Mercer: Prophets MC

by Laura Day

  Natural Light, I thought to myself as I looked down at a can on the floor. I didn't drink that shit. Someone else was drinking shitty ass beer in my home. I thought it had to be one of the lower ranking guys, someone who couldn't afford the good beer who'd been assigned to sit in my house and wait for me.

  But where was he?

  My eyes circled the room before landing on the bathroom door. It was closed.

  I moved over that way, carefully avoiding making any noise and steadied the gun as I stood there, preparing to kick in the door, when lo and behold, it opened.

  A strange man – somebody I'd never met before – stared at me wide-eyed and afraid. I watched his eyes move from my face to the gun in my hand and saw him begin to tremble. His beard was long, scraggly, and mostly gray. And his eyes were glossed over as if he was one some strong shit.

  Oh, and he was buck ass naked.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I asked.

  The man stepped back, walking back into the bathroom until he was up against the wall. “I'm sorry, man. I didn't know anyone lived here – ”

  “Did Bates send you?”

  “Bates? I don't know no Bates – ”

  Was he lying? Not that it mattered. In his present state, he was no threat to me. He wasn't even wearing clothes, much less carrying a loaded gun to kill me with. Unless something was shoved up his ass, there was no way this man had a gun or a knife. Which meant I had the drop on him and there was nothing he could do about it.

  Still, I held my gun steady on him, just in case.

  “Then answer my question,” I growled. “Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?”

  “My name's John,” he stammered. “I umm well, I lived down the street from you, man. Not that long ago. Maybe like six months ago? I lost my place, been living on the streets for a while – ”

  “You're homeless?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he said. “I just needed a place to crash until I got back on my feet, that's all. Need to get back on my feet. I thought you'd left the place or something, man.”

  “And you thought my house was the place to do that?”

  “No, nah man,” he said, the terror in his eyes obvious. “Well, yeah, I guess so. I just thought you weren't coming back, and why let a good house go to waste, you know?'

  “No, I don't know,” I said. I saw a shirt and a pair of filthy jeans on the ground at my feet. Kicking it over to him, I snarled, “I'll give you to the count of three to get your fucking clothes back on. After that? You get the hell out of here and don't come back. Find some other shithole to sleep in, I don't give a fuck.”

  John nodded and without another word, reached down to pick up his clothes. I'd never watched a man get dressed so fast. I was pretty sure he wasn't working for Bates, mainly because of how high he was. He could barely put his pants on without falling over. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Had he not squatted at my house – nearly making me blow his fucking brains out because I was already so damn twitchy – I might have had a little more sympathy for the guy.

  But I didn't. Not the barest shred of it.

  I could have killed him, and maybe the old me would have. But there was no reason to shoot the guy now. I had enough shit on my plate already. Having a body to dispose of wasn't what I needed right now, and I certainly couldn't go to the cops after blowing a hole in the guy's head. It may have been considered self-defense, but I couldn't risk the investigation and everything that went with it.

  Before I tossed John back out onto the street, I asked him, “Did you see anyone – anyone at all – stopping by here? Maybe looking around?”

  “Nah, man. It's why I felt like I could stay here. No one came by, no one even seemed to notice I was here.”

  He looked sincere enough, and that was all I needed to know. Bates didn't know where I lived, and for that, I was thankful. It bought me some time to get the truck up and running, to change some clothes and get a disguise together.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Valencia

  It was hours before the club would open and all was still quiet. Sherry was probably passed out, sleeping off another bender somewhere – she had a private room she could sleep in when needed. I slept alongside Laila, but really I just laid there, half awake, listening and thinking. I was trying to figure out where we could go, what we could do, and where we would be safe.

  At the moment, I wasn't sure anywhere in the world was safe for us.

  My phone buzzed again. It had been going off all morning, and I'd just continued to ignore it. It was, of course, Mercer. I checked it this time, and there was another message. I didn't even bother listening to it. I had zero interest in what he had to say, so I just hit “DELETE” with a sigh. When would he realize that I didn't want or need him around me? Around Laila? When would he get the fact that I did not trust him and had to do this alone? Honestly, I wasn't sure who I could trust anymore. Not after all the lies and deception. Not to mention that I was terrified of what would happen if they followed him to me. I couldn't take that risk. There was more on the line than just my life.

  I thought back to what it was like with him and felt a small stab of pain in my heart. With him, I'd felt safe for the first time in a long time, and knowing what I know now, I hated him for making me feel safe. He'd given me a taste of what safety and security felt like and made me want more. But now, there was no going back. There was no way I'd ever have that again. The idea of opening myself up to another man – especially one as mysterious and secretive as Mercer – was stupid. Foolish. I'd put my daughter and myself at risk, and there was no way I'd ever do that again. Not with or for Mercer, and not for anyone else for that matter.

