Mercy's Angels Box Set (Mercy's Angel #1-3)

by Kirsty Dallas

  I shook my head defiantly, the tears still wet on my cheeks as I reached blindly for the soft red blanket on the end of the bed. Larz helped spread it over me. With limbs shaking, my face wet from tears, my heart aching, I closed my eyes and prayed something would steal me away from this awful world, from this awful pain. I was so tired of things hurting me. Damaged beyond repair and everyone here wanted to fix me. You can’t fix the unfixable, Master Jonas had told me until it was etched into my mind. The only person who understood me and could give me what I needed had just thrown me away. Larz was wrong. I wasn’t mad at Mой. I hated him. I could never forgive him for this and I would never see his abandonment as a gift.

  Chapter 12

  BRAIDEN

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  Running my hands through my wet hair, I dug my fingers into my scalp in an attempt to relieve the pounding inside my head. I couldn’t remember a time when I had felt so damn tired. With a quick glance around my familiar room I forced myself to see my things and allow the realization that I was back home to settle in and calm me. Six months I’d been hunting and returned home without success. My team and I had pushed forward hard and wide in an attempt to find Jonas Levier, but the fucker had disappeared off the face of the earth. Not even Alexander’s contacts could locate the slippery son-of-a-bitch. Bomber and Gabbie had remained stoically at my side the entire time. Several times I had tried to send them home, but they refused. They too had become personally invested in seeing Jonas Levier buried. Our hunt had taken us to places that I wish I could vanquish from my memories. We had seen girls, some just barely living, some dead, all at the hands of Jonas Levier. The man was a monster and Emily had survived eight years under his rule. I had come to wonder how she had done it, how she had made it out alive. It basically came down to strength. The last time I had seen that battered girl she had been on the floor of her sister’s house, sobbing. That memory was a plague to my mind, stuck on a torturous loop. It was there when I opened my eyes in the morning and when I closed them at night. Emily’s pain and sorrow was what kept me going though. On the days when it got to be too much, when the hunt seemed too hard, I just had to remember that moment when I left Emily with her sister. When she begged for my control and command, I wanted nothing more than to give it to her. It was that moment that forced the anger back into my veins, and I would be ready to hunt again. Unfortunately, while my body and mind was now willing, the trail had gone cold. Jonas Levier must have been a magician, because he had vanished without a trace. For the first time in my life, I was admitting defeat, at least for now. It was time to retreat and regroup. It would only be a matter of time before he slipped up and then he had better kiss his ass goodbye. I was going to kill that motherfucker. A knock on my open door brought my attention away from thoughts of the scumbag and back to the present. Dillon leaned against the door. He too looked tired. We had all invested a great deal of time and effort into finding Jonas and keeping Emily and Rebecca safe.

  “How about an all-day breakfast at The Pit Stop?”

  My stomach growled as if on command. Benny’s greasy, heart stopping breakfast, which was served at any time of the day or night, was not only a pleasure to eat, but an honor. I nodded and stood, grabbing my oldest and most comfortable jeans off the bed. As I went to drop the towel, I turned to Dillon. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his eyes set on the window behind me. He’d seemed a little out of it since I’d been back, but I hadn’t pried. If he had a problem that he needed help with, he would ask. And, to be honest, I wasn’t big on sharing feelings and stuff. I don’t know if that was a male thing or a me thing. Either way, I wasn’t going to be having a heart to heart with my cousin anytime soon.

  “You just going to stand there and watch me dress?”

  That brought Dillon back to present and he scowled. “You’re the one with the bedroom kink, not me.” Dillon disappeared back down the hall and I pulled my jeans on.

