Mercer: Prophets MC

by Laura Day

  “My contact is getting antsy, but I'll stall him,” Bates said. “Only because I don't want to lose you, Mercer. Not over some stupid slut.”

  His words sent a spike of rage through me, but I kept it from showing. I wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and choke the prick, but I needed to keep my cool. The last thing I needed was for the club to bring the heat down on me because I'd lost my shit and had done something stupid. But hearing him talk about Val like that unleashed something dark and primal within me.

  I felt something for this girl; I couldn't deny it any longer. Not to myself, at least.

  “You're not going to lose me, man,” I told him, lying through my teeth.

  When had it all come to this? When had the club I loved with all my heart, and given so much of myself to over the years, devolved into Bates and me lying and threatening each other? Some might blame it on me growing a heart, but I knew better. This club was headed into territory I didn't want to go. Territory that was dangerous to the very existence of the club itself. But there was nothing I could do to stop it. Not from where I was standing. Not with Bates in charge.

  ***

  “Where ya been?” Val stared at me from the couch.

  “At the club,” I muttered. “Had a meeting with the boss.”

  I walked over and kissed her on the forehead, drawing a smile out of her. Laila was in a bouncy chair nearby, watching me with big, wide eyes. I smiled down at the baby, but she just frowned. At least she didn't cry, though. That was something.

  Val kept peering at me as if she expected me to say more. When I didn't, she said, “About?”

  “Club business.” I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a beer, popping the cap and taking a long swig.

  When I looked back at her, she arched an eyebrow, obviously encouraging me to expand on my answer. But telling her why I'd met with Bates – to discuss murdering her – wasn't something I was going to do. Maybe someday, I'd be able to tell her everything. But this was not that day.

  “What?” I asked and grinned like nothing was wrong. “It's not like I can tell you the shit that goes on there. You don't have a patch.”

  She continued to stare at me, and I could tell that she knew something. Or at the very least, suspected something. There was a question in her eyes – one I wasn't sure I was going to be willing to answer. I gave her an expression that was meant to dissuade her from that line of questioning, but I tell by the look of fire in her eyes, and the set of her jaw, that she wasn't going to let it drop.

  “You can tell me something,” she said. “Like what the fuck is going on with you and me? And how you knew about Ricky coming after me – I'm assuming that's because of the club somehow?”

  I looked down at the ground and took a sip of my beer, hoping she didn't see the look in my eyes. The fact that she was so close to the truth scared the shit out of me. I couldn't let her find out, not about the club trying to kill her. What would that do to her? To us? What would she think of me if she knew I was the man tasked with taking her out?

  “That's it, isn't it?” she said, getting up from the couch and rushing over to me. “Somehow, the club knows about Ricky's plans, and they sent you to what – protect me?”

  She was starting to put shit together, and I knew that it wasn't going to take her too much longer to start figuring out the rest of the story. Because there was no money in protecting girls like her – unless someone with a vested interest in keeping her safe fronted the cash. And well, from what I knew about Val, the only person who had any money at all wanted her dead.

  “Something like that,” I muttered, scratching my chin and taking another long swig. “But there's nothing to worry about, Val. It's all good.”

  “Why would the club protect me, though?” she seemed to wonder aloud to herself. “I don't get it? It's not like The Prophets are cops – or really, even law-abiding citizens. You guys do some pretty fucked up shit, right?”

  I shrugged and inwardly winced. She was putting it all together. The train had left the station, and there was no way I was going to get it to stop before it reached its destination – catastrophic disaster.

  “Like murder people?” she asked.

  I shrugged again, trying to avoid saying anything. I knew that if I opened my mouth and spoke, it was going to lead her further and further down that path. I hadn't realized just how sharp and intelligent Val really was, but I saw it firsthand. If the situation hadn't been so entirely fucked up and the stakes so high, I would have been greatly impressed. But at that moment, I simply wished that she could have been nothing more than a brainless bimbo with a nice pair of tits.

  Her gaze narrowed on me, and with her arms crossed against her chest, she stared me down. It was hard not telling her the truth and keeping secrets from her, but what could I say? That I was supposed to kill her? Because that would have been comforting to a woman who'd just left an abusive relationship…not.

  What was she going to do when she found out – and she was going to find out – that the strange man she's shacking up with is being offered a large sum of money to off her. And if I were being truthful, I realized that if I were a less nobleman or had the scruples and integrity of Bates, I'd have probably killed her by now.

  But it wasn't me, and I couldn't do it. Not that I was going to be able to convince Val of that.

  “I'm tired,” I said, placing the beer down on the sink. “I'm going to crash out here tonight.”