  My phone buzzed again, so I just shut it off. It was well beyond annoying at that point, and my battery was low anyway. I had a charger packed in my bags in the car, but I wasn't even sure where Sherry had left it. Not that I'd need it. I wasn't about to call anyone. Besides, even if I'd had the urge to pick up the phone, who would I call anyway?

  I laid back down next to my baby and closed my eyes when I heard a sound. At first, a rush of fear-fueled adrenaline shot through me. But I remembered where I was and tried to calm myself down.

  It was probably just Sherry, I figured. She was probably up and moving around, stumbling to the bathroom, maybe pouring herself another drink, or doing something else entirely. I closed my eyes again, calming my nerves. I was safe where I was for now. No one would be able to get me. And once Bill came in, and I got my check, we'd be back on the road again.

  We were going to take off and head for somewhere new – maybe rural Nebraska or the Mexico border. I still hadn't decided. I'd love to make it to the east coast – New Hampshire or Vermont sounded absolutely lovely to me and the pictures I'd seen only proved it. Maybe that was where we'd go. Maybe that was where we'd start our new life. Just Laila and me.

  I was drifting off to the thoughts of cool, crisp weather, and colorful fall leaves. Something I'd heard about the Northeast – and was always envious of – was that they had a beautiful fall. Growing up in California, I'd never experienced the seasons like that. I'd never had it, but maybe my daughter would be able to one day.

  I smiled at the thought of playing in the leaves and building a snowman. I felt my body relaxing as I began to drift off into a peaceful state of sleep.

  Bang.

  Another sound. More of Sherry stumbling around, I was sure.

  Voices. Wait, was that Bill? My eyes opened, and I perked up, thinking that he'd come in early after all. Maybe Sherry had talked him into it. Maybe he'd just decided to come in early for a change. The reason didn't matter to me, as long as he was there. I was so ready to get on the road, get away from Vegas, and get on with a new life somewhere else. If he could get me my check earlier and get us out of there, life was good. It would give me time to get it cashed before I hit the road.

  But I soon realized that it wasn't Bill. I heard another man's voice, and he was talking loudly. Almos
t shouting, really.

  And then I heard another loud bang.

  And then another voice. This time, one I recognized.

  Every hair stood up on end as I recognized the voice and could make out his words as clear as day. A shot of adrenaline coursed through me, and I felt myself beginning to tremble. Tears sprung up into my eyes, and my lower lip began to quiver as I listened to him shouting.

  “No,” I whispered to myself. “It can't be. It just can't be.”

  “Where the fuck is she?” Ricky called out. “We know she's here, bitch.”

  They knew I was there. How could they have known? It didn't matter. I needed to get out of there. Right that minute. I started packing up Laila, gently as to not wake her, and quietly so they wouldn't hear me. The last thing I needed was for her to cry and give us both away, so I moved as swiftly and silently as possible.

  There was a back exit that I was going to take. I only hoped that they didn't have a guy out there waiting for me. I wasn't sure where Sherry had taken my car, but I had to get out of there. I couldn't stay there, not with Ricky in the next room. If my car wasn't back there and I couldn't see it when I left the club, I was going to have to leave it. All that mattered at that moment was getting the fuck out of there.

  “I don't know what you're talking about,” Sherry said, slurring her words. “It's just me here. The place doesn't open for a few more hours – ”

  She was cut off by the sound of flesh meeting flesh followed by the sound of something crunching. Her voice came out garbled, and then she let out a blood-curdling scream. She cried out in pain as they did God-knew-what to her. I cringed, feeling awful for leaving her.

  Reaching my phone, I was going to call 9-1-1, but the damn thing wouldn't start up. Low battery, it flashed at me, and the image of a charger popped up on my screen, but that was it.

  Dammit. I cursed myself under my breath. The business phone was out there at the bar, where they were torturing or doing whatever to Sherry. I couldn't make it out there; I'd have to get out of here before I called for help. Placing Laila in the carrier attached to my chest, I made a dash for the door.

  And then a gunshot stopped me in my footsteps.

  Sherry's screams went silent, and an eerie quite filled the club. I knew what that quiet meant.

  Laila started moving around on my chest, her mouth pulled back in a pout. I knew what was coming next, so I covered her mouth and hurried toward the back door, praying I could get her out of there before she started to scream.

  I gritted my teeth and tried to move as slow as possible, while still trying to hurry at the same time – which was a lot harder than it sounded. The goal was obviously, to avoid drawing any unwanted attention to myself. I breathed a silent sigh of relief when I finally managed to reach the back door without tripping over anything or knocking anything over. Reaching out, I tried to make as little noise as possible when I opened the door, cringing and holding my breath when it squeaked as I pulled it open. My heart was hammering inside my chest, fearing they could hear it all the way in the other part of the club.

