Twenty-Six
H e recovered far too soon, lunging up from his prone position to throw me back on that bed, slapping my face hard before he hovered over me.
“I know you think you’re too good for me, or I don’t know, smarter than me, but face facts, Alicia. I won, and I have you. I have you, and I’ll get the drugs back. I’ll use you until I’m tired of you. Oh… and as a bonus, turns out your biker guy is dead. All in all, I’d say you have nothing left to fight for.”
Dead. Dead? What the fuck? How could Reacher be dead? God no, please, no.
“I don’t believe you. There’s no way you’ve taken the fight to him, and taken him out, not without a serious fight with his entire club. You’re lying.”
His face was way too smug, and I wanted to slap that look from his asshole face, but terror was freezing me in place again. Not Reacher, please.
“Nah, slut… I didn’t say we took him out. Seems you did that for us.”
What? He wasn’t making sense.
“I don’t… get away from me. You’re lying. You’re trying to destroy me, but it won’t work. Reacher is out there, and he’ll find me. He’ll save me, but he’ll be too late, because I’ll already have saved myself. You think I need a man to save me? You’re dumber than you look, asshole.” Another slap. It made my ear start to ring, and my cheek was burning with pain.
“He keeled over, you dumb cunt. Guess you picked a dud this time. He couldn’t even manage to live long enough to try and save you.” My god… no… My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest, the heavy thuds almost painful. No. My blood seemed to chill in my veins. I shouldn’t have left the fucking waiting room. I caused this. I killed him. He was right, I killed Reacher.
With a scream of pure rage and despair, I lashed out at Raoul, punching, kicking, and clawing at him. From the pained grunts I heard now and then, I knew some of my blows landed, and I was rewarded with one of his brutal fists, hitting my cheek.
It stunned me for a moment, and that was how he gained the upper hand. He was blurry, my eyes unable to focus. No wait. That was because of the tears. Not tears for him. Not even tears for my situation, and the futility of my struggles. The tears were for Reacher. The man I loved. The man I lost. The man I didn’t want to live without.
Raoul’s hands locked around my throat, and I let mine drop to the mattress. I had no desire to fight him, to fight for my survival, because he was right. I had nothing to live for. Nobody. Reacher was dead. How was I supposed to live on without him?
“Come on, bitch. Where’s that fighting spirit? You know I like it when you fight me.” He was leaning close, watching my face as the lack of air started to send a surge of panic through me. Despite myself, I clawed at his hands, because that terror that washes over you, when you can feel yourself suffocating… it’s impossible not to fight. It’s impossible to lay there, and let someone choke you to death, as much as I wanted it.
“Raoul. Boss wants you.” I was dimly aware of someone else in the room, but I couldn’t see anything. Everything was darkening, as my body started to give in, consciousness fading from me.
“Kinda fucking busy here,” I heard him mutter, as I passed out at last and knew nothing more.
Reacher
I t wasn’t right. I felt beyond fucking useless, stuck in this hospital bed, while my family, my brothers tried to save my woman, and why was that? Because my fucking body wasn’t up to it. My fucking heart nearly shit its pants, and died on me.
The questions from the doc when he visited me were laughable, they really were. Had I been under extra stress lately? Gee, let me think for a minute.
Was there anything going on that was causing me sleepless nights, and missed meals, and making me worry? Well, there’s my brother Ice, who’s in intensive care, after someone tried to kill him. There’s Ryder, and his fucked up old lady, using illegal, and untested, substances, just to get their fucking rocks off. Oh… and somehow we’re now tied to the mafia. I mean, take your pick.
That was bad enough. All of that was enough for one Club President, but now my lady was out there, captured by a fucking drug cartel. Was it any wonder that it had been the last straw? And the irony of the situation was that being stuck here, laid up and hooked up to these fucking machines, while she was out there? That was making things worse.
I was more stressed than ever, because I needed to be searching for her. Hunting down the bastards who’d taken her. Rescuing her fine ass from the bad guys, and if I tried that, Stitch would hunt my ass down, and put me in the fucking ground himself. None of that would get me any closer to saving her.
And the real frustration of it all was that I felt half dead. My body was heavy, and drained, and I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to get out of bed without help. How pathetic had I become? How pathetic was the man she thought could protect her?
“Reacher, we have something.” Stitch hurried into my cubicle, followed by Torch.
“Thank fuck for that.” I tried sitting up, but my arms wouldn’t bear my weight, and I felt mortified by that fact, as they both watched me for a few seconds.
“Jesus, man. You nearly had a fucking heart attack today. Use the controls.” Stitch used the buttons on the bed to adjust the angle, sitting me up further.
“I feel so fucking useless.”
Torch rolled his eyes. “You’ve been taking on everything everyone gets themselves into. It’s no wonder it hit you. You gotta take better care of yourself, Pres. We need you. Uh… I mean, no offence, Stitch.”
Stitch shrugged, leaning against the wall.
“Found their hideout, innit. We’re going in, and we’re taking no fucking prisoners.”
I felt my spirits lifting a little, even though I hated being side-lined for the entire fucking operation. The main thing had to be saving Ally, because I needed her back, safe by my side.
