Nineteen
D espite the way my mind was still consumed with what had happened upstairs in my bed, being back out on my bike felt amazing. Even though I could feel it pulling at the weakened muscles in my arm and shoulder, and knew I’d pay later, I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit.
I reached the gates, and my next obstacle.
“Hey, brother. Going somewhere?”
I shot the blond prospect a glare. “Actually, Nick, I am. Get the gates open.”
He frowned, staring back at the clubhouse.
“I uh… I need to check in with the Pres.”
I leaned closer, watching him lean closer too.
“Unless you want me to vote against you being patched in, you’ll open the fucking gate. Remember, one ‘no’ vote is all it takes, prospect.”
He cursed. “You’re gonna pull that one on me? I let you out of here, and Reacher’ll throw me out anyway!”
I rolled my eyes. “Open the gate, or I’m gonna put you in the hospital. How’s that?”
I heard a shout behind us, and knew I was out of time.
“Open it or I’ll deliberately crash into it, and it’ll be your fault.”
“Fuck’s sake!” He pulled on the gate, and slid it back, just enough for me to ease my bike through, but I could already hear other bikes starting up, so I knew I had to hurry. That fucker had deliberately delayed me long enough to make sure they could follow me. I’d kick his ass for that later, but for now… I had to get out of sight.
I circled the compound, and headed for the road out of town. By the time they realised I’d gone that way, instead of into town, I’d already be half way to Mitch’s place, and that was why I’d made sure they never knew who I actually bought from. So they couldn’t stop me from getting what I needed.
I pulled up outside his crappy little shack about twenty minutes later, having ignored the constant buzzing of my phone in my pocket. I didn’t give a fuck who was trying to reach me. It was either Reacher, or someone else from the club who’d demand that I come home, or it would be her. Trying to convince me that my new premature firing problem didn’t make me less of a man, or some shit. We both knew that was bullshit. I was a disappointment in every possible way.
The fact was that, in every aspect of my life, I was better and more capable of everything, when I was being fuelled by an illegal substance.
“Ice, buddy, this is unexpected. I heard you’d died or something.” Mitch looked like shit. His greasy dark hair was sticking up, and he looked like he hadn’t eaten in months.
“You still killing yourself with that shit, huh?”
He frowned. “So you’re not here to buy?”
I rested my helmet on my bike.
“Not that crap, no. You know what I need.”
He nodded, and disappeared. I knew to never go inside that place. I did it once, but never again. A lot of his clients used on the premises, and so the place stank like vomit and shit, and Jesus… that’s why I don’t touch H. It destroys people. Coke wasn’t so bad. It took a long time to do lasting damage, and I planned to enjoy the ride.
“Here.”
“Usual rate?”
He smirked. “You wish. Add twenty on.”
I shrugged, because I just fucking wanted it, regardless of the cost, financial or otherwise. I stared at the small bag in my hand, knowing there was no going back.
“It’s good shit, right? Not cut with some poison.”
He counted the cash I’d handed him, and laughed.
“It’s the same shit you were taking before, Ice. Don’t be a stranger now.”
I waited until he disappeared inside the wooden shack, and then I stared back down at that tiny bag in my hand. They all wanted me off this stuff, but I was nothing without it. Useless. Worthless. A shell of the man I could be. I could be what she needed. I could give her what she needed.
A quick glance around me told that I couldn’t do this out here. The wind would steal it away from me. I took a deep breath and headed into his hovel, ready to make everything right again.
Lissa
I got dressed, and made it as far as the door of Ice’s room before it crashed open, and Reacher stood there, with his blonde wife behind him.
He glared around the room, like he suspected I’d hidden Ice in here after all.
“What happened?”
I swallowed hard, crumbling a little under the weight of his disapproval, and anger.
“That’s confidential.”
“Bullshit. Confidential is for therapy. This wasn’t therapy. I’m not sure what the fuck it was, but let’s be honest… you shouldn’t be here.”
“Dammit, Reacher. Will you stop yelling at her and let her speak?” His wife stepped between us. “I’m Alicia. Clearly I’m his better half. Are you okay, love?”
I rubbed at my face, my head throbbing from crying.
“I didn’t mean to.”
Reacher grunted, and she shot him another glare.
“Tell us about it. I know you didn’t mean any harm.”
I wrapped one trembling hand in the other, wishing I could fix this mess.
“He… I had an incident tonight, and he came to my rescue. Him and uh… Ryder, I think his name was?”
“Of course it fucking was. Any shit going down in this place, and Ry is right in the fucking middle of it.” Alicia shot Reacher another glare, and patted my shoulder.
“He brought you here?”
I nodded. “He wanted to look after me. Uh… we talked for a while, and then he offered me something to wear so I could sleep here.”
Reacher was rubbing at his brow.
“Did you fuck?”
“Reacher! That’s not our business.”
“Like hell it isn’t. He was clean. He’s been clean for nearly a fucking month, and she’s just fucked it all up. I swear to god, if he uses again-”
“You’ll what? Kick him out? You know you won’t. You know we’ll fight to get him clean again. It’s what family does, Reacher, and stop taking it out on… on… I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name.”
I cleared my throat, disappointed to be dragged back into the conversation so soon.
“Lissa. Uh… Melissa Chase. I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”
Reacher rubbed at his pierced eyebrow again.
“So let me get this straight, you’re his therapist, but somehow he rescued you, brought you back here, fucked you, and then what? You rejected him? Is that what sent him into a tailspin? Got what you wanted, and discarded him? Had your bit of rough, though, right?”
I couldn’t even find that inner strength that allowed me to be so sharp with him before. He was terrifying when he was angry, and I was out of my depth, because it was all my fault.
“Of course not. I’m not some evil bitch who wanted to destroy him. I… I like him. I feel drawn to him, and I care for him. I wanted to be with him, but I’ve been trying to fight it, because I know it’s wrong. I know that I shouldn’t enter into a relationship with someone I’ve been treating, but…”
Reacher cursed, running a hand over his short hair.
“This is a fucking disaster. We had a lucky fucking shot before, because he was unconscious and couldn’t argue with us. We could force him to detox, we could make it happen without him fighting against it. But now? Now he’s gonna go out there, and get fucked up again, and maybe this time we won’t be able to save him.”
He fixed me with a newly fierce glare.
“Anything happens to him, and it’s on you. Hear me? I’ll make sure everyone fucking knows how badly you fucked up, and the damage you’ve done.”
“Reacher!”
He glanced at his wife, and then turned, heading for the door.
“I want her gone. She doesn’t set foot in here again.”
The door slammed behind him, and I practically crumpled into a heap, with Alicia catching me as I fell.