Running on Empty (Havoc Motorcycle Club Book 3)

by SE Jakes

  Later that night, Mercy had fucked him in one of the back rooms, over and over, and they’d ended up passing out together.

  He hadn’t wanted to let Linc go. And considering the first time he’d met Linc was after bailing him out of jail post bar fight, as a favor to Rush and Ryker, that was saying something. He never mixed business with pleasure. Not until that night and it was no exaggeration to say that his life had never been the same since.

  Honestly, he’d never expected to have kept his secret forever, but his worst nightmare was knowing that an innocent person had gotten hurt because of him and his connection to the Heathens.

  Again.

  And it had been a nightmare.

  That’s why he was back enforcing. No more fucking nightmares would be created on his watch.

  As they approached, they saw Pagans bikes parked outside. There were sounds of glass breaking inside.

  Tug smiled. “Going to be fun to kick their asses tonight.”

  Mercy couldn’t agree more.

  Linc woke to the sound of his text messages dinging. He grabbed the phone and noted he’d been asleep for maybe three hours or so . . . and that the phone had saved him, because he’d been on the brink of a nightmare. Even now, he shuddered as though the Heathens had just been touching him as he sat up and saw Mercy’s texts.

  He was immediately torn between pleased and concerned . . . because Mercy had promised to tell him shit, and his texts admitted, Found some trouble. At the clubhouse getting a couple of stitches. No big deal. Be home soon.

  Right. Rather than stay here and jump out of his own fucking skin with worry, Linc took his truck, rather than his bike—so he could drive Mercy home—and made the trip down the hill. He found Misha there with Sweet and Mercy, who had a good-sized bandage on his arm.

  “It’s just a small nick from a knife,” Mercy told him before he could say anything.

  “Twenty stitches. Big knife,” Misha corrected.

  “Traitor,” Mercy muttered.

  “Truth teller,” Misha corrected lightly, then told Linc, “He needs to stay here and finish this IV. No riding for two days. And he needs to take these three times a day.”

  “Am I a child who can’t follow directions?” Mercy asked.

  “Yes,” Misha and Linc told him at the same time.

  Misha continued, “I’ll be back to look at the bandage before you leave, and I’ll stop by tomorrow. But if it keeps bleeding, or bleeds more heavily, or if he’s running a fever—”

  “I’ve got your number,” Linc assured her.

  “I’ll be back in twenty.”

  “How’s Tug?” Linc asked Mercy when Misha left.

  “He’s already stitched up. His wrist is sprained.”

  “And Boomer?”

  “He’s been happier, but ultimately he’ll be fine.”

  “Pagans?”

  “Yes, for the most part. They were with some PX guys too, trying to shake down that new bar.” Mercy looked like he didn’t want to say anything further but reluctantly added, “Rumors are that they’re working with a cartel. I can’t confirm that, but Project X was hanging out too close to Shades.”

  “Selling?”

  “I don’t know,” Mercy admitted. “Two nights ago, Vann caught them . . . and you don’t have twenty skinheads in a public park at midnight having a bible reading.”

  “Actually—”

  “You know what I’m saying, smart-ass. But we sent a message. Vann followed them to the border and waited to make sure they didn’t double back. He also planted a tracker on them. We called him to the bar tonight and he stayed to help the owner clean up before he called the police. He’s on his way here now.”

  Linc had to let Castle know this. If he didn’t get involved . . . if he didn’t tell Mercy and Sweet that they needed to watch Havoc’s kids, it would be on his conscience, more than it already was.

  Fuck. He texted Castle quickly, saying, I’ll take the job.

  Castle texted back immediately. Details to follow shortly.

  He thought about mentioning what Rush told him, about how the Havoc kids planned to sneak out this Friday night, but held off until he could tell Castle in person.

  When he looked up, Mercy was staring at him. “Everything all right?”

  “It’s going to be.”

  Mercy smiled. “Take me home, Linc.”

  When they got home, Linc could see that Mercy was tired. He’d taken only half a painkiller but the adrenaline rush was waning. So Linc got him up to bed, and almost as soon as Mercy was out, Linc was too.