Torch rubbed his shaved head, hiding the dark lines of his tattooed skull.
“I mean, I feel like we should keep a few alive, for the Pres to get out all his aggression on.”
I raised my eyebrows, looking from him to Stitch.
“If anyone survives, I’ll happily join the fight. When’s this all happening? Anything could be happening to my old lady, while you guys stand here with your thumbs up your asses.”
Stitch rolled his eyes at me.
“It’s already underway, Reacher.”
I frowned at both of them, because how the fuck was it going down if they were right here, instead of out there saving my fucking woman?
“So what the fuck are you two doing here?”
Torch nodded at us and left the room, while Stitch sat down.
“We’re the ones guarding you and Ice, brother. Until this is done, I don’t want to take any chances, but literally everyone else is going after Ally, even Jock.”
Wow. Jock. He didn’t do much these days apart from drink, and miss his old lady. I wasn’t sure if he’d be much use, but I appreciated the assistance.
“Who’s taking lead?”
Stitch leaned back, watching me for a moment.
“Ryder.” Jesus .
“He’s not been his best self lately. Sure he’s up to it?”
“Reacher, he’s determined to make up to you for what he’s been doing. I think out of everyone, he’s the most likely to succeed at this, and that’s why he’s going in. So’s his old lady, by the way.”
“What the fuck for? He’ll only have eyes for her, and it’ll distract him.” I knew I should have taken care of things myself. I reached for the tubes in my hand, and Stitch cursed, reaching over to drag my hand away before I grabbed them.
“Don’t be a prick. Tori is there purely to support Ally… just in case she… uh… needs a female presence.” Fuck . He meant in case she’d been raped by these bastards. I fought to swallow the rage filling me up. If those fuckers had touched my old lady, I’d carve their fucking hearts from their chests, after I made them eat their own dicks.
“If… if that’s…”
“Way ahead of you, man. We’ll make sure we bring the fucker back alive if he did.”
“So it’s Raoul?”
He nodded grimly. “He’s running things around our neck of the woods, so he’s definitely behind things.” I hated the thought of anyone having Ally, especially the same fucker who’d used and abused her before. What the hell was he doing to her right now?
Stitch rubbed at the back of his neck, a shifty look on his face, and I realised there was more to the fucking story than he’d let on already.
“We… uh… we’re not going in alone.”
What the fuck? “Tell me you didn’t…”
He sighed heavily. “Didn’t have a lot of choice. Rossi’s boys were the ones who tracked the place, and they want them gone too, so it’s a joint rescue. MC and mafia. Can’t make that shit up, right?”
Jesus fucking Christ. Rossi’s boys were also the same fuckers who’d abused my old lady last time they ‘retrieved her’!
“That’s it. I’m done sitting here like a lemon. Get me the hell out of here.”
He just fucking sat there staring at me, a stubborn look on his damn face.
“Not happening, man. I want you alive, and that means you fucking rest.”
“I have to be there. I have to fucking save her.”
“Your heart’s racing again.”
“No shit, asshole. I’m desperate to save my old lady.” I tried sitting up, but my fucking body felt like it was made of lead weights.
“Why the fuck can’t I move?”
He still didn’t move, and I swear to god if he didn’t get up and help me, I’d kick his ass too. When I had the fucking strength, that is.
“Stitch?”
He shrugged finally. “I’d say that whatever caused you to collapse is still sapping your energy, so maybe try calming the fuck down. Great, and now you got us in trouble. ”
The nurse looked pissed, and it wasn’t the one who has the hots for my VP either.
“Is this person upsetting you, Mr Anderson? We can have him removed.”
I snorted. “Uh… he’s doing no harm, nurse.”
“So your heart rate is erratic because?” Snarky nurse this one, still she was another obstacle in my fucking way right now.
“I tried moving. I… it’s okay, I learned my fucking lesson, okay?”
She glared at Stitch, who winced under the force of it, then back at me.
“I’ll thank you both to mind your language, and try to abide by the rules. You need rest, Mr Anderson.”
“What I need is a cup of coffee.”
She glared at me again. “Coffee is not advised at this time, Mr Anderson.”
“Jesus, my fucking name is Reacher, okay?”
Her lips pursed, and I heard Stitch sniggering.
“Jesus. Look… I’m sorry, okay? I’m… I’m just a fucking normal guy, and I swear. Everyone fucking swears. I’m trying, but I’m frustrated and fed up, and my lady is out there relying on me to save her, and I’m stuck here like a fucking waste of space!”
Stitch stood up, and held a hand up, doing that thing he does where he calms the situation, and diffuses the shit normally caused by me.
“Sorry about him, love. He’s a bit cranky, but I’ll keep him quiet so you can get on with looking after the nicer patients.”
She left with a huffy sigh, and Stitch leaned on the bed to stare down at me.
“You got a fucking death wish? That one has crazy eyes, I mean, Jesus, she’s either gonna jump you, or murder you, and I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t survive either.” He widened his eyes dramatically at me. Dickhead.
“So you’re just gonna stay and piss me off?”
He smirked then. “Nah. I’m gonna get me a coffee, and get you a lovely cup of tea.”
“Fuck you.”