Page 54 of Rolling 75 (The Noire Brothers #1)

MERCY

T hat was almost embarrassingly easy. What is the point of even holding a bench trial if everyone is dirty and the outcome has already been established? I realize winning should make me feel good, but that was pathetic.

My smile is tight, but there nonetheless. “Well, that went smoothly.”

Everett’s dark eyes crease as his lips quirk into a lopsided grin. “This your first case associated with the Noires?”

Nerves akin to when I was a brand-new attorney in my twenties have been crackling in my bones all day.

Weeding through contracts and spearheading plans to adhere to laws for the new resorts—all different based on the states and countries they’re located in—have been one thing.

I thrive there because I can sink into the work, get lost in the legalities necessary for each endeavor.

The research, the loopholes, and the challenges all calm me and busy my brain in a way I’ve craved for years.

But being in front of a judge, having all eyes on me, even if it’s only a few sets, isn’t as invigorating as it once was.

I’m undecided as to whether that’s defeat or self-discovery.

I’m leaning toward the latter. Maybe it’s okay that I prefer to be behind the scenes now.

Still, I’m glad I jumped back in. If I hadn’t, I would have always wondered if I had chickened out because I didn’t feel like that hotshot lawyer anymore, if it was one more piece of me that Dalton had stolen.

Thankfully, it’s the opposite. I did it. I know I could have risen to a much greater challenge. I’m just not into it anymore.

“It is,” I confess since he already knows I haven’t been in the courtroom for a while. “And I feel as though my fight was wasted, but the outcome was favorable, so it’s all good.”

Hadyn—the co-counsel that Axel assigned—packs up his things in a rush. He’s always in a hurry, but he spares us a second before he scurries off. “Don’t let the ease fool you. Mercy would have dominated anywhere. She’s meticulous.”

That’s kind, especially since his schedule is jam-packed enough that this add-on was somewhat of a nuisance. I thank him as he heads to his next appointment.

Everett extends his own appreciation to him before turning back to me and rubbing his neatly trimmed beard with his tatted hand.

“He’s right. Your fierceness was noted. You could’ve kicked any prosecutor’s ass in front of any judge.

So, thanks. I’ll have to thank Ryker too.

He’s intense. Convincing him to let you out of his sight was probably a much harder case. ”

“That’s for sure.” I sling my briefcase tote bag over my shoulder and gesture toward the double doors. “He’s in the hallway. He probably has his ear pressed to the wood.”

Everett falls in step beside me while we head out, humor lacing his voice. “He mentioned that he’d be there on my way in.”

That has me laughing as we venture into the hallway. Two piercing blue eyes land on me before burning a hole into my client.

Everett waves at him and quickly veers the other direction, calling over his shoulder, “She did great. I’d offer to buy a drink to celebrate, but I learned my lesson.”

Ryker shocks me, his amusement ricocheting off the high ceiling and terrazzo floor. He kicks his chin up to Everett before sweeping me into his arms and searing me with a not-so-courthouse-appropriate kiss.

“Fuck,” he murmurs against my lips, his cozy-corruption scent vanquishing the musty historical-building odor. “I missed you.”

I weave my fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck, the irritation about what the rest of our afternoon entails temporarily on hold. “You’re away from me longer most days at the resort. This was only a few hours.” I arch an accusatory brow. “The prosecutor was so amenable .”

He smirks. “He’s a good guy.”

“You’re really playing fast and loose with that interpretation, aren’t ya?”

He pulls back to study me for a beat, those glacial blues meandering all over my face. “That was fucking right.”

“What was?”

“Fast and loose. You used it correctly.” He’s beaming as if my name were just called for an Oscar.

“I win a case, and you’re more excited that I got a phrase correct?”

“You’ve won a fuck ton of cases, Merce. That was expected. You are a brilliant lawyer.”

“But?” I squint my eyes in mock offense at the insinuation.

He tilts his head, lips pinned and at war with a demented grin trying to break free. “Let’s just concentrate on the wins.” He chuckles, towing me toward the front of the courthouse and glancing at his watch. “Look at the time. We’ve gotta go.”