  The Heathens were there—Bones and his friends—but instead of grabbing him, they grabbed Mercy and pulled him away, out of Linc’s grasp. Mercy was reaching for him, but the Heathens were stronger . . .

  He heard screams and realized they were his. But still, Linc was caught halfway between dreaming and waking, and Mercy was reaching out his hands to him and Linc couldn’t leave him behind . . . wouldn’t . . .

  “Linc, baby, come on. You’re safe.”

  It took several long moments to process Mercy’s voice—and the fact that Mercy was there with him, holding him. “They didn’t take you,” he murmured, and Mercy frowned. A shudder went through Linc’s body and he realized he was soaked with sweat.

  “You’re safe,” Mercy repeated firmly. “Come on—let’s get you cleaned up.”

  Linc wanted to wash the entire dream away, so he let Mercy help him up and into the shower. Mercy basically held him up, washed him down, and dried him before sitting him down in a chair so he could change the sweaty bedding.

  Finally, Linc was settled back in bed with water. Mercy pulled him close and Linc traced the tats on his biceps and chest like he was memorizing them. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize for that,” Mercy told him fiercely. “If you have to have them, I want to be here to help you.”

  Linc assumed that seeing Mercy hurt, knowing he was patrolling and that a rival gang had stabbed him, was what made the nightmare tonight particularly intense. But dammit . . . “You and I . . . we’re getting closer . . . I thought it would get better.”

  Mercy shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that. We are getting closer, baby. But that’s going to bring things to the surface more strongly. That’s why your nightmares have been getting worse, not better.”

  “Shit. So it’s never going to stop?”

  “Not until we talk about it. We need to talk about what happened to you.”

  “Because we’ve been pretending things are fine?”

  “Because you’ve been trying to prove you’re fine.” Mercy’s tone cut through any bullshit Linc might throw at him. “You’re not, and you won’t be. Not until you talk about what happened to you.”

  “To a shrink?”

  “If you want. I’d prefer you tell it to me,” Mercy admitted and Linc frowned. “I’m the one you’re trying to protect, to hide things from. And that’s not doing you any favors . . . because I know.”

  “If you already know, then . . .”

  “It’s not the same as you talking about it, Linc—you know it. You’re coming back, yes, but your PTSD episodes are going to get worse with every job you do if you can’t try to put what happened in your rearview.”

  “Pretend it never happened.”

  “That’s not possible. But you have to accept that it did and refuse to let it rule your future.”

  Linc wrapped his arms around himself. “Are you over what happened to you? Because Rush told me that, in all the time you’ve been with Havoc, you’ve never committed to anyone.”

  “He’s right.”

  “What did your old MC do to you, Mercy? Is it something you can’t get over?”

  “Heathens took someone I loved. The last person I committed to was someone I also claimed, for his own protection, because he was with me. It was when I was seventeen. Turns out he needed protection from my own MC and my family, which were one in the same.”

  “Because it wa
s a guy.”

  Mercy nodded. “They tried to force me to be something—someone—I’m not. In the end, I took the easy way out and I ran.”

  “That’s not the easy way out. That’s called survival. Live to fight another day, and you did that. You’ve been fighting them ever since. You’re aligned with good people.”

  Mercy nodded. “I know that now. It took a long time. I talked about it with Sweet. I told him everything. Then I changed my name. Picked it as a nice fuck you to my family. I figured the name Mercy fit in a couple of different ways.” He shrugged. “They always said I didn’t fit with them. Didn’t look like them. I heard it my entire life. Bad enough to be considered an outsider in society when you’re with your family, but when you’re not good enough for them, either, it can really fuck you up. But I’ve never been ashamed of what I am or of who I am.” He paused. “Now it’s your turn to talk to me.”

  “How’s this going to help anything?” Linc’s voice was a whispering plea.

  “Because you need to move it out of your head and out here.” Mercy widened his arms. “Share that burden.”

