by Laura Day
I wasn't a woman. I wasn't going to bow down and take it. Ricky was going to feel what it was like when somebody his own size threw a punch back.
No, Ricky wasn't my concern.
“MERCER!” she shouted at me, nearly hysterical. “Stop this nonsense. Let's just get out of town for the night and plan our next move – ”
I cut her off. “No, Val. Because let's face it, you'll always be looking behind you. You'll always be wondering if they found you – or when they will. You're always going to be wondering when the next shoe is going to drop and that's no way to live. That's no way for your daughter to live. I screwed up from the start by not being honest with you, by not building your trust. I promise you that I'm going to make sure I don't make another mistake like that. And I'm damn sure not going to leave those assholes alive and able to torment you. I'm going to make this right. I swear to you that I'm going to make this right.”
Chapter Thirty Four
Mercer
The plan – such as it was – was simple. I'd drop Val and Laila off at a hotel to wait for their first chance to get out of town. Then I'd go do my thing. And when it was done, and Val didn't have to worry about her future, I'd join her.
“I'll give you some cash, and you hop on the first Greyhound bus that comes by,” I said. “There is a station across the street from the hotel. And until it comes, don't you dare answer the door to anyone but me, got it?”
“Got it,” she said.
“You just get you and your baby on a bus and get the hell out of here,” I said, trying to stress the importance of what I was saying – Val could be downright defiant if she didn't want to do something. “I don't care where you go, but you need to get out of here. You need to get as far away from here as you possibly can.”
“You're not going to come with us?” she asked me.
“Do you want me to?”
She shrugged and tried to act like she didn't care. But I saw something in her eyes that told me differently. I couldn't quite interpret her exact thoughts, but I was positive I saw something in them that said she wanted me by her side. Or maybe, it was just wishful thinking on my part. My head was so cloudy, I wasn't sure of anything at the moment.
Which was a rare and somewhat disconcerting feeling for me. I was always so sure of my actions. I didn't spend a lot of time doubting or second-guessing myself. I charted a course of action and then did it.
Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd be able to get back to her. So the last thing I wanted to do was make promises to her that I couldn't keep. Depending on what happened and how things went down, I might not be alive to go with her. Plus, I assumed after everything that happened, she might prefer to go alone. She didn't feel like she could trust me, after all.
“I'd feel safer, maybe,” she said softly.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, somewhat surprised by her admission. “I thought you didn't trust me.”
“I didn't say I trusted you yet,” she said, defiantly raising her chin, which was something I adored about her, truth be told. She was so feisty. “It's just that I'd feel safer with you by my side than without you.”
I cracked a smile. She wanted me to join her. That much was clear. I'd correctly interpreted the look I'd seen in her eyes. She just wasn't willing to admit it – at least, not fully. And she might still be mad at me, but she was starting to forgive me too. That much was also clear to me.
“We'll see what happens, Val,” I said, reaching over and giving her a knee a squeeze. “I don't want to make promises I can't keep. The last thing I want to do is disappoint you. Again.”
It was as honest an answer as I could give her. After all, there was no guarantee I was coming out of this whole mess alive. Or at least, not winding up in prison. I had no idea how this was all going to play out, and it made me nervous to not have a lay of the land. I always had a plan and a good idea of how things were going to break. Going in blind like this – it rattled me. More than I was willing to admit. Even to myself.
In my heart, I knew I wanted to be with her. I wanted to be with her every day. But I also didn't want to set her up for disappointment either. I'd already done enough of that. I wanted to be honest with her and never hide anything from her. Not anymore.
“Shit,” I said, staring out the rearview mirror. “Get down again, Val.”
“What is it?” she asked, trying to look back. “I don't see anything.”
“Just get down,” I said, my voice firm. “Now.”
She did as she was told, though I could see her eyes widen as the fear stole across her features once more.
There wasn't anything to see from behind. The problem wasn't behind us, it was in front of us. Every fucking member of the club was parked on the side of the road. Lined up like little tin soldiers as if they were waiting on us. Probably were.
Bates, of course, was front and center. His bike and helmet were unmistakable.
They were blocking the road ahead of us, which caused me to slow down. I could, of course, plow right through them – and was tempted to. But there were a lot of them, and while I could probably do it in the truck, we'd likely still be hurt or killed in the process. Especially Laila who wasn't restrained. Not to mention the fact that if I ran down the club and killed a bunch of them, that was a guaranteed one-way ticket to prison.
Reluctantly, I stopped the truck. I left it running and simply stared through the windshield at them, trying to figure out what my next move was going to be.
“Where's the girl?” Bates called out.
Ricky was standing next to him, a smug smirk on his face. Abuse aside, I could see why Val thought he was such a prick – he just looked like one. I found myself sitting there, wanting to punch him in the face because he looked like such an arrogant, smarmy prick.
