Page 17
17
MERCY
P aisley looks down at me, not saying a word. I wait for her to say something about the shit I just rambled on about like a fucking dumbass.
“I’ll be cautious and only talk with Charlie. When are you leaving?” Her voice is soft, even a touch afraid.
“As soon as Rhino gets the trip mapped out, approval from other business associate for us to pass through their towns, and the shipment is ready. Could be an hour or it could be several,” I tell her honestly.
She nods and looks away. “I’m going to go get all the bedding and then I’m going to lie down while you’re here. Wake me when you go to leave so I can move back to the tub. Until the door is fixed, I won’t sleep in here.”
Smirking at the fact she just admitted to feeling safe with me causes the two parts of my soul to war. The monster that likes her and is starting to respect her is happy that we’re finding a way past her defenses and earning her trust. The other side of me that is new and I’m not sure I like a whole lot, is satisfied and content with her being happy. Shaking my head, I stand and go into the bathroom to grab the bedding from the tub and toss it on the bed, then I head to the door.
“Get some rest. No one will come in here and bother you while I’m here. I’ll check in when I go to leave,” I tell her.
“Mercy,” she calls out, and I glance back at her with a raised brow in question. “Be careful out there,” she finishes softly.
Her words are like a balm to my tattered soul. I rub at the ache that is once again in the center of my chest and give her a nod in acknowledgment. I think over her words, trying to remember the last time someone seemed to genuinely care if I was safe or not. I make it back into the great room to find Blitz talking quietly with Charlie, who does not look happy at all. Raider and Terro are sitting at Raider’s usual spot, heads close together and not looking happy.
Taking a seat across from them, I immediately start talking. “I don’t like this. Something fucking stinks like a setup.”
Terro smiles, shaking his head. “I was just telling Raider the same thing. It’s a little too convenient that a club blows up, a survivor is left, and Pres gets a call for an emergency load that needs all but three of us to escort it to fucking Bumb-fuck-nowhere.”
“Definitely makes me itchy,” Raider states. “Just know I called our brothers that have clubs across all the states we’ll be passing through. I also had Rhino reach out to Bull in South Dakota to see if we can stay a couple of nights there before we head back.”
I sit up straight. “We’re fucking going to fucking South Dakota? Raider, this is a setup. We’re not meant to make it back.”
“I know Mercy. I have a plan. Let’s get on the road and at the first stop to pick up the load I’ll explain everything. Too many eyes and ears here.”
I give him a nod, standing to go get some shut-eye before we make this fucking trip. Fucking hell, two fucking weeks I’ll be gone. I’m leaving my little lamb here with the man I believe more and more is, in fact, a rat. I find the prospects nearly done with hanging the new door. I look at my watch, then back at them.
“That was fast for this time of night,” I state.
Twitch looks up from where he is attaching the new doorhandle. “I grew up in construction. The frame and hinges weren’t in terrible shape, so I just pulled a door from an unused room to have one sooner rather than later. Figured at some point in the next few days, I’ll grab one from the warehouse and fix the trim.”
I give him a nod and lean against the wall, allowing them to finish their job while I scroll through my phone. When they finish up, I dismiss them for the night. As they make their way past me, I grab Twitch’s arm. He stops, tensing and eyeing me closely.
“We’re about to clear out for a minute. I want you to be her shadow. Report anything you hear or see.” I step into his space. “Nothing better happen to her while I’m gone.”
I watch as Twitch processes my words. “Yes, sir,” he finally answers.
As he moves past me, I go into my room, closing the door and making sure it’s locked. Sliding my cut from my shoulders, I lay it on the dresser and toe my boots off. I pull my shirt over my head and toss it on the floor. Before I drop my jeans, I remove my pistol and phone, placing them both on the bedside table. I slide into bed behind my little lamb and pull her onto my chest. She sighs in her sleep, burrowing deeper into me.
