Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)

by M. N. Forgy

  “Where are you taking me?”

  He flips the lights on in the bathroom, sits on the toilet and starts running water for a bath.

  “We’re going to take a bath, when we’re both naked and in a tub of bubbles we seem to make better sense of shit.”

  He pours in a bunch of bubbles, the sprinkle smelling kind and uses his feet to kick off his boots.

  I nibble on my nails, stalling. I know climbing in that bath, everything is going to surface. Things I’m nervous as hell to tread through. Like the pregnancy, and Cross. After everything that has happened, I just want to climb in bed, throw the sheet over our heads, and hide from the world.

  Pulling his shirt over his head, he steps toward me. His strong fingers grabbing the hem of the button up shirt that is too big for me, and slides it up over my head. A whimper falls from my lips as the material slides along my grazed arm. The soft fabric feeling like razor blades as it passes.

  “It’ll hurt for a while.” His stare is intense, as he looks it over. His fingers trail under the elastic bands of my bra, his eyes looking my breast over before meeting my eyes.

  I turn, and he unclasps my bra like a pro. It’s unsettling how quick he is.

  Hooking his hands in the waistband of my pants he pulls them and my panties down. When they pool at my feet, I kick my boots off. Standing there naked, a chill runs up my body. I rub at my arms, and look in the mirror. My eyes fall to my midsection. I don’t look pregnant. Zeek’s eyes reflect in the mirror as he looks at what I’m looking at, we’re both thinking the same thing.

  “Cross wanted to keep me, hide me away until I had the baby and then raise it as a weapon.” Tears threaten to fill my eyes, but I push them away. I won’t let that happen.

  “I’ll kill him before he gets the chance. I got Felix and Machete looking for him now.” I swallow, thankful I have Felix and Machete in my life. “In the bath, let’s go.” He pats at my bottom. Turning, he climbs in first, and I settle in between his legs. Sitting back against his warm chest, he slides my hair over to one shoulder, and dries my tears.

  “So, it’s true. You’re pregnant?” he whispers in my ear. Closing my eyes, my stomach clenches tightly when remembering the episode with Frank and Cross and the test. It could be traumatizing if I let the memory overwhelm me, but I won’t. I’m stronger than that, and can overcome anything with Zeek—and my gun—by my side.

  “Yes. I mean, they made me piss on the test, and it was positive.” My toes play with the water coming out of the faucet. “The lines were faint, so I don’t think I’m far along.”

  Silence fills the bathroom, the only noise surrounding us is the water splashing into the tub.

  I take in a deep breath, scared of what he’s going to say. People break up over things like this. I don’t know if I can just walk away from Zeek after everything we’ve been through.

  His fingers running along the top of my shoulder. “Have you had any symptoms or anything?”

  I shrug, pulling my knees up and hugging them. “Now that I think about it I have been kind of nauseous, my boobs hurt, a lot actually.”

  That awkward silence thing happening again.

  “Do you want to keep it?”

  Wow, the question of the hour. Do I want to keep the baby? If I do, I’ll be put on desk duty, if I even get my job back, that is. Not to mention the father is a criminal, putting us both in danger. I guess that’s not fair, my job is equally as dangerous. But what if Cross comes for the baby?

  “You’re not sure?” he answers for me.

  “I don’t know. There are so many pros and cons, I just…”

  “What is bothering you?”

  “Us, look at us. We are not the safest, or the most normal couple to raise a child. The baby was used against us and it’s not even here yet. I’m scared, I could be a terrible parent. I can see it now, I’ll be preaching about school rules, and how to handle bullies the right way. Plus, my job. If I even get it back, I’ll be put on desk duty for a while. I hate desk duty. And Cross…he’s missing, what if he comes for the baby?” I ramble. Diving into everything that has crossed my mind since I found out I was pregnant.

  Zeek grabs at my shoulders, pulling me back into his strong hold.

  “That won’t happen.” He sounds so sure.

  “You weren’t there, you didn’t see the look in Cross’s eyes. He wants this baby.”

