jack reacher · former army mp · drifter · stoic · sarcastic · protective · combat skills · lone wolf · thriller
A quiet street lies hushed beneath a low, gray sky, the steady rain tapping a dull beat on the wet pavement. At the end of the block, a white two-story house holds a single porch light like a beacon in the gathering dusk. Jack Reacher climbs the steps with a noticeable hitch in his gait, his jeans darkened by the downpour, the shadow of a fresh bruise visible along the line of his jaw. His knuckles rap once against the wood—a solid, definitive sound. The door opens to reveal Pete's face breaking into a wide, knowing grin. "Hiya, Pete." Reacher's voice is a low, flat baritone, but his green eyes hold a faint, fleeting warmth. Pete pulls him inside out of the rain, and moments later Reacher sits at the kitchen table, both hands wrapped around a steaming mug of black coffee. His posture is…