Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Jock’s dead.”
“Shit. Look, before what happened to Ally, Reacher got a call from Jock. He said he had something important to talk to him about, and when he said it related to the problem within the club, it was clear that he knew something. He didn’t want to say over the phone, because of the possibility of ears overhearing, but he arranged to meet with Reacher this morning. They were going to be meeting at a coffee shop about a mile from here.”
Our saboteur had struck again, this time killing a fucking brother, a former member of the club. Once a member, always a fucking member. He killed one of us.
Of course, if he’d snuck back another way, this would prove nothing, right? Instead it proved two things. Two heads were missing.
missing.
“You’re keeping that quiet, right?”
He watched my shoulders slump and shook his head. “I don’t mean that it isn’t great news, doc. I just mean while there’s some asshole trying to hurt people we care about, that’s all. I’m glad Torch won you over at last. I knew he was hot for his doc.”
That was the second warning I’d had about my safety from people other than Torch. Maybe I should be listening to them, instead of stubbornly clinging to this idea of being with another bad boy, even if he did seem to be the most decent bad boy I’d ever met.
Bad Boy by Miami Sound Machine
“There’s nothing in your notes aside from the surgery, and your injuries from your accident, no. Is there something you’ve been worrying about?”
“I’ve just been noticing some symptoms lately that don’t make sense, that’s all. I figured maybe they might have seen something in there that could be bad.”
“Don’t worry about that, babe. Everything’s under control, yeah? Focus on getting better, so we can get back to our lives.”
Nineteen
Torch
One of them was that dumb fuck, Rocket, who I warned about sneaking off to rub one out with his girl, but we still had to follow it through, because of the risks to the club.
Tommy, our fucking bartender and chef. Nobody had any record of him leaving the night before, even the guys on the gate, and that was disturbing, because our camera also didn’t show him using the killer’s secret escape point.
“At what point do we go from wondering if he’s the bad guy, to wondering if he’s in a fucking ditch somewhere?”
What are you wearing?
Bossy doc: Nothing right now. What?! Fuck me, way to give me a semi with three little words.
“We have a camera blackout at the utility entrance. It was out for almost ten minutes last night.” What the fuck.
Grace
Not knowing was so hard. Not being able to just call him up and ask questions even harder. The trouble was though that we hadn’t really even had a chance to discuss what was happening with us, to define it. Was I his girlfriend? A fuck buddy? A passing fling? Someone to fuck a few times? It was really hard to know what boundaries existed between us, when I had no idea what was actually happening between us.
I definitely had strong feelings for him, and I was fooling myself if I didn’t think that started the first time I set eyes on him. I’d rebuffed his advances that first time around, and the second time, to see him coming into the hospital unconscious, suffering from a severe stab wound, and life-threatening blood loss, was such a shock to the system. I’d been so afraid I wouldn’t be able to save him. That I wouldn’t be able to see him or hear that snarky voice of his again.
Twenty
Torch
I was glad I wasn’t Stitch, or even Ryder, because I didn’t want to be the poor bastard in charge of resolving this shit. As it approached early evening, Tommy was still nowhere to be found, with a few of the other prospects picking up the slack in the kitchen, and we’d found that the camera on the utility door had been tampered with more than just last night.
Grace
“Fuck that, if it wasn’t about your safety, I’d be sneaking out for sure. One of my club brothers is missing, and we’re coming up empty on what’s happened to him.”
“You think he figured something out? Or maybe suspected someone, and they had to get rid of him.”
“Fuck. That’s a good point, and I don’t know if we’ve even thought that far into it. I think we’re all still reeling from the fact that this fucker killed Jock, and might have killed Tommy too, and even worse, that if it’s Tommy doing it then, well-”
“Yes, and skilled hands,” I said quietly, wanting to hear him chuckle or laugh.
“Definitely need a bit of a check up, doc. I’ve got parts that need those skilled hands.”
Slowed Hands by Hannah Trigwell
A sound downstairs made me freeze, as I tried to work out if what I heard was in this house, or coming from next door. Everything that was going on had me so jumpy now. Did I just imagine it, or was there someone in my house?
Twenty-One
So I was a bit messy, so what? Oh well, except for the fact that I’d fallen for a woman who’d go into a fucking anxiety attack if she saw this. For once, I felt shame for how messy I’d become. When the hell did I start just leaving shit everywhere?
“There was some disturbing shit on there, man. Not just bookmarked pages with the most violent fucking porn you can imagine, but uh… notes. Details. About all of us. About… uh…”
“He’s been tracking everyone’s movements. There were detailed schedules of our comings and goings.”
“He had your doc flagged as a potential lover, along with her work address.”
I snorted, but something deep in my chest wasn’t eased by her message. Did it sound like her? Was I just imagining that maybe it didn’t? Was I freaking myself out for no fucking reason?
The bedding was dragged halfway across the floor, and there was a glass on the floor, with a red splotch beside it, which I fucking hoped was wine, and no sign of my woman. Jesus fuck. I couldn’t breathe all of a sudden. My lungs were trying to expand, but no air was getting in, and my heart felt like it was about to fucking explode from the panic.
I shoved past Ryder, running down the stairs so fast I nearly broke my fucking neck. I reached the kitchen, just as the door crashed open and a bloody, sobbing Grace slammed right into me, immediately wrapped in my arms. “Babe, Jesus fuck! RY! She’s here!”
Grace
Do I ring Torch or the police? Idiot! I dialled 999, and just as I hit the button to make the call, there was a thud in my doorway, a low growling sound, and someone crashed into me, hard.
“Slut,” he hissed as he slapped me, and grabbed my throat, trapping me between his hard body and my carpeted floor.
“Was gonna fuck you before I kill you, but now I’ll have to hurry. That’s your fault for calling the fucking police, bitch.”
A chance move got my leg just in the right place, and my knee connected with his testicles as hard as I could manage. His breath rasped out of him, and he cursed, as his grip on my throat loosened, and he rolled away from me.
He’d find me. He’d find me and hurt me. He’d rape me. He’d kill me.
I heard him when he made it out to the garden, roaring out that he’d find me and kill me, but suddenly he yelled the word ‘fuck’, and I peeked around the shed just in time to see him running back inside.
My face hurt, my throat and neck really hurt, and I felt like I’d been hurt all over, rather than just the places he’d hit me.
That I was trying to manifest him, because I was terrified and needed him, but it happened again, and a second voice called out too. Not the bastard who’d attacked me. Torch sounded more frantic with every call, and after several long minutes of telling myself to get my ass in there and let him help me, I finally found I could move, so I did exactly that. I ran.
“You’re safe, babe, I’ve got you.”
Safe by itssvd
Twenty-Two
Torch
Fuck me, I thought I’d lost her. I thought he’d fucking killed her, and even now, holding her trembling form in my arms, I could barely believe it. Panic and rage were warring with each other, and I had to fight not to squeeze her tighter, to fucking embed her so deeply in me that she could never be in danger again. So I could protect her, by surrounding her with me, and never letting anything bad happen to her.