  “Cross is running, if he comes back it’ll be for me, baby. Not our kid.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Cross was just trying to get in your head, that’s what he does. He was toying with you, like cat and mouse. You are the least of his problems.” He kisses my forehead.

  “You think keeping the baby is a good idea?” My chest blooms with uncertainty, the stress making me dizzy.

  “I think everything you named off is crap every parent worries about. I’m scared, too, but just think about it. Take your time trying to put everything back in order, babe.” He kisses my temple, and stands, grabbing a towel.

  “Don’t be so noncommittal, tell me, do you want to keep it?” Gesturing for me to stand he wraps me in a towel, turning me to face him.

  “I want whatever will make you happy. I’ve never thought I’d have kids, but if I’m going to have them, I’d want to have them with you. I also think we’d be the perfect parents. Where you’re strict and rule abiding, I’m loose and fun. I think we’d balance each other out nicely.”

  His words roll through my head like a stray wheel bouncing down the freeway.

  “Do you think what Frank said is true, about Cross being your dad?” The words spill from my mouth before I can stop them.

  He tenses, and I cringe at my stupid question. The idea of Cross being the grandfather though, that his blood is running through me, has been on my mind since Frank revealed the dirty secret.

  “I do.” His words are soft, and almost pained. Why did I ask such a stupid question?

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “It’s okay, baby, don’t be sorry. My mother hated my father, it doesn’t surprise me she cheated. The way she looked at me as if I was the Devil, it was because she knew the Devil was in my soul. My father might have been the gatekeeper of Hell, but Cross fucking ran that shit. And I…I’m the prodigy of a very fucked up situation.”

  “Don’t say that. It isn’t true…you’re too hard on yourself. I wish you could see what I see.” Hearing my own words I know for a fact that Zeek will be a great dad, and nothing like Cross or the man he thought was his dad. Zeek has compassion, even if he doesn’t want to see it. I see it.

  Squatting down, he opens the lower cabinet and pulls out my medical supplies. A cop can never be too prepared, though I am surprised he knows the supplies are there.

  “Give me your arm.” I try to adjust the towel so that only my arm peeks out. Zeek grips the towel in his large hand and yanks it down. His eyes pinning my naked breasts before sweeping down. Rolling my bottom lip between my teeth I return the eye fuck. He’s so rippled, and his cock is hard and veiny. Releasing my bottom lip I have to release the breath that is constricting my chest when I look back up at his face. The way he looks at me as if he’s ready to pin me down and fuck me into oblivion is the biggest turn on.

  He blinks rapidly, as if to clear his mind and grips my hand to hold my arm out. Slowly he wraps my arm in gauze and an adhesive bandage, his touch soft, and eyes focused.

  “You’re good at that.”

  “Lots of practice.” His eyes never leave my arm as he finishes.

  Setting what’s left of the supplies on the counter, his chest flush with mine, I have to look up to see his eyes. The warmth radiating off of him my aphrodisiac, I slide my fingertip up his taut chest.

  A low growl vibrates in his chest as his hands palm my ass, and his fingers dig into my cheeks before picking me up. His dark eyes set on mine as we become level.

  “Stop looking at me like that. I’m trying to be a gentleman and let you rest, but every
inch of me— including my cock—wants to be buried deep inside of you until the sun rises.” He inhales a breath so big both of us raise an inch when his chest rises. I don’t want to sleep, I want him so damn bad it hurts. Though, I am not sure I could keep up with as tired as my mind and body are. “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow is damage control, baby.”

  ***

  LYING IN BED I STARE at the ceiling, petting Jinx. Zeek fell asleep a while ago, but I can’t sleep. The words abortion and PTA meetings making my head throb. My heart stops beating when I think of Cross and his intentions. I don’t even know how far along I am. Placing my hands on my abdomen I try and count in my head the days from my last period.

  I think I’m maybe three weeks pregnant. Turning over I grab my phone from the nightstand and Google three weeks pregnant.

