Page 11

11

MERCY

S tepping into the hallway, I release all the air from lungs and roll my shoulders before adjusting my rock-hard cock. Fuck. The idea of taming the fire in Paisley is going to keep me in a constant state of needing to fuck. The sound of music and loud voices catch my attention. Making my way down the hall and into the great room, I take in who all is here.

I find Raider sitting at the bar talking with Hermes. The look on his face tells me that whatever they’re talking about isn’t good. I start across the room, needing a stiff drink and maybe another fight. When I make it to the bar, Charlie gives me a bright smile and makes her way over to me.

“You want your usual?” she asks me.

I give her a nod as I take the stool next to Raider. He eyes me over his shoulder before going back to Hermes. Charlie hands me my Scotch and beer before making her way down the bar to Pope and Remedy, who are laughing with a couple of club bunnies looking to warm their beds for the night. Shaking my head, I grab my beer, getting ready to find a corner to sit in and be left the fuck alone when a hand lands on my arm. Tensing for a fight, I look down and find a tattooed hand, following it up to find Raider still talking to Hermes.

“Is there a fucking reason you’re holding onto my arm?” I snap. The feeling of him grabbing me making my skin crawl.

Raider turns to me, speaking low. “Do me a favor and find a table in a corner. I need to talk with you about a couple of things.”

Now he has my attention and curiosity. “Is this something we should take to a more private area?”

“Not right this second. Just take a seat and I’ll be over when I’m done here,” Raider states, letting me go and turning back to Hermes.

Something about his demeanor causes my internal monster to perk up. I swallow the words that want to come out of my mouth and do as my VP has asked me to do. Turning, I find my favorite table. It sits in the corner slightly behind the stages where the entertainment entertains. It’s truly the only table that has a corner and I can see all the exits from, not to mention there isn’t a way for someone to walk up on me without me knowing it. Nursing my beer, I lean back into the chair and watch as the bunnies dance. Just as I throw back the last of my Scotch, Roxy drops between my knees and runs her hands up my thighs.

Placing the glass in my hand on the table to her left, I grab hold of the hair at the back of her head. “I do not recall giving you fucking permission to fucking touch me.” Using my hold on her hair, I pull her head back to the point she cries out. “I’ve already told you fucking once. Do not fucking touch me without permission.”

I let her go abruptly, causing her to fall back onto her ass just as Raider walks over. He steps over her to take a seat next to me. Roxy glares at me before turning her pout to Raider.

“Do you see what he does to me?” She is trying to play innocent, only looking like an overgrown child throwing a tantrum.

Raider sneers down at her. “Exactly what do you expect me to fucking do? We all know that Mercy doesn’t play well with others. Fuck, we all know he and Blender barely tolerate any of us. Be happy that all you got from this little interaction was you sitting on your ass. Run the fuck along and find a prospect that doesn’t know any better.”

Sitting in silence, we watch as Roxy bounces around the room, finally landing on Pres’s lap. Sneering at the two of them my gut is screaming there is something more going on here.

“That bitch needs to go,” Raider complains while scrolling through something on his phone.

“That’s a fucking fact,” I agree with him, still watching the two of them trying to work out if Pres is that fucking drunk or if I’m missing something.

“Careful brother, your disdain is showing.” Raider smirks when my head snaps up to look at him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I wave a prospect down, telling him to grab us some more drinks.

“It is no secret to anyone that pays attention that the only reason you and that ticking time bomb of a brother of yours haven’t taken that man out is because you respect me.” Raider’s tone is matter of fact, not at all portraying what he truly thinks about the situation.

I tip my head slightly at Raider. “He’s Pres at the moment, and I respect you. That’s what we have to offer.”

“Fucking hell,” Raider groans, dropping his head onto the back of the couch we’re sitting on. “Something is going on in the club and it’s not good.”

Eyeing the men in the room, I try to pinpoint what he could mean. My mind's eye always comes back to Pres and his very small group of close brothers.

Deciding to see what he’s willing to tell me, I do what I do best. “Shit Raider, we’re a one-percenter motorcycle club. We run drugs for assholes, cleanup and frame dumb asses, and send people on a once in a lifetime boat ride they never seem to come back from. Nothing we do is good.”

Raider glares at me, waiting for the prospect to leave before continuing. “What I mean is there are holes in the club and we’re letting things slip out and allowing others to slip in.”

Understanding lands like a blow to the chest. “We have future fertilizer close?”

“I would say so. I’ve got a couple of brothers I trust working on things,” Raider starts, but I cut him off.

“Why the fuck are you telling me? We all know that the only reason Blender and I are Enforcers and officers is because our willingness to cross that line society has put in the sand is easy. Hell, we don’t even fucking see it.” Throwing a hand toward the room. “None of these fuckheads truly trust us not to fucking lose it.”

