Page 8
8
AINSLEY
T he hold on my throat loosens just enough for me to turn my head and look back at Mercy. Seeing the look on his face go from shocked to murderous in a flash. I don’t even have a moment to process anything before he has us turned so that I’m against the wall and he is looming over me. I hear the sounds of chairs moving and voices shouting, yet I still can’t look away from Mercy.
His fingers flex around my throat once again, causing the most concerning mixture of feelings to swirl around inside of me. I want to look away and I know that if I do; he wins this game of wills. Mercy’s eyes narrow ever so slightly before he speaks to me.
“What are you hiding, Little Lamb?”
I try to shake my head in denial, but his hold is cutting off my ability to breathe, much less to move.
Mercy leans in close, running his nose along my jaw to my ear, “Just tell us what you’re hiding, Little Lamb. If not, I can think of some very interesting ways to get the information that we need.”
He nips my ear as he goes to pull away, causing a gasp to escape my lips. Mercy leans away from me and loosens his hold enough for me to not feel as if I’m suffocating. “I truly told you everything. So, are you going to kill me now?”
Mercy's cruel laughter cuts through the air. “Not today, Little Lamb. But that’s not to say that it’s not still a possibility. Pres, do you need anything else from our little lamb right now?”
“I don’t think I do, Mercy,” Relic answers him. “Why don’t we have a prospect to take her back to the room while we talk about some things?”
Mercy cocks his head to the side, watching me closely. “Sure, but I want her in my room.”
My eyes nearly fall out of my head at his words. “I can just go back to the room I was in before. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”
“You have two choices: stand here with my hand wrapped around your throat until we’re done or you can follow the prospect to my room and stay there.” Mercy watches me closely when he is done speaking.
I wish more than anything that the filter between my mouth and brain was working. “What exactly am I supposed to do? Sit around and wait for you to decide whether I live or die? That doesn’t sound like a whole lot of fucking fun to me. What about you?”
The grip on my throat tightens to the point it’s nearly painful. “Has anyone ever told you that your mouth is going to get you dead?”
Cocking an eyebrow at his question is my only option with the grip he has on me. We stand that way as black dots slowly dance in my vision from lack of blood flow. That’s when fear overrides my common sense as it finally clicks that this isn’t the first time this man has done this. He could truly kill me before anyone could stop him. Wrapping my hands around his wrist, I try all the self-defense moves I’ve ever been taught with nothing loosening his grip.
“Don’t fight me, Little Lamb,” he leans close, brushing his lips across mine. “I always get what I want.”
All I can do is stand there, my body and mind on two completely different plans of existence.
“Tell me, Little Lamb, what’re you going to do? What would you be willing to do to save your life?” His words are but a whisper across my dry lips.
The black spots have grown, and I know I’m going to pass out or finally get my ticket punched when suddenly, he lets me go completely, and I slide down the wall to sit on my butt. Mercy looms over me, breathing hard, fisting his hands at his side with a look of pure rage on his face.
“Get her the fuck out of here. Fucking NOW!” he roars, throwing a fist at the wall above me.
I pull my knees to my chest, making myself as small as possible, waiting for what I don’t know. A hand latches onto my arm, pulling me away from the man now losing his shit. I’m pulled to my feet and shoved behind someone else as I’m herded toward the door. Mercy continues his assault on the wall before turning on the man that was standing beside us. I watch in shock, fear, and even curiosity as the two giants go to blows and the others step back, not at all trying to stop the fight. Without warning, I’m pushed through the door into the arms of another man wearing a damn cut.
“Take her to Mercy's room. Do not leave the door and do not let her leave,” Terro tells the man.
Finally finding my voice, “What if I need something to eat or drink? What about the bathroom? I can’t just fucking be locked up in this place.”
Terro’s eyes lock on to mine, “You will damn well stay in his room. If you need anything, ask the fucking prospect and he’ll take care of whatever it is. Now, go.”
“I don’t have access to his room, sir,” the man at my back says.
Terro glares at the man before turning back to the room as the fight inside rages on. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys, handing him one. “This will get you in. It comes back to me. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir,” the man says.
I don’t get a word out before the door is slammed in my face. The sounds of fighting can be heard through the door. The prospect turns me away from it, guiding me back down the hallway. When we make it back to the great room, I pause and take in the once quite great room not able to wrap my mind around what I’m seeing. Where there was a quiet empty room earlier, now there are men, barely dressed women, and even someone manning the bar. The music is thumping, and everyone seems to be having a good time.
The man at my back pushes lightly so that I’ll continue walking. I can feel people's eyes on us as we make our way to the hall that leads to the room I started all this in. As we make it there, we pass it and keep walking until we reach the very last door on the right. He steps forward, sliding the key into the lock before pushing the door open. I don’t move to go into the room, my feet feel as if they’re cemented to the floor.
“Do you need anything?” The question is so out of the blue I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it.
The laughter finally subsides and I’m able to talk. “What I need is to go back however many hours ago and never fucking go into that damn bar. So unless you can make that happen, I’m peachy at the moment.”
My stomach chooses that moment to argue with me, growling loudly.
