by SE Jakes
“The only one who knows is Sweet, and that’s only because he had to know to approve my status. I’m not up for telling you what happened to me . . . but let’s say that I understand what it’s like to be captured and held, okay?”
Linc stared into Vann’s dark eyes and saw how haunted they appeared. No wonder Vann understood him so well. He’d been in Linc’s position. “You had to run to heal.”
“I ran because I didn’t have anyone. Havoc didn’t know me well enough. I told Sweet because he needed an explanation. But you have someone. A lot of someones. It’s going to take time, Linc. It’ll never be the same . . . but that’s okay too.”
“Vann . . . you’re not . . . like Jethro, are you?”
“He’s not,” Jethro broke in before Vann could, although the look on Vann’s face told him that Vann wasn’t a fed at all. Linc hadn’t heard him come in but Vann must’ve. “He’s former military and all Havoc.”
“Just the way I like it,” Vann added.
“What do you do for money as a rogue member?” Linc asked.
“Odd jobs.”
Linc didn’t bother asking what those might be—he could use his imagination. “Is everything okay?”
“Sweet and Mercy are almost here. I’ll hang around to talk to them,” Jethro said.
“I’m going to talk to Mercy . . . about everything,” he said. Vann got up and went into the kitchen and Linc whispered to Jethro, “Mercy’s going to be so fucking pissed at me. How can I make this work?”
“It’s part of the reason I’m single,” Jethro answered honestly. He sat next to Linc now and circled an arm around him protectively. There was nothing sexual about his touch. “Does Castle know what you’re about to do?”
“No. And I don’t give a fuck.”
“So you’re prepared to give that up?”
“I guess I am. Although I don’t see why having a few people know about what I do matters. People know about you.”
Jethro nodded. “Different rules for different ops.”
“I’ll just have to see how it shakes out, but I can’t live a double life with Mercy. There’s no way.”
“It’s going to be better this way. Your other choice is to walk away from Mercy, from Havoc . . . and you’re too immersed to do that now.”
“Is that what happened to you?”
“That’s too long of a story for tonight.”
“Ah, go ahead—we’ve got time,” Vann said from the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.
“Is Vann supposed to know about all of this?” Linc asked.
“If I wasn’t, it’s too fuckin’ late,” Vann grumbled.
Linc couldn’t help it—he laughed. Punch drunk, they called it, and now he understood exactly what the term meant. But he sobered quickly at the weight of what he was about to do, and exhaustion suddenly weighed him down. He stretched out on the couch, put his head on the pillow, and Jethro put a blanket on him. “I’m going from barely anyone knowing what I do to everyone knowing.”
“Feels that way, but no, they won’t. Just the ones who need to,” Jethro assured him.
“Vann needed to?”
Vann sighed, obviously annoyed at being spoken about like he wasn’t there.
“Vann and I knew each other another lifetime ago,” Jethro continued.
“I really want to hear this,” Linc murmured. “Wish I wasn’t so tired.”
Vann snorted. “It’s not a fuckin’ fairy tale.”
“Don’t crush my hopes and dreams,” Linc instructed.
Jethro rolled his eyes and then got serious. “Here’s the thing—you picked a job that basically ensured—and excused—your running.”
“I enabled myself.” Linc’s head began to throb. He was surprised the adrenaline crash hadn’t happened sooner.
Jethro nodded. “Nothing wrong with admitting you want something different now.”
“And Hangmen is your something different?”
“I get to stay in one place,” Jethro reasoned. “With what you’re doing? Not so much.”
“So I’ve got to make a choice.”
“Or modify your current career path,” Jethro agreed. “I’m sure Castle will help you work something out, if that’s what you really want. Beyond that, there’s plenty of things for you to do.”
Linc chose to believe him.
Linc chafed at the heavy restraints on his wrists. He couldn’t move. Fuck. He shifted slightly, trying to stay small and quiet, because then they might forget about him for hours, might not hit him or drug him or fuck him, and thank fuck they always used condoms (for no other reason than they were worried about catching something from him.)