  “Don't change the subject,” she said, following me as I walked into the living room. “Mercer, please – ”

  “Val, I can't talk about these things,” I told her, my voice rising. “It's club shit and spouting off about it with anybody is enough for them to take my patch. If not put a bullet in my head.”

  I couldn't handle the questions. I couldn't handle keeping all of this from her. I wanted so badly to tell her, to have her believe that I wasn't going to hurt her and that my true intentions were to keep her and Laila safe – and that they had been from the start.

  But there was no guarantee she wouldn't take the news all wrong and be terrified of me. I couldn't have her running off, out of fear. But it was more than that – I realized that I didn't want to lose her. Seeing the hurt expression on her face, I lowered my voice and rubbed my temples.

  “Just trust me, okay?” I said softly. “Do you trust me?”

  Her voice was fragile, almost a whisper, but she nodded. “Yes. I have no reason not to. I just want to know what's going on.”

  Reaching for her, I pulled her to me and kissed the top of her head again. My entire body was tired, but it was more than that – my brain and soul were tired too. I was beat. Keeping secrets from everyone – including my girl – was wearing on me and I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep it all up. I felt like I was slowly unraveling and that I wasn't going to be able to keep myself together.

  “You will, darling,” I murmured against her silky hair that smelled like orange blossoms. “You will. In time, I am going to tell you everything. But until then, I need for you to trust me. That's all I'm asking.”

  It took her a moment to answer me as she searched my face for what I assumed was honesty. In the end, she nodded and gazed into my eyes.

  “Okay, Mercer. I'll trust you.”

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Mercer

  I tossed and turned, unable to shut my brain off. Val trusted me. I should be relieved, but I wasn't. I knew that if she happened to find out the truth about this whole clusterfuck, she'd never trust me again. She'd run, and I might not ever see her again.

  Girls like Val valued truth and honesty above all else. And I wasn't being honest with her. It came down to more than just wanting to keep her safe, though. In the end, I knew that I wanted to keep her in my life. Her and the baby.

  For so long, I'd yearned for something more, but I didn't know what it was. It certainly hadn't been a family, since I'd never expected to have children at my age. Nor had I even wanted them
, if truth be told. Over time, though, I realized that I wanted a girl. And not just one of the club sluts – the girls who hung around the clubhouse fucking anybody with a patch, and hoping that they'd be taken care of. Or even worse, the women who found the whole outlaw biker mystique sexy and intriguing. Those kinds of women thought they wanted a bad boy – until they saw what we were actually capable of.

  No, I wanted something real, something genuine. Something natural and honest. Somebody like Val. Except, I wasn't being honest and was running the risk of watching her walk out the door because of it.

  I slept on the couch most nights just so I could keep watch on the door. That’s what I was doing now. I was feeling drowsy, and Val had fallen asleep on the love seat nearby, watching some late night TV. Laila was asleep as well, curled up on her chest, looking happy and content. They both looked so peaceful.

  I watched as Val's chest rose and fell in the rhythms of sleep. Her hair was curled around her head, touching her cheeks. She looked so sweet like that, but she also didn't look comfortable. Not crammed up on the short love seat with a baby lying on her. She'd have a sore neck by morning at this rate.

  It was at that moment that I noticed something – her eyes weren't closed after all. She wasn't sleeping. She was looking back at me, the light from the TV reflecting off her eyes.

  “Hey,” I said softly with a smile. “You'd be more comfortable in bed.”

  “So would you,” she replied.

  “True. But I prefer to keep watch. Just in case.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  It was silent in the room except for the television. Val looked at me with what appeared to be trust in her eyes, and suddenly I felt ashamed.

  She was worried about some terrible bogeyman that she feared would come waltzing through the front door with guns blazing. And yet, the real threat was right next to her. On the couch. Watching her and her daughter sleep.

  Except I wasn't about to kill her. Not for any amount of money, and not because Bates told me I needed to. So in all honesty, she had nothing to worry about. Not as long as I was there and Bates kept me on the job. Of course, Bates was going to pull me off the job – and probably put a bullet in my head – if I didn't do what he'd tasked me with doing. But there was no way in hell that was going to happen. Not so long as I was drawing breath.

  As I looked at her face in the soft, flickering glow of the TV, I thought that maybe I should tell her everything. Maybe spilling it all – including the fact that I wasn't going to do what Bates wanted me to do – would help ease her fears? Maybe it would all be better that way?

  “A penny for your thoughts?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “You look lost in thought. Like whatever is you’re thinking about is important.”

  Before I could stop myself, I said, “What if I told you that you're not in any danger? Not for now at least?”

  “And how would you know that?”

  The urge to spill my guts was strong, but my own fears proved to be stronger. “I just do, okay.”

