Page 53 of Rolling 75 (The Noire Brothers #1)

RYKER

“I ’m leaning toward not letting you go to court tomorrow.”

Mercy has her bench trial for Everett Floros in the morning. And the last place I want her to be is anywhere outside of La Lune Noire.

Axel and I have been reviewing the seven men who were in a confidante group with Theo Trafton. There are a couple of routes we could take with it. One that seems to be promising. But Axel and I share opposing ideas on how to approach it.

We’ll figure that out, but I can’t put off this conversation any longer.

Mercy stands near the threshold of my office, arms crossed over her chest beneath her gorgeous, albeit scowling, face.

After a long day of preparing for her case and handling some issues for Axel, she’s in relaxed attire—tiny terry-cloth shorts, showing off her shimmery legs, and a loose sweatshirt, hanging off one shoulder. Utterly radiant.

At her silence, I toss my dice onto my desk, irritated when a four and two pop up as I broaden my explanation.

“I’ve filled you in, shown that I trust you with handling all of this.

So, we need to be diligent. I’ll address it with the judge, and Everett will be taken care of.

But with Trafton dead and the fraudulent email about you and Remy, it’s not safe for you to be away from the resort. ”

A saccharine smile coasts up her cheeks.

“Respectfully, fuck that.” She throws her arm back to our room—ours because she’s been in my bed for a week now—and the site of the champagne baptism.

“We left it all behind, right? And I signed a damn contract. Regardless of how you’ll take care of it, abandoning a client the night before his bench trial will be career suicide for me—outside of what I’m assigned here.

And I get it. I’m a lifer. Noire lawyering is what I do now and forever.

But I have to feel like I’m earning my reputation.

I have to be challenged. No, I made a commitment, and if I start hiding again … I can’t.”

Axel chuckles. He’s lounging in one of my leather armchairs, and he told me she’d say that. I knew she would too. I’m just conflicted. Primarily because she’s been fighting.

I’ve seen how, every day, she has to make a conscious choice to be here, to want more, to let the past go. To lean into us and the joy she feels. This week, we’ve felt like a family—her, Remy, and me. And my brothers for that matter.

We’ve watched movies, played games, shared meals, and as I mentioned, she’s been in my bed.

There are no words to describe how life-altering it is to wake up beside her, especially on the mornings Remy is our alarm.

For a few minutes, with them in my arms, all is right in the world.

It’s been amazing, a dream come true for me.

I know she feels that, too, but it’s a battle for her not to let her dark past pull her back under.

The only way she gets off that battlefield is to conquer her demons one day at a time. I don’t want to stifle that. But the methods to shield her physically and those to protect her emotionally are at war with one another.

“It won’t reflect poorly on you,” Axel assures her. “I can have one of our other lawyers stand in. Hadyn looked over Everett’s case with you. I was planning to send him for co-counsel anyway.”

“I hear that. Part of me even thinks that’s a good idea.

” She roams farther into the room, bracing herself on the back of a chair, her fingers weaving into her hair with exasperation, until she shakes her head, resolved.

“But that’s all rooted in fear. I’ve been running for years.

Looking over my shoulder in a town where I had nothing to drive me.

Terrified to return to the place I loved.

I ran so I’d be safe, but it was a prison I was slowly dying in.

And now I’m here, and you want me to keep hiding. It feels like losing all over again.”

White oak and screams.

A pang of failure pummels me. I told her I wanted to be the man to build her back up, and I’m about to be the one to break her.

“La Lune Noire has everything you need. You could stay here for years without getting bored. And your community here is vast. Friends, coworkers, family. It’s not the same. ”

Her chest rises with what appears to be a cleansing inhale, but serenity is lacking on the exhale.

She grips the chair, knuckles blanching.

“It’s not about that. The location doesn’t matter.

It’s about the asshole who stole everything from me still calling the shots, even from the damn grave.

That’s the prison. Every time I change course because of Dalton or something related to him, it’s defeat. ”

She hangs her head, and I fucking shatter. I chance a look at Axel, and he dips his chin, as if to remind me we have another way. One that could acclimate her to not merely being on my arm, but also being part of our business. And, hopefully, it will enable us to put all this behind her.

Maybe she senses my resolve waffling because she lifts her chin after a long beat with an expression that is downright lethal. “I’m either the queen by your side or a prisoner in a bell tower, but I can’t be both.”

She always knows how to cut me off at the knees.

“Okay. Have a seat. We have a second option.” I wait while she settles into the chair, relishing the way her brown doe eyes brighten. “You handle Everett’s case, and afterward, we meet Emma and Bryce for dinner.”

Her gaze ping-pongs between Axel and me. “What am I missing?”

“Bryce Wakeford is lawyer shopping.”

“And?” She tilts her head, skepticism painting her features.

I hesitate. This whole plan is half-cocked, but it’s our best shot. Though I can already hear her objections.