But the sudden weight on him, the hands touching him, would lead to yanking and hitting soon enough and no, he wasn’t going into that open grave.
His leg shot out and made contact. He heard a muffled grunt and he punched, and then he charged like a bull at whoever had backed off momentarily. He made the tackle, his body falling on another man’s hard as they hit the floor together, and then he searched blindly for the man’s neck. Finally, he wrapped his hands around the man’s throat and squeezed and the body under his bucked hard, forcing Linc to roll with him. He was conscious of yelling—his—and the sounds of a struggle. His body hurt, because he was slamming into walls and other objects that he couldn’t place, but he wasn’t giving up.
“Linc, baby, please . . .”
A voice broke through his consciousness, and who the fuck was calling him baby? No way—he wasn’t falling for a trick.
He resumed his efforts to kill whoever was still goddamned grabbing at him, and further panic ensured when he realized it was more than one set of hands on him.
He went wild, throwing punches and kicks at the enemy Heathens he knew were there . . . until he finally heard, “Let him go—don’t touch him.” And then no one was touching him.
Still, he was restless, circling, seeing Bones and Bruno and the Heathens compound and that fucking room with the concrete floor with the chains attached and he snarled, “Stay the fuck back.”
Bones held out his hands as if in surrender. “We’re staying back.”
“I’m getting out of here.”
“You’re out, Linc. You already escaped,” Bones said, sounding too reasonable.
Yeah, this was definitely a trick. “You’re not following me.”
“Linc, come back. You’re at Havoc. Safe. You’re dreaming.”
Of course he was dreaming—about Havoc and Mercy, but when he woke up it was always a lie.
“Linc, c’mon. It’s Bram.” Bram? No way. The Heathens hadn’t captured Bram. But Bram was standing there, looking concerned. “Linc, you’re bleeding.”
“Of course I’m bleeding.” Why were they all surprised? They’d done this to him, day after day and fuck.
“Linc, honey . . . I’ve got to examine you.” A female voice. He blinked. He’d never heard a female voice the entire time he’d been held at Heathens. “It’s Misha,” she persisted.
Misha? What the hell? “You shouldn’t be here. You’ve got to get out before they see you.” He moved toward her, touched her and fuck, she smelled good, like sunshine.
She put her hand in his and whispered, “We’ll go together.” And then they walked through a door and into the night air, across a wooden porch until his bare feet hit grass, and he stared, unsure of where to go.
He heard panted breathing, realized it was his. Looked up and saw the moon high above the trees . . . and everything melted away except the cool night air caressing his skin, the moon, the trees, and Misha’s hand in his.
Havoc.
“Fuck,” he managed, his voice hoarse and raw sounding, even to his own ears. His knees threatened to give out and everything hurt. The disorientation had his head spinning, but he forced himself to stand there and breathe.
Misha gave his hand a light squeeze—encouragement and a reminder that he wasn’t alone—all rolled into one.
�
��Fuck,” he said again.
“Linc, there’s a chair behind you. Come sit with me.”
He turned and saw she was right, that two chairs had materialized behind them, and he sat shakily with her help, and then she sat, and still she held his hand.
“I grew up in this world,” she started. “This rough and scary biker world. And I know people in med school used to wonder how I dealt with it. I was also asked if I was scared.” She let out a short laugh that tinkled along the breeze. “I was raped, Linc—held down and raped in my own apartment by a blue blood who was in my study group. He was from a prominent family and he knew where I came from, and he told me that he figured biker chicks always wanted it.”
Now, Linc was squeezing her hand as the world began to right itself rapidly. “Misha, I’m sorry.”
“I get it, honey, and I didn’t go through a quarter of what you went through. But when someone takes away all your control from you, it’s always a fight to balance getting it back . . . letting yourself be helped and looked after. Talking about it helps too.”
“Did Mercy come in and touch me?” he asked finally.
“I did.” Mercy’s voice came from somewhere behind him. “I needed to talk to you about what happened tonight so I shook your shoulder lightly to wake you. And you flipped.”
