Thirty-Two
I was a fucking asshole. The second the door closed behind her, I stepped out of the bathroom, half hoping she’d pretended to leave, that she’d realised I was being a complete fucker, and didn’t want her to go. This was how I operated though. I fucked things up, when they got really fucking good.
I’d never been with a woman as long as I’d been with Grace, and I fucking threw it away, because I was a pathetic pussy, who thought one fucking disagreement meant a relationship was doomed, because what the fuck did I know about this stuff?
I almost followed her, almost begged her to come back to me, hell, I even dialled her phone, but I ended the call after two rings, because I realised I had no fucking right to try and get her back, after treating her like that.
My usual MO was to fuck and move on. Get pussy, get ass, whatever, then fucking go home, and forget about whoever the hell I was with, but she got under my skin. She got in my fucking head, and Jesus, my heart, and I didn’t want to let her go. Yet one fucking disagreement, and I was throwing her away, like what we had wasn’t worth clinging to with a fucking death grip.
I was such a fucking dickhead, wasn’t I? I finished dressing, because I’d only half dressed earlier, and slid on my cut, the final piece of my wardrobe, and the most important garment I owned, because it represented everything that mattered to me. Everything but her. I needed to find her, and beg her to come back to me.
We were no longer under a lockdown, so of course I could have fucking just got out of here and hunted her down. Maybe she wasn’t even at the gates yet. Fuck. I’d mocked everything about her life, like her being successful and powerful was something to be ashamed of. How could I be so proud of all she’d fucking achieved for herself, while simultaneously knocking her for the same damn thing?
I stepped out of my room and ran for the stairs, and cursed as someone stepped up in front of me, with his hands up.
“Back off, brother. I’m not letting you down there, so back off.” Why the fuck Grease, aka Tesio, thought he had any right to fucking dictate to me, I had no idea, but I also didn’t know why he was trying to keep me in the damn building. Wait, what was he saying?
“Down where?”
He rolled his eyes, starting to look and act so much like one of us, that you could almost forget he was fucking mafia underneath it all.
“Where you do think, asshat?”
Micro. He thought I was coming down for him, and I had been planning that just an hour ago, right? Now though, I had a higher priority, and he was getting in my fucking way.
“Move now. I need to be somewhere.”
“No, you don’t, man. The one strict order they gave me was to keep you away from him, especially if you have your bag of… uh…” he glanced at both of my hands as I lifted them up, to show I held nothing in them. “You’re not here for Micro, are you?”
I shook my head. “Did my pretty fucking lady come by here?”
He shrugged, running a hand through his inky black hair.
“No idea, man, I’ve literally just come on watch. Reacher was apparently around, but I can’t see him anywhere either.”
Huh. Reacher was supposed to be here and wasn’t, but was I lucky enough that he’d stopped my woman from running, before I could fix what I’d fucked up?
“Hey, man, before you go, can you grab me a beer? Kinda need to stay hydrated, while I keep watch over that fuckhead.”
I headed for the bar, then turned and stuck both middle fingers up at him in response, grinning as he cursed me, but I didn’t have time for his shit, because I had a sexy woman to find, and drag back up into my lair.
Grace
R eacher was far kinder and more supportive than I’d expected, only having met him briefly while his wife was in the hospital. He still looked absolutely drained and overwrought, but there was a kindness in his eyes that offered some comfort for my wounded heart.
“How did you know he pushed me away?”
He offered me a sad smile, turning in his seat beside me, so he could face me.
“I know everyone here, and I know how they operate. At least I thought I knew everyone here that well, but I guess I’m learning that some people have depths they’ll sink to, that I didn’t even know existed.” Micro . He had to be talking about him.
“I guess everyone’s struggling with Micro’s betrayal, huh?” Reacher rubbed a hand over his scruffy hair and sighed.
“We knew it was one of us, I mean, it was obvious, but while it was an unknown entity, I guess there was always this hope that we were wrong. Now we know it was him, it’s real. We really were betrayed by one of our own. We really did live with this man around us day and night, and secretly he was abusing our women, and attacking the club. I have no fucking idea how we’re supposed to rebuild after this, because it’s hitting so many of us so hard.”
This is why you can only be betrayed by someone you trust, because if not, you might expect it, or see it coming, but with someone you trust, and are close with, it’s like being blindsided.
“You know this is why Torch pushed you away, right? He’s struggling to deal with the fact that he was closest with him, and we might have to end him. He might be asked to.”
I sat up and frowned at Reacher, because surely he wasn’t implying that he intended to make Torch kill his closest friend. Please don’t do that to him.
“Wait-”
“You don’t need to ask that question, because of course we won’t fucking ask that of him, but it doesn’t stop it eating at him. Don’t let him throw away the one good thing he has in his life right now, doc. He’s better with you, and he knows it, so just don’t give up on him, yeah?”
Everyone kept saying that to me, but it was so hard to fight against someone literally telling you to get out and stay away. All I wanted was to stay with him, but not if he was so sure it wasn’t what he wanted. Consent went both ways, right?
“How do I have the courage to stay when he’s pushing me away so vehemently? Shouldn’t I respect his decision, and give him the space he’s demanding?”
Reacher grinned at me, suddenly looking ten years younger, even though it faded pretty quickly.
“Torch doesn’t need space, and even if he did, he wouldn’t know he needs it. He’s fixated on Micro, and the betrayal he feels, but he loves you, any idiot can see that. You’re the one person who can get under his skin, and force him to face this head on, and that’s why he’s trying to push you away, because he doesn’t want to face this. Facing it means facing up to a loss that he can’t even comprehend right now. Basically, he just doesn’t know what the hell he wants. Or needs.”
I still didn’t feel like any part of his explanation justified trying to push my way back in, when Torch was so firmly rejecting me, but the door crashed open just then, and Reacher cursed as he lurched up from his seat.
“Nobody fucking knocks anymore!”
“Grace, thank fuck! I thought I’d missed you.” I turned to see Torch in the doorway, and my heart leapt at the sight of him. Please be here to encourage me back. Please be here to tell me you still love me and want me.
“Babe, why are you here with the Pres? I thought you were leaving.”
Oh .