  “Because you do that so well.”

  Mercy sighed. “Cards on the table, for both of us.”

  “I already know your cards, Mercy, and you know mine, so how’s this going to help?”

  “It will, Linc. Because I’m not the one having screaming nightmares.” Mercy’s tone was kind despite his brutal honesty. “Tell me. Now. Tell me your demons.”

  Of course Mercy would order him, because it would make it easier for him to comply. “Please, Mercy . . .”

  “I know you don’t want to tell me. But until you say it—out loud—you’re not going to heal. And trust me, I know what you’re going to tell me, baby. I know, because I saw it happen when I was a Heathen.”

  Linc’s breath caught in his throat as Mercy continued. “Once I knew they had you, I couldn’t wait for anyone else’s plan. Bram was going to trade himself for you, and he would’ve. But it was my turn to step up and do something that I should’ve done years ago. So tell me, dammit. Purge yourself.”

  Linc swallowed hard. “Bones liked to stay close to me. He’s the one I remember most clearly. He’s the one who told me about David. What they did to him.” He didn’t want to do this, talk about it, but fuck, he saw it in his dreams every damned night. “He said it was what Heathens did to their own who were traitors. And they knew you were gay and they tried to fix you, but it didn’t work. And so they were going to show you what they’d do to anyone you touched—that was the best way to torture you rather than just kill you outright.”

  Linc took a long drink from the water bottle next to the bed. He held it, stared at it, even as he felt Mercy’s eyes on him in the dark, and then he continued, his voice halting. “They tied David’s arms and legs to two different motorcycles and they . . .” He pressed his fist to his forehead. “Dammit—don’t make me say it.”

  “Is knowing what happened to David . . . thinking what they’d do to you . . . is that what has you waking up screaming at night?”

  Linc met his eyes. “Yes. But I don’t want to . . . I can’t tell you . . .”

  “I know exactly what they did to him.”

  Linc looked up at him in surprise. “How?”

  “It’s not a secret what Heathens do to their own. Not to another Heathen, anyway, although that’s well hidden. It’s a special punishment, meted out for traitors.”

  “It’s what they would’ve done to Bram if they’d gotten their hands on him again.” Linc’s voice was barely there.

  “Yes.”

  “Did Bram know?”

  Mercy shook his head. “He wouldn’t have—not until it happened. It’s something full members know.”

  “And David—he wasn’t a member?”

  “No. But since I opened my big mouth and claimed him . . .” He shook his head at the memory. “I never thought they’d do that to him. And I shouldn’t have but . . .”

  “So that’s why you never claimed anyone since him.”

  “But I did,” Mercy reminded him. “I made you mine since the first time my dick was inside you—make no mistake about it. But claiming you out loud, to the world . . . I was afraid it would make you a target.”

  Linc stilled. “You were trying to protect me.”

  “I should’ve known better.” Mercy shook his head. “Maybe if you’d had the background on me . . . if I’d told you about the danger . . .”

  “I’d have stayed. It wouldn’t have changed anything for me. You can’t torture yourself like that.”

  “Then you need to stop torturing yourself too.”

  Linc gave a small smile. “Just tell me one thing—did you . . .”

  “See it done?” Mercy nodded slowly. “It’s burned into my memory. But you? Fuck—for the first time, you made me forget it.”

  “And now I’m just going to remind you of it.”

  “You remind me that I still have a heart that works. That’s all.”

  “Did they really make you watch what happened to David?”

  “They chained me so I couldn’t get away. I could’ve closed my eyes but I wouldn’t let David suffer alone,” Mercy admitted. “No more of these nightmares for you, baby. It’s over and they can’t hurt you anymore. I want you free from that. I know it’s not that simple but . . .”

  Linc wound his arms around him, buried his face against Mercy’s neck. “I want it to be.”

  Mercy’s voice was gentle. “What did my brother do to you?”

  “Nothing you need to know about. It’s not going to do either of us any good.”

  “I saw your records.” Mercy’s voice was hoarse.

