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Running on Empty (Havoc Motorcycle Club Book 3)

Page 17

by SE Jakes


  “Remember our first night?” Linc asked, almost shyly.

  “I’ll never fucking forget it,” Mercy growled. “And, for the record, I did notice you . . . clocked you pretty much the second you started hanging around.”

  Linc scoffed. “That’s when I was in the Army.” Mercy stared at him, raised his brows and Linc couldn’t hold back his surprise. “Really?”

  “Are you kidding me? You really think I could ignore you?”

  “You did a pretty good job of pretending,” Linc said quietly. “I guess we both kept a lot of secrets.”

  “Are you telling me yours now because your back’s against the wall?” Mercy had to ask.

  “No. Check your texts.”

  Mercy scrolled and saw Linc’s “Let’s talk” text from eleven that morning. Then he frowned and scrolled back to a picture of a sunset that he’d never seen before. He and Linc hadn’t spent any time texting, not for months. “Is this from tonight?”

  Linc looked shaken. He took the phone from Mercy’s hands and, finger on the screen, pushed the picture to the side to see the time and date. “Something must’ve happened . . . it never went through that day.”

  Mercy took the phone back because Linc’s voice was hoarse with emotion. He saw that the date and time were just before Linc had been taken by the Heathens.

  He’d been sending Mercy a picture of the sunset . . . with the words: See you soon.

  “I wanted to share it with you,” Linc murmured. “I was getting ready to turn around back to Havoc then.”

  It was like a hot knife through his heart. “I didn’t see this, Linc. I . . .”

  “They grabbed me right after . . . they probably turned my phone off so you couldn’t trace it. I have no idea where that phone went. Someone must’ve turned it on recently or . . .” Linc shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Mercy brushed his knuckles across Linc’s cheek. “I should’ve looked for you, Linc. No matter if I’d gotten this picture or not.”

  Linc gave a lopsided smile. “We’re good, okay? You know now. That answers my question.”

  “And I just have one more—did you sleep with Castle?”

  Linc rolled his eyes. “At one point in time, yes. Before I worked for him . . . and after, a little.”

  “Who broke it off with who?”

  “I did.” As Linc spoke those words, he stood and stripped off his T-shirt and threw it to the side, his cheeks slightly flushed, and looking more alive than Mercy had seen him in months.

  Without speaking, Linc straddled his lap, winding his arms around Mercy’s shoulders, bending his head to press his lips against Mercy’s, and Mercy let Linc take the lead.

  Then Linc unbuckled Mercy’s belt and freed it, handing it over to Mercy. “I want you to tie me with this. And use me. And I don’t want you to let me up, even if I beg. And I will beg.”

  Mercy stared at his boy’s flushed face. “Yes, you will. I’ll only stop if you say ‘red.’”

  In all their times together, Linc never had.

  Linc’s eyes grew serious. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s get your pants off.”

  Linc moved away from him and skimmed his sweats off. Then Mercy took his belt and wound it around Linc’s wrists, keeping his hands in front of him . . . and then he walked him around the back of the couch and put gentle pressure on his back so Linc bent over. His hands rested on the couch cushion, and he spread his legs apart and Mercy watched him do so without being told and Christ, the trust Linc gave him was incredible. A fucking gift, and one he’d never take for granted.

  “You’re mine, baby,” he bent down to murmur in Linc’s ear as his fingers searched out Linc’s hole, rubbing, pressing, feeling Linc squirm back against him.

  “Yes,” Linc agreed.

  “Claimed,” he continued after he’d grabbed a bottle of lube and squirted it on his fingers, then resumed his fingering, using one, then two pressed inside of him.

  “Yes.” Linc’s word was a half sob as Mercy added a third finger, then twisted and rubbed his gland. Linc went up on his toes and groaned. “More. I need more.”

  Mercy gave him more, but at his own speed. Pleasure rippled through Linc as he played . . . but it wasn’t going to be enough and Mercy knew it. Kept edging him and then pulling back, until Linc was babbling about “needing to be fucked now.”