Regardless, I forge ahead. “Trafton died with something important to tell me. He’d had a group of seven others that he met with weekly and confided in.

I’m hoping he told them whatever it was or left some clues.

The thing is, out of those seven, I have a relationship with four.

Two of them are in The Order, and I don’t want to go that route because it seems tied to this somehow.

Another is the cousin of the guy who committed the act of violence the night we attended the rooftop party and had to be dealt with , so the timing isn’t the best to reach out for a favor.

And the last is Bryce Wakeford. He’s not connected , but we have an in through Emma. ”

She squints her eyes in what seems to be annoyance. “This is like junior high. I recognize that, and I never even attended a physical school. You want me to have Emma convince her fiancé to tell you what Trafton was upset about? Why don’t you just ask him? Or do you have plans with Axel at recess?”

She sticks her tongue out at the end of that to convey that her playground snark is in jest. And that teasing side of her has adoration coursing through my veins.

I just want to put all this shit behind us and live our goddamn life.

But she isn’t wrong. It’s a winding road to get to where we want to be.

My non-junior-high method would be to torture the man and his six confidantes, but I think she’d be opposed. Especially because we’d have to kill them when we were done. Sharing that won’t sell this idea any better though, so I stick to laying out the plan.

“Maybe we’ll meet under the bleachers after school, and I can show you what you missed.

” I wink and drink in the blush that creeps up her neck.

“I want you to represent him—or offer to. He’s got a case waiting to be scheduled, one that Trafton would have covered.

He might already have someone stepping in, but if we get to him quickly, there’s a chance.

I’ll get it in front of Judge Nicholson and assign another lawyer to it with you.

It’ll be an easy win, but that way, if we need to pull you, he’ll be covered.

Bryce will be indebted. I’ll offer him a membership here in exchange for everything he knows on Trafton and anyone else for that matter. ”

She sighs, formulating the proper phrasing for the objections I know are coming.

“I’m not opposed to representing him. I’d like to know what the case is first. But it feels deceitful to be doing it with an ulterior motive.

Why use Emma or the case as an in? He’d probably cooperate for the membership. ”

“Maybe.” I roll my dice, still not getting my seven and five.

“But I’ve been turning this guy away for years.

If I go straight to him, I’m showing all my cards.

He’ll know I’m desperate, and that could backfire.

It has to be organic. We’ll meet for a casual meal.

You’ll convince me in front of them that you should take his case.

I’ll give in, and then we’ll be on an even playing field. ”

Axel and I exchange a glance because we suspect what’s coming.

We also spoke about this. His position is firm that if she’s going to be my partner, she needs to come to terms with certain aspects of what that means.

He’s not out of line. I’m just so gone for this woman that the thought of her thinking ill of me hurts.

Her brown embers pierce both of us with the confidence of a warrior—my Viper. “And if he fucks up, tips someone off, or …”

No sense in overcomplicating this. “He will be treated as a member.”

She presses, needing more. “And if members don’t cooperate or if they narc on you—”

“On us,” Axel corrects on autopilot, attention directed at his personal roulette.

“On us.” She pins him with a glare. “What is the consequence?”

Axel lifts his sapphires from his spinning Casino Tourbillon watch, not bothered in the least about revealing our practices. “Elimination.”

Her head whips back to me, arms flailing everywhere with her protest. “I can’t. Emma doesn’t want any part of this life. She was happy you’d turned Bryce away.”

I focus on dropping and catching my dice, which soothes me like a game of jacks did when I was a kid, easing my anxiety so I don’t snap. “You aren’t responsible for that. He wants this. He’s a grown man. You’re helping him. End of story.”

“You two are so out of touch sometimes.” She rubs her temples as though we’re giving her a migraine. “This feels like I’m being a bad friend to her.”

Abandoning my childlike habit, I straighten my spine. “What would being a good friend entail, keeping her and her fiancé away from us?”

Her eyebrows arch for the ceiling. “Probably.”

Axel huffs a humorless chuckle, but I wave him off. I need to be the one who addresses this.

“Merce, if you don’t want to hide from your life, then open your eyes.

This is it.” I circle my index finger around the palace she’s calling home, built by the men she adores, on the soil of morals she struggles with.

“We’re your home, your safe place, your family.

So, it’s one or the other. No cases and locked down in your bell tower .

Or two quick ones so we can get a fucking handle on this.

I believe in you as my queen, but would prefer the lockdown. Say the word, and I’ll slam the cell.”

She bites her lip and says nothing. And Axel and I wait. We’ll work with whatever she decides.

Her hand presses into her sternum as the full scope of her current reality dawns on her. “If I don’t do this, you’re going to torture someone to figure out what the hell is going on. Aren’t you?”

“It’s a strong possibility,” I answer, and Axel smirks.

She rolls her eyes with a huff as she rises. “Deceitful queen it is. I’ll text Emma now.”