Thirty-Eight
R eacher returned long enough to stick his head in his office, and demand that we both go to our rooms, and then we were followed by two poor prospects who looked like they’d also had their asses handed to them tonight.
I’m sure the gate prospects had been reamed too, for letting in some bitch who didn’t have a reason to be here. How the fuck had she even thought coming here was appropriate? Sure, I’d strung her along a little, to get the drugs for Ry and Tori, but I hadn’t been back in weeks. Since before the uh… incident that apparently I shouldn’t mention.
I glared at Has’ back as he walked ahead of me, but I knew I was being an asshole, because he actually hadn’t done anything wrong, right? Not until he punched me when I was distracted. If he was helping my woman, shouldn’t I be grateful? Would she have run from me if he hadn’t? I’d gone to his room to apologise for everything, and ended up trying to bury my fist in his damn face.
“Has, uh… sorry, uh…” I trailed off, because apologising to him felt wrong, and I was still pissed at him.
He’d stopped to look at me from his doorway, a snarky ass look on his face.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah… sorry you had to sucker punch me to get the upper hand. ”
He laughed, flipped me off, and disappeared into his room, closing the door firmly behind him. One of the prospects took up position outside his door, while the other followed me further down the hallway.
Going into my room sucked, big time, because it was already too empty without her. The bags she’d packed, so she could stay with me, they were all gone. Nothing of her remained, except for a hint of her perfume, and a stronger scent of tea for some reason. That reason became clear when I stepped into the kitchen and something crunched under my bare foot, pain lancing through my instep.
“What the fuck!” There were shards of ceramic everywhere. Jesus, my favourite mug. The Vanilla Ice one that Torch bought me as a gag gift years ago. The image on the mug had been fading, but the good memory had always persisted when I used it.
I dropped down onto my ass on the floor, wincing at the reminder of the ache in between my legs, and the way my shoulder absorbed the jarring landing. I pulled my foot up to rest on the other knee, so I could dig out the small piece of Vanilla Ice’s face from my foot, blood following out for a moment, before I pressed my fingers over the cut. Damn. It hurt more than it should have. I was just losing fucking everything today.
I tossed the piece on the floor, and lay back on the scratchy carpet, to stare at the ceiling. I needed her, and she’d fucking disappeared from my life again. Everything felt wrong. Everything felt completely fucking hopeless. So much of my body throbbed with pain, the tremors were back, and my hair still fucking felt like some bastard had threaded it into my scalp with needles, one asshole strand at a time.
And maybe that’s what led me into the bathroom, on a mission to end my suffering, because there was still one fucking thing I could control.
Lissa
R yder was a nice guy too. I don’t know what I’d expected, especially when I’d caused so much trouble, but he’d taken me to the car that Has-Been had used that other time, and loaded my bags into the boot while I took the passenger seat.
“Hey, cheer up, love. Reacher comes across as an ass, but he really does have the best interests of his club members at heart.”
He steered the car out through the heavy gates.
“Yeah, I get that, but since I’m not one of you, that doesn’t include me. He cost me my career, you know.”
He nodded. “I heard, and for the record, he feels like a complete asshole for that. I don’t think even he realises just how terrified he is of losing Ice. He’s always… I dunno, had this kind of vulnerability about him. Apart from it pissing off Has, it pretty much makes the rest of us want to look after him.” Then he laughed. “No matter how often he tells us to fuck off.”
I watched the darkened street as he headed in the direction of my house. I hadn’t even given him my address…
“It’ll all be okay, you know, trust me. If Reacher can forgive me and my old lady for what we did? He’s definitely gonna let you guys be together. Just let him get those two dickheads to sort their shit out, and honestly, I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy, but as long as they say the right things when this is done, he’ll let you back.”
I saw my house approaching, and knew I was running out of time before I would be alone, and heartbroken, rethinking every decision I’d made in the last week, or maybe even longer.
“He apologised, you know.”
Ryder grinned at me as he parked up.
“He’s good like that. I mean, he’s gruff and snarky, but he’s a good President, and he does eventually admit it when he’s wrong. It doesn’t happen too often though. He’s also incredibly smart.” I hadn’t seen enough of that side of him. The side that his club respected and loved.
“I meant Ice. He apologised to Has-Been, just before they ended up punching each other.”
Ryder’s jaw dropped. “He did? Like he was making an effort to be civil?”
I nodded, reaching for the door handle.
“So even if I don’t get to be with him, maybe I at least helped a little.”
Ryder followed me to the door, insisting on carrying my bags. He tucked them into the hallway, and stood there for a minute, staring at me, while I glanced around my suddenly too-empty house. It felt cold and unwelcoming, and I really didn’t want to be alone.
He cleared his throat.
“Uh… any chance of a coffee before I go? You know… one for the road, and all that?”
It was with extreme relief that I let him in, and closed the door, shutting out the debilitating loneliness for a little longer.