  Mercy chuckled, asked, “That’s the spot, baby?” as he rubbed circles over his gland and Linc nodded. “Words.”

  “Yes, God, yes,” Linc pleaded.

  “You should see how hot you look—all splayed out for me. Half my hand in you and you’re so fucking compliant. Letting me do whatever I want . . . letting me give you what you need.”

  A sob tore from Linc’s throat, and it surprised him. It also made Mercy replace his fingers with his cock, pressing the thick head against his hole until Linc’s body gave up and accepted him inside.

  The next morning, he woke to multiple voices, all talking intensely. He could make out Bram, Sweet, Mercy, Vann, Tug, and . . .

  Castle. Shit.

  He got up, dressed, and padded downstairs, trying to get a read on what was happening.

  That read came pretty quickly, because of all the yelling.

  “I don’t answer to any of you,” Castle was telling the group calmly. “I’m here as a favor.”

  They all went silent when Linc walked in though.

  “Listen, we’re not going to do this talk about Linc when he’s not in the room shit again, got it?” He scanned their faces and the men looked slightly chastened, except for Mercy.

  “Did they call you?” Linc asked Castle now. “Because I didn’t.

  “I heard about what happened at the docks,” Castle told him. “When I attempted to come in here, I had a mob waiting for me.”

  Linc fought a smile and glanced at Bram, because Sweet was literally standing between him and Castle. Vann, again, was enjoying the unrest and Mercy’s hands were balled into fists. “The men in this room are the only ones who know right now. I need to tell Rush and Ryker and then I know my secret will be kept.”

  “It wasn’t your goddamned secret to tell, Linc,” Castle hissed, and Vann growled, a literal growl to rival any attack dog, and Castle shifted and stepped away from him. “I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Tried that,” Mercy said. “It wasn’t working for him. He’s got to be able to tell us shit. We need to protect him and Havoc. It’s the only way.”

  “Castle, not telling the men here—and maybe a few others—isn’t going to work. That being said, if I decide to work with you on this job, that’s not something anyone here can interfere with. I think you all need to know what Havoc’s coming up against. We have a common enemy, and the faster we can get rid of them, the better.”

  Vann gave him a dip of his chin and Linc noted the approval. Bram and Mercy would, of course, be the hardest sells, but they remained quiet, for the moment at least.

  “We need to talk now,” Bram told him, right after Castle let himself out.

  Linc figured there was no more avoiding it, so the two of them went out onto the back porch and waited, with Linc pretending to be completely innocent . . . because that sometimes worked with Bram.

  But maybe not this time. Not when Bram demanded, “Do you have anything you’d like to tell me?”

  “Um, I think you’re the greatest older brother ever?” Linc said hopefully.

  Bram rolled his eyes. “Something else?”

  “And you’re very handsome too. Oh, I know, you’re a really great—”

  “Linc!” Bram roared in a very familiar brother way that Linc had heard his entire childhood.

  “I’m right here. You don’t have to yell.”

  Bram’s hands flexed. He’d never hit him, but he would make sure Linc didn’t run from his questions. Linc backed up slightly, although he’d miscalculated the wall behind him.

  “Linc, you never told me.”

  “Because you’d worry. And by
the time it happened, you were already undercover.”

  “And when I got out of that first job—”

  “I was already in and figured it was safer not to tell you.”

  “And you were right,” Bram admitted defeatedly. “I didn’t want this for you.”

  “What—a life of excitement and adventure?” Linc joked. “Most of the time, it’s cool.”

  “And when it isn’t?”

  “When I have to lie to my family and friends, even if it’s for their own good, I just tell myself that it’s for the best.”

  “One of us needs a direct line to your handler,” Bram instructed crisply.

  “I already put it into your phone.”

  “When?”

  “Half an hour ago.”

  “Linc—”

  “You’re really not mindful about—”

  “You fucking pickpocket.”

  “I put it back!”

  They looked at each other and then Linc snorted and so did Bram. Bram put a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, I guess things are right back to where they should be.”