  I waited for the questions that were inevitably going to follow – the same questions she always asked me. The ones I couldn't answer without giving away my true reason for being in her life. Her mouth opened as if she wanted to ask, but then she closed it again and smiled.

  “If you say so,” she finally said quietly, picking Laila up from her chest. “I think we're going to head to bed. You're welcome to join us, you know.”

  I wanted to go with them, and a part of me thought it would be safe enough to go. Bates still had me on the job – all should be fine. I'd been given until next week to get it done, so in theory, I shouldn't have had to stand guard by the door all night.

  As much as I believed everything would be fine, though, I couldn't trust Bates completely. Not with how long this was taking and how impatient he'd been getting. I was going to hear back from a friend on the other side of the Mexican border about letting Val stay with them for a bit soon. Not that the border towns were a safe area, but it was safer than her being here once Bates discovered I had no intention of killing her. Plus, my friends down there would be able to protect her until I got there.

  Val carried Laila into the bedroom, and I assumed that was the last I was going to see of her for the night. Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the couch and tried to fall asleep, but the sound of footsteps coming back down the hallway made me sit up again.

  “Easy there, cowboy,” Val said with a laugh, standing a few inches away from me. “I was just coming out to ask one more time – come sleep with me tonight, Mercer. If you truly think that everything will be okay, then I believe you, and wouldn’t you rather snuggle up in bed than sleep alone again?”

  Her eyes pleaded with me. I stared at the door, then back at her. Bates had believed me. I had a week to get things straightened out. We had time.

  “Okay, darling,” I said, standing up and pulling her into my arms. “But just so you know, I tend to hog the bed.”

  She winked. “So do I. I guess that means it'll be an all-out war between you and me then.”

  “I guess so.”

  When I was with Val, things felt nice. I felt like for the first time in seemingly forever, I could just relax. I didn't have to be some tough guy. I didn't have to be anything but myself, and she accepted that – the tats, the biker jacket, and the smaller details that made me who I was. Judging by the look in her eyes, she seemed to be saying that even though I was a biker, and that I might have gotten my hands dirty time and time again for the club, she was okay with it. The look in her eyes told me that she knew I wasn't just the kutte and the Harley, but there was more to me. She looked at me like she could actually see the person I am at heart.

  It made me believe that all of the things I'd done were irrelevant and nothing more than water under the bridge when I was with her. Val had a deep impact on me – one I never saw coming, but it was one that I liked. She made me feel things I hadn't felt before. She made me want to be a better man for her, and for Laila.

  Simply put, Val made me want to be good again. Hell, she almost made me want to settle down and give up my old life completely.

  Almost.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Mercer

  My phone rang, pulling me out of a deep sleep. I reached for it quickly, hoping to answer it before it woke Laila or Val. Through bleary eyes in the darkness of the room, I looked at the lit-up screen, saw the number, and just about shit myself.

  It was Bates.

  What the hell did he want? I looked at the time and saw that it was four in the goddamned morning. What the hell was with the early morning call? Or was it more likely, a late night for him? And what did it mean?

  I didn't answer and canceled the call. I didn't want to know right then and there, but the phone buzzed a second later.

  “Who's calling at this hour?” Val mumbled beside me. I prayed she was just talking in her sleep.

  “No one important,” I told her, flipping the phone on silent. “Just one of the boys from the club. I'll be back.”

  Val rolled over and soon she was asleep again. My own breathing and heart rate started to slow, returning to normal. Until Bates was calling me again.

  Fuck.

  I climbed out of bed and shut the door behind me. I had nowhere I could go to talk safely; nowhere that Val wouldn't hear me. Except for the patio. I rushed outside and picked up on Bates's fourth call.

  “About damn time,” he growled at the other end of the line.

  “Sorry, I was asleep. What's up?”

  “I talked to the client about that job you're supposed to be doing,” Bates said. “I'm sorry, Mercer, but there's no more time.”

  Crap.

  I could probably fake Val's death and use that time to get her down to Mexico. Once I'd offered up some proof that she was “dead,” I could slip off and get down there too. Maybe we could just run off, get away from all of this and never look back.

  “Fi
ne. I'll get it done – ”

  “No, man. You don't understand,” he said. “You're off this job, so stop stalking the girl and get your ass back to the clubhouse. Whatever happens to her is no longer club business.”

  “You're going rogue?”

  Bates was quiet. That was a dangerous proposition. If the club knew that he was going off on his own, to kill an innocent girl in a money-for-hire plot without their consent, things would be mighty tricky. This had to be a club vote, and if Bates decided to take it all into his own hands, he was setting himself up for trouble.

  I knew that Bates would lie about it. He had to. But I waited for his response anyway. I was hoping for either a piece of leverage to use against him, or to at least make him reconsider what he was doing and keep me on the job.