Page 15 of Patchover Fright Night
Torch
This shit couldn’t getany worse. First off, Grace was off her fucking face on something, and kept trying to strip off, which wasn’t fucking happening, so I’d finally done the only thing I could think of. I’d taken her to the van, and locked her in. I mean, it was unlocked, but I knew where the keys were, as in we always kept them in the glove box. The tools were gone, which seemed a bit of a fucking problem, because nobody was in their right mind right now, but one problem at a time.
I sat Grace in the back of the van, and wrapped a blanket around her.
“Doc.”
“M… Mr North, do awful things to me, right now!” Fuck. I wanted that so much, but she wasn’t in her right mind.
“I… I will. I’ll be right back. I’mma just go get some uh… lube… so I can fuck that tight little ass. You know you love that.”
For once, instead of pretending she really didn’t like it, she’d gasped and begged me to hurry back, so once she was safely squirrelled away, I looked for the Pres, who was nowhere to be seen, even though his old lady was dozing off by the fire. I’d taken one look at her, and the scrapping going on around her, and picked her up, taking her with me to the one and only prospect I could see, who wasn’t fucked up like the others. He was standing by the storeroom, and cursed when he saw me approaching.
“Can’t let anyone in there, or him out, man, I’m sorry.”
“What? Who?”
“Reacher. He’s… Ice said he has to stay in there. He’s trying to fuck everyone. He thinks they’re all his old lady, or something.”
Shit. Was it safe to leave her with him, or would he end up hurting her?
“ALLY!” Reacher was banging on the door, maybe attracted by the voices outside.
“Fuck it. This is Ally, his old lady. Let’s get her in there with him, and hope to fuck that he’s with it enough to fucking look after her.” I prayed it wasn’t the wrong move, but when we opened that door, and Reacher set his eyes on his old lady, he grabbed her from my arms, and staggered back, dropping down onto his ass by the shelving.
“I’ve got you, woman, you’re okay.”
“Reacher? I’m so horny,” she whimpered at him, and I took one last look at the way they were eyefucking each other, and got the hell out of dodge.
“I think they’ll keep each other busy, prospect. Don’t let anyone in there with them.”
Finally, I went looking for Stitch, and instead found Micro scrambling around in the dark, crying over something I couldn’t see, while intermittently yelling at someone I figured was his father, from the things he was saying.
The poor bastard was caught up in some kind of hell, and although a part of me was tempted to leave him to suffer it, I just couldn’t fucking do it.
I smacked him around the head, and he seemed to gain a little clarity, for at least a moment, but just as he focused on me, and murmured my name, I heard something chilling.
“I can fly!”We both turned around in horror, to see Stitch up on top of the building, and also teetering on the raised edge of the roof, with his arms outstretched.
“FUCK!” We both ran for him, just as he leapt from the building, and plummeted towards the ground with a triumphant yell.
Ice
On the way tothe bunkhouse, where we planned to find Grease’s safe, and hopefully bring it back to him, because the stubborn fucker wouldn’t tell us the combination, we passed all kinds of crazy shit.
Rocket was tattooing god only knew what onto Has’s upper arm, but whatever it was had Elise giggling like a loon, and encouraging him to go bigger. Stag was tagging along with us, since he wasn’t hallucinating, as such, just fucking pissed about beer wastage. Ry was stinking up a storm, absolutely drenched in beer and cursing my name, and every other fucker’s name as we ran.
We hadn’t seen Stitch, and there were no old ladies around, except for Elise, so I hoped like fuck that they were safe. We passed the building we’d left our ladies in, and hopefully they were safe in there with Grease, because we couldn’t delay. The sooner we got that satphone, the faster we could put a call out for help. I still wasn’t clear on the best people to call in, because some of these guys would need medical attention, but calling the cops to a fucking biker club was never an option, so it kinda ruled out calling for medical help too.
Don Rossi was our only fucking option, and I hated that we’d be calling in another favour from that pretentious asshole.
“We should check on the women,” Ryder insisted, and hell, I wanted to, I really fucking wanted to, but we needed thatsatphone. I groaned, torn between two fucking needs, and finally nodded.
“You go check on them, but I’m going for the satphone. I’ll meet you back there.”
Ryder grabbed my shoulder. “Listen, man, right now, every brother is a potential fucking enemy, okay? Be safe.”
I groaned, waving him off. “Like I don’t fucking know that. Keep your wits about you.”