  “This is normal . . . for us.”

  Now that things were settled with Bram, Linc knew he had a bigger hurdle to overcome with Mercy. He steeled himself for their talk, and Bram gave him an encouraging pat on the back. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to talk about this—and it was going to be in front of everyone, because all the men standing in Mercy’s kitchen were now very much involved.

  Mercy had obviously been waiting for him to come back inside. He didn’t look angry, just tense and maybe even a little resigned to what he knew Linc would tell him.

  Linc reiterated it anyway. He moved in close, to where Mercy leaned against the kitchen counters. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Mercy’s hands went to his waist.

  “You’ve got to let me do my job.”

  Mercy’s expression tightened. “You need backup.”

  “I’ll have it. Trust me. But Havoc can’t be involved.”

  “We’re not amateurs.”

  “I need to do this, Mercy. This is my job, and I’m good at it.”

  Mercy nodded slowly, acknowledging Linc’s words. “It’s how you survived at Heathens.”

  Linc nodded grimly. “That training, and thinking about you. Us. It was what I hung onto.”

  “But you knew it was my fault you were there.”

  “And what I’m telling you—what I’ve been trying to tell you for months—was that it didn’t matter. Not then. Not now. You—us—that’s what got me through.”

  “And I’ve been fucking it up ever since.”

  “No. Guilt is fucking you up—fucking us up and that’s not what I want. I don’t want to leave. But if I can’t do this job—and this one’s not only important to me, but to Shades—I’ll have to. I want to help you—I want to do this for you. And for Havoc.”

  “How the fuck did all that wisdom get into someone so young?”

  Linc rolled his eyes. “Okay, old man.”

  Mercy tugged him closer, then wrapped an arm around his waist. “Tell me how I can help. Because it will look worse if we aren’t on our usual patrols.”

  “You’ll make sure you get called away on some kind of wild-goose chase. So have someone create a diversion that would keep you and Havoc busy . . . and keep the kids at home.”

  “Before we do this . . . there’s one more thing we need to settle.” Mercy gave him a hard look and Linc knew exactly what he was talking about. He steered Linc closer to the group that waited—sans Castle—and said, “I know where David is buried.”

  Sweet frowned. The rest of the men looked slightly confused but didn’t say anything.

  “How?” Sweet asked.

  Mercy looked at Linc. “I wish he didn’t have to know about it . . . but they told him.”

  “Fuck,” Sweet muttered.

  “I’ll show you where the grave is.” He had to force himself not to say graves, because they’d see it soon enough.

  “You can just tell me, Linc,” Mercy started, but Linc shook his head.

  “No. I need to go. You were right the other night—letting it out makes things better.” And it had. He’d slept through last night, and while he wasn’t expecting miracles, he was hopeful that he’d have more nights like that.

  Mercy said, “If we bring him to his family . . .”

  “There will be an investigation,” Bram finished.

  Mercy nodded. “Can’t bring the body to them but I won’t leave it there.”

  “I know,” Sweet told him. “We won’t. Let me talk to Post. I’m sure we can find a way.” Post was a local funeral director. “Would you want to bury him on Havoc land? Wouldn’t be the first.”

  “Would you do that?” Mercy asked, his voice halting.

  “You’re one of us. You claimed him at one time, which means he was also one of us. So yes, I would do that,” Sweet told him.

  Mercy looked at Linc. “I think David would’ve liked that.”

  Linc got dressed the next morning, trying to ignore the nerves in his belly as he pushed the eggs Mercy made him around his plate.

  He was going back to Heathens land, but he wasn’t going to be alone. He’d be looking at the graves he still had nightmares about, but then it would be over. He’d be safe the whole time.

  The doorbell rang, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Can you grab that?” Mercy called.

  Linc padded downstairs and saw Rush on the porch. He swallowed hard, not sure if he was ready for this face-to-face. Yes, they’d spoken on the phone when Rush had called to ask for his help . . . but that hadn’t been the time or place to discuss their fight. And now, when Linc opened the door, it hung between them like a heavy curtain.