  “And you’re seeing me now,” Linc shot back. “Look at me—flesh and blood, standing in front of you, naked. Needing you to touch me.”

  “You can’t just push it down.”

  “Maybe you can’t, but that’s you. I’m working through it, trying not to hurt myself anymore in the process.” Linc paused. “He touched me, okay? He and his friends . . . they used me.”

  Mercy’s expression was tight, pain and anger mixed. “It’s usually the men who hate themselves the most who do it. They’re angry at their urges. Angry they can’t be themselves. I know Bones fooled around with boys when we were growing up, but he always threatened them so they wouldn’t talk. He made it more of a dominance thing.”

  For Linc, the forced sex had been the easy part. The constant, tortured wondering of what would happen next was the hardest to bear.

  Linc shook his head. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Mercy. But I realize that you didn’t either. The only reason I’m telling you this is that I know who killed David. And I know where David’s buried.”

  Mercy looked stunned. Ruined. “How? Why?”

  Linc swallowed hard. “Because Bones told me exactly where he was going to bury me. And what he was going to do to me, step by step. And then they took me to see David’s grave. They showed me the one they dug for me. They were going to tape the whole thing to show you.”

  Mercy’s arms were around him. “But they didn’t. I stopped them. Bones is dead. You’re okay. You survived. So goddamned tough, Linc. I think you saved yourself—because they thought you’d crack right away and when you didn’t . . .”

  “I just kept thinking about you. Bram too. Knew you’d come for me—both of you.” He stared at Mercy.

  Mercy’s mouth opened and when he finally took a breath, it was long and stuttered, sounded like he was sucking air through a straw.

  “I never wanted to tell you what happened to David,” Linc told him. “It’s something I wanted to lock up inside of me.”

  “Why?”

  “To protect you.”

  Mercy hung his head. “You’re stronger than I ever was.”

  “I think we’re pretty equal. And I think we both have enough scars that we don’t need to make each other into a whipping boy because of it. But you should be able to give David a proper burial
. Let me go with Bram. He can call it in officially. Make it look like it was stumbled on.”

  “No,” Mercy said. “I want them to know Havoc found it.”

  “Then they’ll know I told you.”

  “Trust me—I’ll let the Heathens know.”

  “Will you do me one more favor?” Linc asked. “I know it’s hard because you want to protect me . . . but you can’t keep me in a bubble.”

  Mercy nodded. “I know that. But for now, you still need guys with you when you go anywhere. It’s a dangerous time. But . . . that doesn’t mean you have to stay on Havoc. That’s what the other night was about. Okay?”

  Linc nodded. “I just needed to hear you say it. Just like you needed me to.”

  “Finally, he understands.”

  Linc rolled his eyes and then leaned in to kiss him. And the kiss went immediately to nuclear. Linc couldn’t remember feeling lighter than he did right now.

  Mercy pulled back and murmured against his cheek. “You can do anything, Linc. You’re strong. I never wanted you to feel helpless. I just want to stop your pain. All of it.”

  Linc stroked his cheek. “If only.”

  The kiss had riled Mercy up. There was no way either of them was going to be able to sleep now, not until they’d slaked this constant electric current that ran between them.

  He’d pulled Linc’s mouth onto his again, wanting to wash away the nightmare, needing to fix this boy who’d shown more goddamned faith in him than Mercy deserved.

  And even though Linc was stripping, pressing against him, Mercy knew that he was still feeling vulnerable . . . especially after all they’d discussed tonight. “You want to fuck me, Linc? Because you can.”

  Linc frowned. “Mercy, I . . .”

  “Whatever you need, baby. However you need it.” And then Mercy moved away and rifled through the drawer next to the bed, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He stripped his sweats off and put himself close to the headboard, half lying down and half propped onto pillows, and then he handed Linc the cuffs.

  “Use them,” Mercy told him, because tonight, he had a feeling it was the only way Linc could tolerate what he needed.

  And he needed. Mercy could tell from the strain in his eyes, the clench of his jaw. He would resist all of it, and Mercy knew he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from touching.