wished I could see him.
“Jock was a member of the club, and he retired recently, but he was old school. A member of the old club, and stayed when Reacher and Stitch took over. Fuck. That poor old bastard. He was here to warn Reacher of something, but Ally’s accident got in the way.” Almost as if the culprit knew they were on borrowed time.
“You think they targeted Ally, to try and stop the meeting with Jock?”
Torch suddenly barked out a laugh.
“Fucking wish you were here working this shit with us. You’ve got a keen brain, hot doctor.”
His voice held a little of his usual snark, and it made me smile, relief taking some of the tension out of my posture.
“Yes, and skilled hands,” I said quietly, wanting to hear him chuckle or laugh. He didn’t fail me, chuckling darkly as his bedding rustled again.
“Definitely need a bit of a check up, doc. I’ve got parts that need those skilled hands.” God yes. I opened my mouth to answer, but sudden banging, coming from his end of the phone, silenced me.
“Fuck. Babe, I gotta go. One of the guys is at my door. Stay safe, yeah, keep your eyes open, and stay clear of any bikers for now. I miss you.” He was gone before I could even respond, and I could only hope that his visitor wasn’t bringing him even more bad news.
A sound downstairs made me freeze, as I tried to work out if what I heard was in this house, or coming from next door. Everything that was going on had me so jumpy now. Did I just imagine it, or was there someone in my house?
Twenty-One
Stitchhadbeenbangingon my door, like the fucking reaper coming to take my ass to hell, and for what? To say there was no fucking news yet. Seriously? You couldn’t just text that shit to me?
“You scared the shit out of me, you asshole.”