Linc closed his eyes briefly as his mind raced backward. Tonight . . . what happened tonight . . .
Harry. Havoc teens. Project X. “You were pissed.”
“A little, yes,” Mercy said simply. “But more worried about you than anything. I remember what I agreed to last night. I’m not going back on my word.”
Linc nodded, ashamed at how his body and brain had betrayed him. “Okay, it’s okay,” he told Mercy when really, he was the farthest thing from it.
“I have a sedative,” Misha offered, because she knew. Linc figured they all knew how fucked up he was. Christ, the scene he’d made . . .
“Fuck no.”
“Then you have to let me check you. I think you need stitches.”
Linc nodded and stood, making sure his legs were under him. Mercy stayed close, and Vann and Jethro were on the porch, along with Sweet and Bram.
Bram followed them inside, where Tug and Boomer were, and sat next to him in the kitchen as Misha checked him, decided he didn’t need stitches, and placed steri-strips on the cut above his eyebrow and his chin.
Mercy kept a hand on his shoulder the entire time. When Misha finished, she left with Boomer to go to Sweet’s house.
“You still up for talking?” Mercy asked him quietly.
“Yes—I have to be.” Linc looked around at the men who’d started to assemble—Sweet and Bram, Vann, Jethro, and Tug. “Let them stay. I mean, I wanted to tell you first, but in the interest of Havoc, it’s better this way.”
“Why don’t you start by telling us about Luke Castle,” Mercy said.
“He’s an old Army friend. He’s not in the Army anymore,” Linc said carefully.
Bram and Sweet looked at each other. Tug sighed and Vann crossed his arms. And Mercy?
Looked too calm to be believed when he asked, “And what does non-Army Castle have you involved in?”
“He wasn’t my handler when Heathens took me,” Linc said. “He got rid of that guy.”
“Were you on a job then, Linc?” Bram asked quietly and the room got tense.
“I was doing some recon, yes.”
“And this is why your court case was closed chambers,” Mercy added.
“How did you know? Ah fuck, never mind.” Linc felt lighter now that his secret was out. He was also pretty sure that feeling wasn’t going to last long.
“Who was in charge of your handler?” Bram’s voice was low and reasonable.
It was his I’m going to go out and kill someone with my bare hands for hurting my baby brother voice. “Castle already took care of it,” Linc reminded him.
“Was Castle in charge of your handler?” Bram repeated.
“You can’t kill him, Bram.”
“Oh, but I can. I can list all the fucking ways . . .” Bram started but Sweet put a hand on his chest.
“Bram, let’s find out a little bit more and then you can flip the kill switch, all right?” Sweet raised his brows at Bram and Bram grunted in response.
Jethro sighed. “Not supposed to hear this shit, you know?”
Linc sank back into his chair. “Will all of you just calm the fuck down?” He was tired. Irritable. “In case you haven’t notice, full grown-up over here.”
“I’ve definitely noticed,” Jethro told him.
Mercy bared his teeth and growled at him. Vann looked pleased at all the unrest.
Linc wondered if it was wrong that Mercy’s jealousy warmed him. “Okay, look, one of our skips—Ty Larimer—had Blanchard for his attorney. It didn’t seem right because how the hell could he afford a lawyer like that and why would Blanchard take a low-life thug on? He’s a cartel lawyer. Ty missed court so I paid Blanchard a visit and before you say anything,” he told Mercy, who’d opened his mouth but closed it now, “I didn’t tell him who I was. I did get pictures of Ty’s file. Castle told me the next day that Ty had been found murdered, cartel-style.”
“Drugs?” Sweet asked.
Linc shook his head. “Human trafficking. Mainly teens.”
Realization bloomed on the men’s faces.
“Fuck,” Vann muttered. “Those bastards got too close to our kids.”
“I didn’t want to take any chances tonight,” Linc admitted. “After what happened last night, I just knew. With the Pagans trying to make their way into Shades . . . it’s almost like they’re running a distraction play.”
“And Castle . . .” Bram drew out the man’s name like a curse. “Wants you to work on this.”