  Linc leaned against the doorjamb and Rush didn’t make a move to come in, just stared at him for a long moment. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “You didn’t tell me. Because you couldn’t.”

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck, Linc.” Rush ran his hands through his hair. “You were working. Since I knew you . . . since we got out . . . you weren’t just hanging around, running off when you felt like it. It was your job. And I didn’t know.”

  Linc’s only answer was a shrug, because the knife Linc still had stuck in his heart hadn’t dislodged.

  Rush shook his head. “You let me think . . . you let me act like a total asshole to you.”

  “Seemed to come naturally,” Linc told him and Rush’s face dropped. “You only said what you think about me.”

  “C’mon, man, I was hurt and stupid. I was trying to get a rise out of you so you’d explain. I never thought . . . fuck. You’re one of my best friends. I never want to hurt you.”

  “Rush—”

  “I’m sorry. Fuck, Linc, all this time . . . if I’d known, you wouldn’t have gone through what you did. I should’ve known—even if you didn’t tell me, I should’ve known you better than to think you just ran.” He finished with a small sob and hugged Linc, and for a second, Linc just stood there and let him. But Rush had stood by him, had worried about him.

  “’S’all right,” he told Rush as he put his arms around his friend.

  Rush sniffled in his ear. “No, it’s not. It didn’t fit. You don’t abandon your friends. I just want you to be happy and you seemed happy with Mercy and . . . I never thought . . .”

  “I know.” When Rush pulled back, Linc saw his eyes red. Linc’s eyes were wet too. “I couldn’t tell you. I still wasn’t supposed to.”

  Rush nodded. “So Castle’s your handler?”

  “He is now. The guy before him is the one who fucked up by never reporting me.”

  Rush looked like he wanted to ask something but Linc knew exactly what it was. “And yes, I slept with Castle. But I didn’t have to do it for the grades. He’d already recruited me. It was just a side bonus.”

  “How’s Mercy feel about that?”

  “He’s not that happy.”

  “I’d imagine not.
Then again, I know what happens when Ryker gets jealous so . . .”

  Linc grinned. “Why don’t you come inside and wait. Mercy’s got Grand Theft Auto.”

  Several hours later, two SUVs and a couple of bikes made the two-hour trip as Linc guided them to the spot that was just outside of the Heathens compound. Just far enough off their land so they couldn’t get in trouble if the law discovered the graves.

  Linc’s gut clenched as they got closer, and he tried not to let the memories swamp him. But it was impossible. Even with Mercy’s hand on his thigh and his friends surrounding him, this was going to be difficult.

  Equally so for Mercy, Linc reminded himself. And that was the only reason he was doing this. For Mercy—so he could have the closure he deserved.

  Vann was on his bike—riding in the truck was a rarity for him, Linc noticed. He much preferred his freedom. Linc could relate.

  “Linc, you need to breathe,” Mercy murmured against his cheek, and Linc nodded and closed his eyes as they drove past the burnt-out shell of the Heathens compound. It was hidden behind gates and up a long drive but still, Linc swore he could picture it as if it were right in front of him.

  “Linc, we’re past,” Sweet told him. “Can you guide us from here?”

  Linc opened his eyes and looked to the left. The field to the right was expansive and familiar. “Can you go straight here—slowly?”

  Tug complied and Linc scanned the area until he caught sight of the tree, a large weeping willow that Linc recalled in some of his darker nightmares. “The tree.” He swallowed hard.

  Tug turned the big truck in the direction of the tree and drove past it . . . onto a dirt road.

  “This is right,” Linc murmured. “Keep going . . .”

  After another half mile, Linc said, “Here. Stop here.”

  Another weeping willow. Beyond that, they’d find what they came for. Reluctantly, he got out of the truck and began walking woodenly over the land that he’d been led through time and time again during his capture, always with Bones at his back, always chained up and pushed along.

  This was the root of most of his nightmares. And he was confronting it head-on.

 

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