“Yeah, where's my bitch?” Ricky hurled, making the blood inside of me boil.
If that made my blood boil, though, I couldn't imagine what it did to poor Val. I glanced down at her and saw that her lower lip was trembling while her eyes were as large as saucers. There was a look of pure contempt, bordering on rage on her face. She held a hand that was trembling every bit as much as her lower lip over Laila's mouth.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” I said.
“Like hell you don't,” Bates said. “We saw you pull out of the club. And whaddya know, little Miss Queenie was nowhere to be found after you split. Her car was still there, so that could only mean one thing.”
“She must've run off on foot, man,” I called. “I don't know what to tell ya.”
“Get out of the fucking truck, man.”
McCoy had rejoined the group, and Abrams was there too. Alive, but beaten up and bloodied. He stood off to the side, glaring daggers at me as he leaned up against his bike. Or what was left of his bike. It was beaten up worse than he was. Frankly, I was shocked it was still running well enough for him to have gotten back to the club on it.
Jax and some of my friends were there too. Obviously, they'd been ordered to be there by Bates – a show of strength and solidarity by the club. But none of them looked too pleased about being there.
“Did you shut down this whole fucking road just for me, man?” I asked.
“Get out of the truck, Mercer.” Bates raised a gun, pointing it right at me through the window. “Or I'll drag your dead body out of it. Your choice.”
I could have shot him where he stood, sure. But then I would have had an entire club ready to fight back. And I wasn't sure I'd survive that. Not to mention the fact that Val and the baby would probably get killed in the crossfire along with me. No, it was better to be calm and play along for the moment. Make smart choices, let it all play out, and pick my spot.
I opened the door to the truck. Val reached out and tried to stop me, but I brushed her hand away without even looking at her. I hoped maybe if I kept them occupied, they wouldn't bother searching the truck for her.
My hope didn't last long, though. Ricky rushed over to the passenger side and pulle
d the door open.
“Hi there, baby,” he said. “Long time, no see. I've missed ya.”
Val let out a scream, and I watched Ricky pull her out of the truck by her hair – Laila screaming along with her mother.
Clenching my fists to my sides, I turned and started to go to her, but Bates stopped me. I looked down at the barrel of the gun he'd stuck in my chest and gritted my teeth, letting out a low growl.
“Let us handle her,” he said.
“She's just a girl,” I muttered.
“She's our job, Mercer. Nothing more, nothing less.”
I watched as the club members surrounding us looked between Val and me, almost like this was the first they'd heard of her. Maybe it was. I knew that Jax and a few others knew I had a job to do, and how Bates had assigned me to carry out a hit. But apparently, nobody knew who the target was. And seeing her there, in the flesh, with a child in a carrier on her chest – I really wanted to think that my guys felt something for her. I liked to think this wasn't what they had in mind and that they – like me – were questioning what in the hell Bates was doing.
I wanted to believe that, but who knew what any of them were really thinking. This wasn't the club I remembered from back in the day. These weren't the same guys, and most of them didn't have the same sort of moral compass us old-timers had.
“Now, since we have the girl, you're free to go, if you'd like,” Bates said. “Just give us your cut and go.”
“Really? Just like that? You're just going to let me go?” I spat. “Or are you planning on just shooting me in the back later, when I'm not looking or expecting it?”
“That's not what we're about, Mercer. And you know it.”
“Maybe we weren't about shit like that, back in the old days. But today? I don't know what we're about anymore,” I said. “Killing innocent women, leaving a child without her mother and in the hands of an abusive father – all because some woman beating asshole waved some cash at us? Nah, Bates, I don't know this club anymore. I don't want to know this club anymore. This was never what we were about. Never what we stood for.”
I reached into the cab of the truck for my kutte and threw it at Bates' feet. He looked down at it and then back up at me, an inscrutable expression on his face.
“At one time, wearing The Prophets kutte meant something,” I said. “It was something to be proud of. But now, the Prophets are all just about a greedy asshole of a president who kills women to pad their pockets.”
I turned toward the men around Bates, pointing at Val who was still being held by her hair, Laila screaming and thrashing at her chest as Ricky smiled with glee. I looked each of the men in the eye and though a few looked back at me defiantly – Bates' guys – most of them stared at the ground as if they were ashamed. As they should be. As I was.
“Is this what you want to represent?” I asked them. “Jax, man, tell me the truth. Is this what you want to be part of? Is this the direction you want to see this club go in – executing innocent women for some goddamn cash? Is that what the Prophets has become? And you are all okay with that?”
When I called him out by name, Jax's eyes fell, and I could see the conflict written upon his face, plain as day. I knew the kid. He was no angel, but he also wasn't a prick like Bates. And he wasn't a cold-blooded killer. In my heart of hearts, I didn't think he was the type who would be comfortable killing a woman, money or no money.