“Heathens can make you,” Mercy pointed out tightly.
“I’d be dealing mainly with the cartel.” Linc tried to not get annoyed and say something like, Why didn’t I think of that—you’re right—the Heathens know me.
“I think it’s time for Linc and Mercy to talk alone,” Sweet said, as if he noticed Linc’s sudden tension toward Mercy. “We’ve got enough to talk about.”
Bram pointed at his brother. “We need to talk more about this.”
“Like we’ve talked about your career in the past?” Linc asked pleasantly. Bram took a step toward him but Sweet pulled him back, murmured something in his ear.
“Tomorrow, Linc,” Bram called over his shoulder as Sweet led him out. Vann dipped his head before he left, following the others out the door and closing it behind them.
Linc turned to Mercy. “Here’s the upshot—what I was going to tell you, and you alone tonight. I was running ops for Castle’s guys when I was taken. After I woke in the hospital, he came to see me and I told him I was done. But after court, I told him that I’d start up again, because I wanted to make sure that what he told me about the cartel and the trafficking wasn’t going to blow back on Havoc. And then those kids were way too goddamned close. I needed backup and I called Jethro, because Hangmen are closer and they’re Havoc’s allies. And I’m not supposed to tell anyone about this. No one. But your claiming shit threw a wrench in that.”
He hadn’t meant for it to come out in an angry tirade, but Mercy sat back under the force of Linc’s words. “Fuck, baby, I just wanted you safe.”
“Yeah, like I don’t.” Linc crossed his arms.
“I think I’m seeing the undercover agent come through,” Mercy muttered. “Not sure I like it.”
“You might have to get used to it if I decide to keep doing it. It’s a part of me.”
Mercy tilted his head. “The Jethro thing . . . it’s because he understood the job, the risks.”
“I think so. I mean, he lives it. But I’m sorry. I was just . . . flailing.”
“No, babe, I’m sorry.”
“Why? You were right. I wasn’t ready—not all the way. And you were the only one I could tell everything to. The only one wh
o needed to hear it as much as I needed to say it.”
“I don’t want to tie you down.”
Linc gave him a smile that took over his whole face. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to do that with—in every sense of the word. Dig?”
Mercy snorted. “You’ll be the death of me.”
“But in a positive way, right?”
“Yeah, babe. Definitely. But here’s what I don’t get. You could’ve skated away from the bail responsibilities with no problem. Hell, you didn’t even need to have any of it on your record. You didn’t need the bond from me.”
True, but Linc refused to admit that. But Mr. Dog-with-a-bone wasn’t stopping.
“Why would you risk getting arrested?” he pressed.
“It was good for my cover,” Linc said quickly.
“Bullshit.”
““It’s not.” But it was only a partial truth..
The first time he’d seen Mercy, he’d been in Bertha’s. Wearing the Havoc cut and watching Linc dance, the same look on his face that Ryker reserved for Rush.
But Ryker hadn’t made Rush come to him. Not really. Ryker had shown up in Rush’s bedroom, slowly seducing him into the idea of a relationship.
Mercy? He’d watched Linc with interest . . . but hadn’t made a damned move. In order to get face time with him, Linc had to . . .
“Had to what?” Mercy asked.
Linc realized he’d muttered his story out fucking loud.
“What did you do to get my atten—” Mercy’s eyes widened and he halted. “You got yourself arrested to get close to me.”
Linc probably couldn’t have felt stupider than he did right now. “I didn’t . . . not exactly. I mean, I didn’t plan it.” It had been more of a split-second decision when he’d seen Mercy getting ready to leave alone, yet again. “You didn’t want anything to do with me.” Fuck, he was pathetic. “I got arrested because you wouldn’t pay any attention to me any other way.”
Mercy really stared at him now, noting Linc’s blue eyes laid bare with honesty and truth. “I was paying attention to you. I just couldn’t let you know. Jesus Christ . . . I knew that the second I touched you . . .”
Everything would explode. And it had.
And it hadn’t stopped yet.