Dismissing his gibe, I shift to our plans. “Speaking of time, let me check and see if Emma texted, and if not, I’ll see if they’re ready early.”

My cell phone is on do not disturb mode because Judge Nicholson is absurdly strict about interruptions. But no texts from Emma came in anyway, so I send her a quick one as we stride to the exit, our shoes casting a resounding click-clack echo.

Since Ryker has ten guards scattered around the courthouse for my protection, one of them meets us out front with Ryker’s Aston Martin Vanquish. As we prepare to slide in, he hops out and gets into another guard’s car to follow us.

Pinpricks of apprehension sting my skin as we get closer to the resort.

I understand that Bryce being a member of La Lune Noire won’t immediately have him committing crimes, but I can’t help thinking about my parents.

My father was a good man, who was part of an organization that did questionable things.

Maybe he didn’t think it was a big deal to fabricate something on the stand.

But I’m guessing the gravity of his choices hit when my mother became a victim.

Maybe that thought is upside down, considering I’m engaged to Ryker Noire—fake or real, I’m not sure since we haven’t discussed that.

Either way, I’ve known who Ryker was since we were teens.

Well, not at first. But after we met at the playground a few times, I finally asked him his last name since it was clear we were going to be friends.

And I understood the gravity of that name even more when my parents’ eyebrows rose and they repeated it slowly. They had a lively discussion about our friendship, but eventually, they let him hang out at our house, which he did. A lot.

After a few months, when it was clear he was sticking around, I was allowed to go to his too. And when his parents died and Ryker told me it was best for me to go away to college and not look back, I think they both knew how devastating the loss was for me and felt it too.

The point of that being, when I returned from college, I knew who I was befriending.

I knew what being close to him meant then, just like I know what it means now.

For me. And I’m choosing it. Because Ryker’s shady lifestyle is a far safer choice for Remy and me than the white picket fence with the governor’s son was.

Emotionally, it’s safer than Sinclair, Canada, ever was too.

But Emma won’t ever feel that way. Forcing her into a life that could have irreparable consequences is deplorable.

I can’t help but wonder if it’s the equivalent of my father falsely testifying on a stand. Maybe that’s a stretch, but he probably justified that action, believed that deceitfulness was acceptable for some reason. Blind to the impending doom it would instigate for so many lives.

“If something happens to Emma because of this—”

“Nothing is going to happen to Emma because you defend her fiancé.” Ryker has one hand on the steering wheel and one on my thigh as he peers at me with lazy charm that is enchanting. And irksome.

“Of course not.” My glare conveys all the acrid aggravation I intend. “I was referring to the endgame.”

“Ahh.” His attention floats back to the road, glancing in the rearview mirror as he changes lanes.

“Well, I might not even offer the membership. It all depends on what he has for me. We don’t give those away for nothing.

He’ll need to deliver. One step at a time.

Everything comes down to risk versus reward.

If he can get us answers about what was bothering Trafton or who the hell could’ve sent that email, then the risks will be worth it because this will all be put behind us.

I’ll even advise him on some security to keep Emma safe if it comes to that. ”

“Okay.” My chest has a two-ton white rhinoceros stomping on it, and yet somehow, every remaining breath in my lungs finds a way to mutate into manic ramblings.

“I just don’t think I could handle it or that we could survive it if something happened to her or even him because of …

I’m trying, and you deserve to have someone by your side who can slide into these situations seamlessly.

I want to be that. You’ve done so much for me.

I don’t even know if I love being in the courtroom anymore.

Although I like the idea of giving it one more go.

And since you’ll set everything up, it’s not like there’s any reason to be nervous about the outcome, I guess.

I just feel really good about us. And stronger than I have in a long time.

Excited for how well Remy is adjusting. And I … if I do this and—”

“Merce, look at me.” He clutches my fidgeting hands, his thumb dusting over my engagement ring and his focus darting between me and the road.

“You don’t have to represent him in court if you decide you don’t want to.

You’re already everything I need, so put that thought out of your head.

One day at a time. Today, we’re just making a connection. ”

“Right. A connection. Okay.”

“And for the record, we can survive anything. We’ve already proven that.” His confidence bleeds through every word, but an uneasy twinge churns in my gut.