“Because you do know this woman is goin' to die, right? And if she does – and all of you do nothing to stop it – then all of you may as well have pulled the trigger yourselves,” I pressed. “If you don't stop this – ”
A gunshot sent a jolt of fear through me, but I wasn't going to let anybody see it. I controlled my body and managed to not give even the slightest start. I knew I hadn't taken a bullet, so I as calmly as I could, I turned and looked around, assessing the situation. For a moment, my biggest fear was that maybe Ricky had put a bullet into Val. And if that was the case, all hell was about to break loose. I turned to her, ready to move toward Ricky, but let out a silent sigh of relief when I saw that she was fine. Shaken, but fine. And bullet wound free. Ricky was indeed holding a gun, and I could see a thin tendril of smoke wafting out of the barrel, but it wasn't pointed at Val. It was pointed at me.
He'd apparently tried to put a bullet in me, but was a bad shot and missed. Thankfully, he was as much of an incompetent moron as he was a useless prick.
I slid my hand down to my belt, reaching for my own gun. I rested my hand on the butt of it but kept it in the holster. Just having my hand placed upon it brought me some sense of peace, at least. Knowing it was there. Especially knowing that I would get Ricky before he managed to straight shoot enough to hit anybody but himself. That was all I needed. A little reassurance. I knew I couldn't start firing, but if I needed to protect Val, I could. Even if it meant I went down too. It wasn't my first choice, but I was willing to do that, though. For her.
Ricky tossed Val to the side, throwing her to the ground – or at least trying to. McCoy thankfully caught her, which was all that kept she and Laila from hitting the pavement. He held onto her firmly, reminding her that she was still a prisoner, but he didn't manhandle her nearly as harshly as Ricky had. He kept hold of her arms as Ricky came toward me, gun pointed in my face. Or at least, as close to my face as he could manage. Though he gritted his teeth and tried to control it, I could still see his hand trembling.
Just as I'd thought. He was nothing but a coward and was completely unable to do any of the dirty work himself.
“You need to stay the fuck out of this,” he said. “I don't know who the fuck you are, but you need to shut your fucking mouth. This ain't got nothin' to do with you, man.”
Now that Val was safely away from Ricky, I pulled my gun out of the holster and pointed it at Ricky. My back was to Bates, which wasn't ideal and made me nervous – especially given the fact that I had a gun in his client's face, but I could only focus on one threat at a time. I could almost feel Bates' gun pointed at my back and felt an itch between my shoulder blades because of it. The only thing that comforted me was knowing that even if I went down, I was at least going to take Ricky to hell with me. It wasn't much, but it was something.
And when I did put a bullet into his head, there would be no more money and then, no reason to kill Val. Didn't mean they wouldn't, but it would increase her chances of survival greatly.
“Motherfucker!” Ricky shouted, firing the gun.
Predictably, he was shaking so much that his shot missed me – by a long shot. I simply stared him down, doing my best to not pull the trigger or do anything that was going to cause me to catch a bullet in the back just yet. But as I stood there, I saw Ricky's eyes widen and then heard a sound behind me that I instantly recognized – and knew wasn't a good thing.
There was a low groaning – the sound of someone in pain. I heard movement as several of the guys quickly rushed over to the man who'd fallen. I would have preferred to keep my eyes on Ricky – or just shoot him in the head and be done with it, but I needed to know what was going on. Warily, I turned my head to look, and I saw Bates down on the ground.
It wasn't a feeling of relief that washed over me exactly, but I sure as hell wasn't in mourning when I saw a hole in Bates' chest with blood pouring from the wound. His eyes were wide with shock, and he looked at me, seeming to be asking me for help. I simply looked at him and said nothing, but I wasn't surprised in the least when I saw the gun in his hand. Had he been coming for me? I figured that he had – Bates needed to protect his client and the money, of course. But I'd never know for sure. I wasn't going to ask him, but I knew there was no way he was going to survive taking a direct shot in the chest like that.
Even as I stood there, I saw Bate's face became pale, and his breathing became labored and ragged. I knew he didn't have a whole lot longer left on this planet. I looked over at Ricky and saw that his eyes were wider than dinner plates and the gun in his hand was trembling so hard, I was ha
lf afraid he was going to squeeze off another shot without meaning to.
“If I had to guess, I'd say you haven't ever killed a man before, huh?” I teased him. “Am I right?”
I couldn't go to Bates, couldn't try to help. Not with Ricky here. Besides, even though Bates had been my friend once upon a time, that bridge had already burned long ago. My feelings for him, any emotion I might have about his passing, were negligible after what he tried to do to Val. Knowing he was about to die, I didn't celebrate the fact. I felt nothing but… numb.
“He's dying!” one of the guys said, looking at me as if I were a goddamn doctor or something. “Do something.”