It usually takes me a good hour to shut all the shit off in my head and get some sleep. Even that is usually sporadic since the chaos inside of me never seems to calm. That was before now, before this woman threw up on my boots and burrowed into my soul.
The question now is, will it all blow up? Will she be like everyone else in my life or will I finally get to hold on to the light forever?
* * *
We’re two and a half days into the longest fucking ride when it all hits the fucking fan. Out of nowhere, we’re ambushed by the fucking Cartel and nearly lose Terro and Blitz in the altercation. They are alive only because we were expecting something like this to happen. We’re able to hold on to the load of guns we were transporting across country for the Italians. Raider reached out to the Italians and had them send back up so we could send the two injured and Remedy to our brother’s club house about five hours from us in South Dakota to get patched up.
When we all pull into the delivery spot and see the Italian’s number two leaning against the blacked-out SUV, we know something isn’t right. We pull in and park next to the SUV, dismounting to take stance behind our VP.
“To be honest, we thought when your Pres called and said you had been ambushed that this was a wash,” Giaco’s bored tone gives nothing away to his annoyance at being given false information.
The fuck? We haven’t even contacted Pres about the ambush. Even if Bull from the South Dakota chapter called Pres with an update, it wouldn’t have given Giaco enough time to get here from Atlanta. Blender and I both tense, ready to cover Raider if shit goes sideways.
“Oh, well, you know how it is. You don’t fuck with the Kings and live to talk about it,” Raider plays it off as if it’s nothing.
He pulls Giaco into a man-hug, talking quietly in his ear. When they pull apart, Giaco doesn’t look surprised at whatever Raider said.
“It appears a meeting with the Don is in order,” Giaco states, then turns to yell something in Italian to his men.
“You let me know when you’re ready,” Raider calls to him. “Let’s load up and roll out.”
Giaco gives a wave as we leave before turning and pulling his phone out of his pocket, no doubt calling his boss to let him know something isn’t right within the club. The last five hours to the South Dakota chapter’s clubhouse seem to take years off my life. We roll in, greeted by what looks to be the start of a party.
Bull meets us in the parking lot. “Welcome brothers. Head out to the back, grab a beer, and get settled. Raider, let’s talk.”
Bull pulls Raider into the clubhouse and the rest of us make our way around back and join the rest of our brothers. Looking around, I find Blitz and Terro talking to other brothers. Being the ass I’m known for, I just give a head nod to them before addressing Terro and Blitz.
“You boys good?” I ask.
“Yeah, mine was a through and through of the thigh. Going to make riding home a right bitch,” Blitz groans, taking a long drink of his beer.
“Mine was a graze across the cheek. Bleeds like a bitch, but nothing that won’t heal. How did the drop go?” Terro, ever our Sergeant-at-Arms, finishes.
“Things are just as we thought and the Italians aren’t liking it,” I state, being sure to keep it vague while in their clubhouse. We do not want to bring them into our shit unless we need to.
“For tonight, let’s just take a break.” Blitz’s lazy smile is in direct contrast to the tightly wound man we’ve been dealing with the last few months. “We can worry about the shit at home when we get back.”
Smirking at him, I nod before turning to get myself a beer and something to eat. A collective gasp comes from behind me, and I turn, eyeing the men.
“Shit, Remedy was right. You can look like something other than an angry bear.” Terro chuckles.
Flipping them the bird, I walk away before I punch someone just because I can. After grabbing my beer, I make my way back over to my brothers and punch Terro in the thigh as I walk by, being sure to put some force behind the hit.
“Fuck you, motherfucker,” he growls.
Smirking at him, I flop down into the chair. “Who smiling now, asshole?”
Terro grins and shakes his head. After that, the party ramps up and we have a fantastic couple of days with our brothers in South Dakota before making the grueling haul home. I’ve kept in constant contact with Twitch, and he says that everything has been fine until last night when my little lamb suddenly closed in on herself and refused to come out of her room. I don’t know what happened, but the monster inside of me is pushing us to get back and fix whatever it is.