Page 5
5
MERCY
T he gavel slams on the table when Hermes finally takes his seat at the table with his laptop in front of him. The sound of fingers drumming on the table makes me feel as if someone is trying to poke needles into my brain. I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest and glance at Blender, who is rubbing his hands up and down his legs, trying to rein in his mounting anger at the unnecessary noise. Looking around the table, I realize Blitz is drumming his fingers on the table, giving away the fact he has stuff going on. Blender’s hands ball into a tight fist, alerting me he’s about to lose it completely.
“Yo, Blitz, if you want to keep that hand attached, you might want to cut that shit out,” I bark at my brother.
His head snaps up, meeting my eyes. “Fuck you, Mercy.”
I arch an eyebrow in surprise as the mild-mannered man seems to fray at the edges. We don’t say anything for a long moment until Pres comes storming through the door with Raider hot on his heels, both wearing the same look of murder.
“How the fuck did we miss a motherfucking sex ring being run by the fucking Cartel on the edge of our fucking territory? I know for a goddamn fact that we have men patrolling that edge of the territory as it butts up to the motherfuckers,” Pres growls.
No one says a word. Pres takes his seat, his anger still coming off him in waves. I watch all the men, looking for any sign that someone knew something, but kept quiet. My eyes scan each man and realize Pres looks stressed, the lines around his eyes more prominent than normal.
Raider, our Vice President, is kicked back with his usual no-care attitude. That man is the only one that can seem to pull my monster to heel. Terro, our Sergent-at-Arms, is sitting to his left, his usual scowl in place. Token, our Treasurer, is to my left and next to Relic and Raider, he’s the oldest member of the club. Blitz, our Road Captain, is sitting at the end of the table still drumming his fingers.
Rhino, our Tail Gunner, is leaning against the wall, watching all of us ready to step when or if he needs to. Pope, our Chaplain and true secret keeper, sits next to Blitz with his hands steepled over his mouth. Remedy, our Medic, is sitting next to Blender. No one seems inclined to say anything.
“Somebody better fucking start talking before I knock some goddamn heads together,” he snaps, squeezing the bridge of his nose.
“What do you want to know? Some asshole blew up a shit bar on the edge of our territory. We were called in to clean the mess up, only to find that there is a fucking basement where it appears they were keeping people,” Rhino snaps his ever-present glare in place.
Leaning back in my chair, I tap my fingers over my lips as if thinking. “Oh, we found a woman still alive.”
“Does someone want to tell me something I don’t already fucking know?” Pres is so close to losing his shit that I can’t stop myself from poking the bear just a little more.
“I swear to fuck, Mercy, if you don’t shut the fuck up or give some actually new intel, I’m going to take you on a boat ride.” Raider levels his two-toned stare at me.
“As long as it’s at sunset and there is beer.” I smirk, intentionally riling him up.
“Your favorite, followed up with you cuddling a gator or two,” Raider winks.
“Threats are beneath you, Raider.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“If you two fuck heads are done. We need to get to the fucking point of this meeting. If not, I have shit to fucking do today,” Blitz yells, slamming a fist on the table.
Turning to look at him, I narrow my gaze, trying to decide whether he’s stupid or asking to be taken out. Blender—who was already on edge with this man's finger drumming—stands to square up with the man. I sit back in my chair waiting to see how this is going to go, seeing as once my brother snaps, there is no way to stop him because family and friends mean nothing at that point.
When Blender is at full height, fist clenched at his side, ready to unload on Blitz. Brothers move—being sure to not be in the path of the hurricane that’s brewing. The sound of gunfire has all of us ducking and looking around for the fucking threat, only to find Terro with his pistol in the air and debris from the ceiling raining down around him.
“Sit the fuck down and just shut the fuck up unless you have something that pertains to what we’re fucking dealing with.” Terro drops his arm that is holding the pistol but stays on guard.
I debate on stepping in or letting this play out. Deciding to stop this before it goes anymore off the rails, I stand nose-to-nose with Blender.
“Today is not the day you let one of these assholes put you in the ground,” I whisper, eyeing him closely. “Let’s get through this and then we'll blow off some steam either in the gym or with one of your favorite girls at the club.”
Blender watches me closely, battling with what the right decision is. I brace for him to finally decide that today is the day he says fuck it and goes right off the deep end. If that happens, I doubt anyone will walk away still breathing. A subtle nod is all I get before he goes to lean against the wall behind me. I take the small win before turning back to the rest of the men.
Terro finally relaxes, holstering his gun and takes a seat. I take mine, being sure that Blender isn’t directly behind me, just in case.
“Now that all you assholes are done playing my-dick-is-bigger games. I was able to find video of the motherfuckers that may have been responsible for shooting and blowing the place up,” Hermes speaks up, looking up from his laptop.
“The fuck to do you mean may have ?” I barked, feeling the tension in my neck tighten even more, bringing on the start of a headache. Fuck, I need a drink, a good fight, and a good fuck.
Hermes’s eyes snap up to meet mine. “Well, considering that the shack is on the edge of our territory and in the middle of the fucking marsh, the lighting is shit, and the cameras in the area are even fucking worse—but if you feel as if you can do a better fucking job why don’t you come do it.”
“Not a fucking word,” Pres glares pointedly at me.
“As I was saying, since the shack was located on the edge of our territory, there were no cameras in that area. With the cameras I was able to get into and pull images from … this is what we have.” Hermes turns the large TV on behind Pres and starts playing what little he has.
I count ten bikes as they come roaring through. All the men are wearing cuts, but you can’t tell what their colors are. Leaning forward to study the men and the way they ride, I look for anything that might give me any idea who they are. It’s about twenty minutes from the time they pass the camera to the time they come back—followed by a bright burst of light. As the bikes pass the camera, something about one of them catches my attention.
“Hermes, can you stop it and take it back?” I demand harsher than I should, standing to get a closer look at the TV.
“Mercy, what do you see?” Pres questions, watching me closely.
Hermes does as I ask. I watch closely as the bikes pass and I hold my hand up, signaling Hermes to stop the footage on the fourth bike. The gas tank has a skull wearing a crown on fire with two pistols crossed behind it.
Pointing at the screen, I say, “I know that bike. I don’t know from where, but I fucking know that bike.”
Hermes does some typing and then hits play again. I continue watching the footage closely, ignoring everyone else as I go through the catalog in my head of how I know that bike. There is something just out of reach. A presence at my back causes me to stiffen. Glancing over my shoulder, I find Blender trained on the screen where Hermes keeps playing the footage, leaving a thumbnail of the Bike with the emblem at the top right.
“Something about that is familiar,” Blender speaks barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, the question is fucking what though? There’re memories there but they’re just out of reach,” I murmur back, tuning everyone else out just as the chimes go off signaling a door has opened.
“Looks like the little lamb is up and moving,” Hermes chuckles, and the TV switches to our internal cameras.
We all watch as the dark-haired beauty stumbles down the hallway toward the great room. When she makes it to the end, I watch the camera angled directly on her face, watching as it pales when she takes in the room around her. She goes to take a step away from the wall but falls back against it. My chest goes tight as I watch her head leaning back with her eyes closed. Watching her take a deep breath before using the wall to make her way toward the hallway that leads to the offices, the basement, and even an exit.
Before I can think better of it, I’m on the move. My body is humming with the need to hunt.