Chuckling, Raider takes a pull off his fresh drink. “In a lot of ways, you’re not wrong about that. More brothers trust you and Blender than you realize because even though you’re morally black and have a hair trigger, you’re loyal to those who show you they deserve it. Now, for the reason I’m telling you.” All the humor leaves his face when our eyes meet. “I’m giving you a heads-up because I believe it has something to do with our mysterious sex ring and your little lamb. Stay vigilant and stay you.”

I don’t get the chance to reply before Sunny slides onto Raider’s lap. He instantly places a kiss on her shoulder before settling her into his chest. I take another pull of my beer, looking out over the clubhouse as the brothers get drunker and the music gets louder. We may be dysfunctional and hard on each other, but in some fucked up way we’re family and having someone harm the family, well, they better make sure to get us all in one fail swoop.

I’ve never believed in revenge being best served cold. I serve it on fucking fire and swiftly.

“Let me know what and who,” I say before standing and making my way out of the clubhouse to my bike.

I need some space and time to fucking think. Between the shit with Jenny, the sex ring, the bomb Raider just dropped on me, and our little lamb … I feel as if things are starting to close in around me. I need a good long ride and maybe even a good fucking fight to clear the static building in my head. As I pull out of the parking lot, I turn my bike for the shitty part of town, deciding that a fight is exactly what I need. Riding through Savanah, taking in how things go from modern to old world, then feeding into the gritty shack housing and run-down manufacturing buildings revitalized after the last hurricane, I find the one dive that will give me the fight I need.

Dropping my kickstand, I stand stretching my back before pulling the keys from the engine. I slide them into the pocket of my cut as I make my way toward the warehouse. The man standing at the door gives me a narrowed look before turning to the man beside him.

“You got here fast for a man that is supposed to be on the other side of the port,” he sneers as he pushes the door open for me to enter.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” I snap back, not in the mood for these assholes.

“That monster you call a brother has nearly killed every fighter we put up against him.” He shakes his head. “Boss is fucking pissed because we’ve lost several of our best fighters and a shit ton of money.”

Unable to hide my sneer from the man, I lean in close, speaking slowly. “Sounds like your boss is a dumbass if he let my brother into the ring unchecked. Now, I’ve got to go and cleanup his mess.”

“You’re all just a bunch of fucking assholes with no morals,” he snaps back as I make my way through the door and into the belly of the beast.

The crowd is loud and thick. The scent of adrenaline, lust, and alcohol hangs heavy in the air. Fighting my way through the crowd is like fighting the undertow of the ocean. As I get closer to the makeshift ring, the excitement and frenzy of the fight grows to a crescendo. Finally laying eyes on Blender, I flinch at the sound of snapping bone when his fist connects with the man’s face. Blood sprays the front row of spectators who cheer even louder. I would be less concerned if Blender gave acknowledgment to them, yet the fact he is completely focused on the man in front of him tells me I might just have to put him down to get him out of here.

Making it to the ring, I yank the door open and step in just as the badly beaten man falls to the nasty, cracked concrete floor. I catch the attention of the very pissed off monster still standing. Holding my hands out wide from my body, I watch him closely. Knowing and expecting the strike from the cornered and pissed off serpent in front of me.

“Blender, you centered?” I question, watching every twitch and movement of his muscles.

He throws his head back, letting loose a laugh so chilling that the crowd goes silent. Blender throws his arms out wide, spinning around before looking me in the face, quirking an eyebrow.

“You steeped in the ring. Does this mean you’re finally fucking ready?” he goads.

Cracking my neck from side-to-side to loosen up the tight muscles, I shrug off my cut and hang it on the side of the ring. Before I turn around, I pull my phone from my pocket, texting the group chat for the club.

Me: Might want to get down to the warehouse. Just stepped into the ring with Blender.

Blitz: Fuck me … Have you two finally fucking lost it?

Remedy: I’m too fucking drunk for this.

Raider: sending prospects and a cage. They’ll let us know who lives.

Smirking, I shake my head as messages continue coming in from other brothers. Some even take bets on who will win. I turn back to Blender and pull my shirt over my head, dropping it on the concrete at my feet.

“Let’s get this shit fucking done, brother.” I bring my hands up in front of my face.

“I’ve been fucking waiting for this day. You won't win this one.” Blender tilts his head to the side, balling his hands up at his side.

Relaxing into my fighting stance, I let go of the monster inside of me, getting ready to fight the only other person on this planet that I give a damn about. This fight will be a careful balance of staying alive while at the same time I bring the insane to heal.

“Let’s see if you have it in you to teach me fucking something!” I barely get out as Blender launches his assault on me.

We clash like two lions fighting for the title of king.