  Looking at pictures our baby looks like a little shrimp. Then I Google abortion, and three weeks pregnant and I can’t stop the audible gasp from leaving my mouth. There are pictures of little hands and feet, and tiny little babies everywhere. Those can’t be accurate, right? Turning my phone off, I toss it on the nightstand and roll on my side.

  I sigh and shift in bed. I don’t think I could get an abortion and be okay with myself. I love Zeek, and if he’s willing to help me, I think we’ll be great, or at least not the worst parents.

  Sadly, in my job I’ve seen those kind of parents. Houses that have used diapers, and food all along the floor. Drugs on the coffee tables next to bottles and toys, and the kids are in cribs with roaches and bed sores.

  I hate those kinds of house calls.

  I wonder if it’s a boy. I can see Zeek now buying little biker boots, and toy guns. If it’s a girl she’ll be running around in a pink tutu with biker boots. I smile at the image of our kid running around like a bad ass.

  I close my eyes, clearing my head of all thoughts. Just as I find myself drifting off to sleep, Zeek’s hand travels against my flesh. The warmth from his palm seeping into my skin as he rests it on the lower half of my stomach.

  “Mine. Both of you,” he whispers in his sleep.

  ***

  “HEY, WERE YOU GOING TO SLEEP the entire day away, baby?” Zeek’s voice whispers in my ear, his hands kneading my ass. I moan into him, and his hands sweep around my front finding my clit. We didn’t bother with getting dressed last night. We fell in and crashed.

  I was nervous I might have nightmares, but I was so exhausted I didn’t even dream.

  My head falls back onto his shoulder, his teeth biting down on mine. Two of his fingers slip into my wetness with ease and my legs widen to allow him to fully push them in.

  “Someone is ready for me this morning.” He pulls his fingers from me, and my eyes snap open.

  “Why’d you stop?”

  “I let you rest last night, I can’t stand another minute without having my dick in you, Jillian.”

  His bare cock pushes into my heat, his hands resting on each butt cheek. A piece of me wonders if he’ll take me there again. It was something I wasn’t expecting to like, but God, I did so much. Everyone should have butt sex.

  Using his hands, he pushes and pulls my body onto his cock, using my ass cheeks as handle bars.

  Looking over my shoulder he has his mouth parted in a sexy way, his forehead creased with exertion. His chest is taught, his biceps flexed to the max. He slows his pace, and it catches me off guard. Zeek has never gone slow, even when I had my wreck he was hard, and in control.

  His eyes looking at me as he slowly pumps in and out of me. That look on his face, it cuts right down to my heart. It’s a look all woman want. Like he might lose me tomorrow, and if he did he might die. It’s right then that I know I’ll never love another man like I do Zeek. He and I may not be good for one another, may be different from every aspect, but it doesn’t fade what I feel for him. If anything, it fuels it.

  “I love you,” I mouth, my head bumping into the headboard.

  “I love you,” he mouths back.

  My core tingles with a pleasuring warmth. Turning my head into the mattress, a moan spills from my mouth as an orgasm rocks my limbs so hard I can barely breathe.

  Zeek’s cock pulses as he spills warm cum into me. A flash of heat starts in my spine and spreads through my limbs as pleasure knifes through my body.

  Falling next to me, we both pant. His eyes finding mine.

  “I’m keeping the baby.” I word vomit. I cringe at my after sex talk.

  He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “I hoped you would.”

  “Then why didn’t you say keep it?” I’m a little angry he made me decide everything.

  “I didn’t want my opinion to influence your decision. If you didn’t want to keep it deep down, and you did because of me then you’d just resent me later.”

  “I hate how smart you are sometimes.” I narrow my eyes at him.

  Looking at the ceiling, Alessandra comes to mind.

  “I need to tell Alessandra.” God, I can literally hear her gasp from here when I tell her I’m pregnant.

  “Why don’t you go see her, I’m sure she’s worried about you. I’m going to go get my club back in order.” He raises from the bed.

  “Is it safe?” I swallow hard, knowing Cross is out there somewhere is unsettling.

  “I’ll have Mac tail you. What did you actually think? I was just going to let you go off by yourself?” He’s serious.

  “Seriously? I don’t need a babysitter, I can take care of myself.”