  Hell, I was terrified they could hear my heart thundering and smell the fear pouring off of me I was sure was stronger than the odor of garlic. Pausing for a moment to listen, I didn't hear anything and hoped that I hadn't given myself away. But as I was about to cross the threshold and step outside, I ran smack dab into my other fear – that there were more of them, outside. In my mind's eye, I saw a group of men waiting for me to step outside. Ready to kill me right then and there.

  I couldn't stay inside though. I knew I had no choice but to chance it since it was only a matter of time before they found me hiding in the back room. Or that Laila started to cry, which would bring them down on me even faster.

  Pulling the door open, I readied myself to make a mad scramble for it. I was more than ready to make a run for it, dashing out the door and across the parking lot. I was hoping that in my mad scramble, I would be able to elude anybody chasing me and just prayed I didn't catch a bullet in the back.

  But my breath caught in my throat, and I thought I might wet myself then and there as I stepped through the doorway and found myself staring straight into a man's broad chest. I didn't even bother looking up as my primal instincts took over and fear-fueled adrenaline coursed through my body. My skin felt like it was on fire and that I was humming with an electricity born of terror and I had to get away. Had to get out of there.

  I tried to be strong, but the fear took hold of me and just before I released a horrified scream, the man I'd run into put his hand over my mouth and held it firm. Like the scream in my throat dying to get out, I was caught. Trapped. I struggled against his hold, but then a familiar voice caught me off guard and stopped me in my tracks.

  “Val, it's me.”

  I looked up and immediately felt tears of relief welling in my eyes. It was Mercer. He'd found me. I didn't know how he'd done it, but he'd found me – and had ridden in to rescue me. I had never felt a feeling of relief or gratefulness so deep or profound in my entire life.

  Mercer took his hand off of my mouth and offered me a smile that said he was as relieved to see me as I was to see him. Though honestly, I didn't think anybody could be even half as relieved as I was at that moment. He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze and then spoke quietly.

  “Come on,” he said, ushering me away from the club. “We have to hurry. They're inside – ”

  “I know,” I cried and couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks. “And I think they killed Sherry.”

  Mercer looked back at the club as if he had half a thought to go inside, but then he glanced back at us, and I saw the curtain of resolve descend over his eyes.

  “We have to get out of here,” he said. “If they killed her, there's nothin’ we can do for her right now anyway. My priority is to get you out of here and keep you both safe. I'll call for help on the road.”

  We quickly crossed the parking lot, and Mercer piled us into a truck I hadn't seen before. Closing the door quietly, he rushed around and climbed into the driver's side and dug some keys out of his pocket. As he slipped them into the ignition and started the engine, I had a moment of doubt and fear. I wasn't entirely sure I should trust him. He'd never done anything to harm me – even though he could have. But after learning what I'd learned, I didn't know if I could believe him. I didn't know if I should believe him. My life and the life of my daughter were hanging in the balance – were literally in Mercer's hands at that moment.

  But what choice did I have? There were things about him that terrified me, but I sure as hell trusted him more than I did the men inside the club right then. Mercer had the opportunity to kill me, but he hadn't. Instead, he'd protected us. Had hidden us. Had kept us safe. That had to count for something, right?

  As I scanned the parking lot through the windshield, I realized that I had no idea what Sherry had done with my car. I didn't know where she'd hidden it, so my options were rather limited at the moment anyway. It was either roll the dice and go with Mercer or stay at the club and take my chances there.

  I had no choice, really. I just hoped that I wasn't wrong about putting my trust in that man.

  Mercer pulled out of the employee parking lot and looked over at me. “Stay low.”

  I ducked low in the seat, trying to hide from sight, just in case they'd stepped back outside. As soon as we were clear, Mercer let out a loud sigh of relief, and his body seemed to relax – a little bit. The man never looked like he ever fully relaxed. I honestly didn't know if he was even capable of it.

  “You can get up now,” he said.

  I snuck a peek through the back window and saw that there was a car behind us. Although I couldn't see it, somewhere behind the car, I could hear the sound of a bike through the open window. It was in the distance, but I could hear it starting to get louder. As I strained my ears to listen, I realized that I could hear several of them, actually. I listened as the engines on the bikes revved up and knew that they w
ere speeding toward us.

  Mercer heard them too, and he kept shooting glances in the rearview mirror, trying to get a fix on them. He pushed down harder on the accelerator, speeding up, and pushed me down lower in the seat again as he pulled his hoodie over his head.

  “Let me just ask you one thing, Val,” he said, his voice low. “Why in the hell would you go somewhere so obvious if you were trying to hide?”

  I sighed. He was right. It was an obvious place to look for me, and I should have known better than to take shelter there. Anybody looking for me would start at the place I worked. Obviously. But I hadn't been thinking clearly. I was out of my mind with fear and didn't know what in the hell I was doing. It's not every day I have men with guns looking for me because they're being paid to kill me.