A soft chuckle causes my head to snap around to glare at the man. “I’ll have someone bring you something to eat.”
Defeated, I make my way into the dark room. “Yeah, thanks. I think I’m going to take a nap.”
“Sure thing,” he mumbles before pulling the door closed as he steps out, draping the room in darkness.
I stand there letting the darkness hug me like a blanket while letting my thoughts run away with all the things that could’ve, should’ve, would’ve, but damn well didn’t. I take a shuffling step backward so I can lean against the door, still too chicken shit to turn the light on and take in my new prison. My back makes contact and I sniffle, sinking to my ass and laying my head back against the door. I splay my hands out on either side of me, feeling the floor.
As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I am able to take in a few small details about the room. The bed is directly in front of me, with one side pushed against the wall. What appears to be a dresser is directly to my right with just enough room between it and the foot of the bed to walk. There looks to be a door straight ahead of me. The wall to my left seems to be empty, but then again, it is completely dark, so what do I really know?
“Okay bitch, you see the bed. Get your ass off the floor and get in it. You’ll think better with a little more sleep,” I grumble to myself as I hall my ass up off the floor and shuffle to the bed.
When I make it to the bed and climb up onto it, falling asleep before my head even hits the pillow. I hear the door open at some point, but can’t seem to get my eyes to open before I’m sucked back into blissful nothingness.
Blissful? That’s a joke. In the darkness, I’m stalked and hunted by the ghosts of those I lost to the Reaper. Their screams and pleading words rip another piece of my soul out. The never-ending reminder that nothing and no one is permanent, and no matter how hard you try, you will always disappoint them in the end.
I wake on a gasp as Gloria takes her last breath in my arms. My eyes fly around, trying to register where I am as the dredge of my nightmare falls away. Finding myself still alone, I moan as I try to move my stiff muscles. Throwing my arm over my face, I get a good whiff of my current self and cringe.
“Bitch, you stank,” I mumble to the dark room. The only way to fix this is with a hot fucking shower and some new clothes.
Slowly I pull myself upright, only slightly light-headed this time. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness, and I find that there is a side table with a lamp. I reach over to find the switch and flip it on, hissing at the assault on my eyes from the light. When my eyes adjust, I take everything in. There isn’t a lot on the walls. At the end of the bed, a dresser sits on the wall, with a TV mounted above it and stuffed animals scattered across the top. The wall that I thought had nothing on it has a set of built-in bookshelves along with another door. Next to the head of the bed is another door, and just beyond that sits a desk.
Looking at the bedside table, I find an unopened bottle of water, a bag of chips, and some kind of sandwich. Ignoring everything else, I grab the water, being sure it is in fact sealed, then I open it and take several long pulls on it, trying to satiate the thrust. When the water is gone and my head is a little less woozy, I stand, deciding it’s time to take stock of the room and figure out how the fuck I can get out of here!
I make way over to the dresser, taking in the spare change scattered across the surface. Along with receipts, there are a couple of half-empty cigarette packs, lighters, random nuts and bolts, and even a few stray bullets with not much else. Pulling open a dresser drawer, I find mostly white t-shirts with a couple of dark gray shirts with the club logo on it. Score! Without thought, I pull the shirt up to my face to take in the smell of it, shocked when it doesn’t smell of smoke. It smells like Mercy—spearmint, laundry soap, and a touch of some cologne I can’t place.
Frustrated at myself for acting like a lovesick fool, I get back to my mission of trying to find some kind of shorts, or hell, I’ll even take some boxers. Deciding to try the drawer under the shirts, I do indeed find shorts, only there is no way to make them fit and stay on my body.
“Well damn, maybe the drop drawer would be better.” I mutter, pulling it open to find exactly what I need.
Alright now let’s see what is behind door number one. Shuffling my way across the room to the built-ins, I take in the books on the shelves, surprised that it’s not all trash or playboys.
“Well, looks like he isn’t as dumb as I thought him to be,” I grumble, rolling my eyes because something in my chest loosens knowing this. I avoid looking at anything else and pull the door open finding a closet.
“Door number two, it is,” I huff, praying as I shuffle over to it that I don’t lose steam and cannot actually complete the task at hand.
The door comes open and I look around in shock at the bathroom. I expected nasty and dingy as this is a man’s bathroom in a biker clubhouse. To my left is a double vanity with a large mirror and beautiful black countertops. There is an all-black bath tube that is large enough for me to swim in tucked into the back corner with a matching tiled shower that could fit several very large men beside it, and I’m guessing a toilet tucked behind the wall of the shower. I stand there feeling some indecision over what I want to do. I know taking a bath with a concussion isn’t smart, but the thought of staying on my feet and trying to keep my stitches dry doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest.
“Decision made,” I sigh, shutting the door behind me before grabbing the bottle of manly body soap out of the shower as I make my way to the bathtub.
Turning on the water, I pour way too much of the stuff into the bath, grinning as the bubbles multiply in a hurry. When the water is about halfway up the side of the tub, I strip off my clothes and step in, hissing as all the cuts and scrapes burn as they come in contact with the steaming water. I sink down and lay my head back, just letting the water fill the bath and try to relax just a little.