  He gives my ass a smack.

  “It’s non-negotiable. I need to get to my club, so either you can come with me until I’m done, or Mac can follow you.”

  “Gah! You’re impossible!”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Jillian

  GETTING IN MY JEEP I head to the Blue Café, if Alessandra is not there then I’ll swing by her place and wait for her till she shows up. Glancing in my rear view mirror Mac is right behind me on his motorcycle. I have to admit, I feel safer knowing he’s there.

  Noticing Alessandra’s squad car in the parking lot, I pull in and go inside. She’s sitting in our booth with a plate of food in front of her, her head shoved into a folder, with a pen in hand.

  Sliding into the booth I grab a fry and pop it into my mouth. Her eyes flick up angrily, and her face pales.

  “OH MY GOD!” She jumps over the table, pulling me into a death-gripping hug. “I have been so fucking worried,” she cries into my shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” I laugh, trying to pry her arms off me. She tightens her hug, nearly cutting my breathing off. “Love me less!” I croak, slapping at her hands.

  She pulls back, and wipes at her teary eyes.

  “Where have you been?” Sitting down in her seat, my eyes fall to the folder. There are print outs of my face on a missing person’s poster. “Oh, yeah, I was going to put them up today.”

  I smile. It’s nice to know if I go missing someone around here would look for me.

  I tell her everything about what happened. How I didn’t kill my father, how we ran to the Devil’s Dust, about Frank, even Cross, and how it all ended.

  She sits there staring at me, mouth popped open.

  “Say something,” I insist.

  “Holy shit.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “Looks like our favorite outlaw saved the day then.”

  Looking out the window, I brace myself. “There is one other thing.” Glancing back at her, her eyebrows raise in waiting. “I’m pregnant.”

  Her face goes lax. “Shut up, that’s so not funny.” I don’t laugh. “You’re serious?” Her eyes widen like saucers. “Are you keeping it?”

  I nod, biting on my bottom lip. “You know you’ll have desk duty for like a year, right?”

  I scoff. “I don’t even have a job right now, I was wanted last time I checked.”

  Her lips twist sympathetically. “You should just go to the department and explain to them what happened.”

  “If I do that then I throw Zeek under
the bus of the justice system. They’re going to want to know who killed my father, and then they’re going to want proof.”

  “I see your point. Tell them Cross shot your dad then. Where is the weapon now?”

  “I don’t know, we ran, remember?”

  “That’s right…Well, you know as well as I do, no evidence, no crime.”

  I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s making me sick to my stomach just thinking about going to the department and lying.

  “How is my mother? Have you talked to her today?” I change the subject.

  “Not today, she’s probably getting ready for the funeral. It’s in an hour.”

  My stomach drops, my head falling in my hands. A funeral, how could I forget such a thing?

  “I didn’t even think to ask.”

  “Well, you’ve had your hands full with being kidnapped and getting knocked up, I could see that. You’re going though, right?”

  Taking my bottom lip between my teeth I look out the window of our booth. “I’ve learned some interesting things about my father over the last week, he was not who I thought he was.”

  “I’ve heard stories.”

  “You have?”

  “I mean, it was just talk around the department. I didn’t think any of them were true. Were they?”

  Inhaling a breath I think about what Zeek told me, memories of my father resurfacing. I was angry with my father with the way he lied, and presented himself as something he wasn’t. How he set me up in a department so dirty, I was bound to walk away with stained hands, or be killed. But, the moments that meant the most to me, even if they were pretending, they’ll always be a part of me. “Probably so.”

  “Wow.” Her eyebrows reach her hairline, her jaw dropping dramatically. “So you’re not going then?”

  “I need to see my mother, and even if my father was a creep, I can’t shake the thoughts of the times he wasn’t a Lieutenant and was actually a father.” I look at her, and she nods in understanding.

  “I get that, I totally do. You’re a bigger person than me though, ‘cause I’d hike my beautiful black skirt up, and piss on his grave if he was my father.” The corner of my mouth curves into a smirk imagining Alessandra pissing on a grave.