  My bedroom kinks had been placed on temporary vacation. I had indulged in a very vanilla one night stand during a moment of anger and booze induced insanity two months ago, but it had been unfulfilling to say the least. My mind and thoughts were constantly on finding my target and a battered, blue eyed angel. I hadn’t seen nor spoken to Emily since the day I walked away, leaving her in the hands of Rebecca, Charlie, and Larz. Of course I was kept abreast with her progress. Three weeks after I left, Emily had been sent to a private psychiatric facility in Florida. Larz didn’t go into detail, but I didn’t miss the pain in his voice when he told me about it. Having Emily committed had been hard. She had been terrified and felt betrayed by not only me, but Rebecca and Charlie as well. Larz remained with her during the entire ordeal though, and I can’t deny that it made me more than a little resentful. I wanted to be the one who helped her, who held her when she cried, and silenced the demons that followed her night and day. Walking away had been the right thing to do though. If I had stayed, Emily would have clung to my dominance like a drowning woman. She needed to break free; she needed to find her own mind again. I also knew, without a doubt, I would have never been able to keep my hands to myself.

  Dillon found the facility Emily had stayed in and I had paid for it. Enough cash made sure Larz was able to stay in the family quarters that would normally only be used for weekends and occasional visits. Larz stayed the entire four months Emily was there. She had been home in Claymont for five weeks now, and from all accounts she was getting by, nothing more, nothing less. She was helping out at Mercy’s Shelter for Abused Women a couple of days a week. Apparently she found solace in helping the other women in the shelter. Her words were few and far between. The only person who she had confided in so far was Larz and surprisingly, Eli. Larz had called me with all the pride a father might experience when he caught Emily’s allusive smile two weeks ago. She had been with Annie’s boy, Eli. The seven-year-old, with his unfiltered mouth, had apparently managed to do the impossible—he had broken down one of Emily’s tallest and strongest walls. It seemed Em had a penchant for gaming and Eli was the perfect teacher. Not only was he teaching her to race cars and swing a magical sword, he was teaching her how to smile and have fun. Larz explained how Emily’s reluctance with skin contact wasn’t quite as bad as it had been, but it was still there. Her belief that her touch would ‘taint’ others with her sin had lessened, but being touched made her nervous in other ways now. While everyone tiptoed around her, hesitant to touch her or upset her, Eli was the opposite. There were no careful words or avoidance where he was concerned and I felt compelled to do the same. Emily didn’t need codling, she needed the reassurance that being touched didn’t have to equate to pain. The man inside of me that yearned for the buried sensual woman in Emily wanted to expose her to this touch, to show her passion and the beauty that could be found in the bedroom. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be the one to expose her to such touch, as much as I would have relished the challenge. Emily apparently knew how to hold a grudge. She was still spitting mad that I had left her. I thought she might eventually see the wisdom in my decision, but apparently the stubborn gene ran strong in the Donovan sisters. As much as I wanted to see Em, to touch her, I wouldn’t and that was of course for the best. While she was recovering, I was still a dominant asshole with a predilection for restraints and spanking. Emily was angry, and the thought of that little wild cat fuming mad made me a little happy. Anger I could deal with, a numb state of shock and desolation would have broken my heart. Her anger was good; she would need that strength to keep defeating the demons of her past.

  Dillon tossed me my keys when we got to the garage, and I smiled wickedly in the direction of my shiny, black Corvette.

  “Where’s the Chevy?” I asked.

  “Jaxon borrowed it. Ella banged up her Honda, again, and his car is being serviced. He had a job to quote on out of town.”

  “Why didn’t he take the Lexus?” I nodded towards the dark grey SUV.

  Dillon chuckled. “He wants to buy a muscle car and Ella said
he couldn’t until he got her a cat, so he’s hoping to woo her with my awesome Chevy.”

  “Why doesn’t he just buy her a cat?”

  “He’s allergic.”

  Huh, I thought. Couldn’t they compromise and buy a dog? The whole situation was full of complex and confusing couple’s law, known only to those who were a ‘couple’. Since I was a bachelor with no such ties, I dropped the entire last five minutes of conversation from my thoughts and started the Corvette. The thundering hum of the engine purred through my veins. I loved my car. I loved fast things and the Corvette was pretty fucking fast. Pulling out of the garage I drove slowly down the long concrete drive. As soon as the tires hit the asphalt, I gave the accelerator a gentle tap and the car leapt to life. That was all it took, just a slight press on the pedal and the Corvette Stingray was eating up miles. I slowed marginally for the corners and made my way out of the flashy estate. As soon as I hit the highway, I let my beauty fly. A discreet glance out the corner of my eye saw Dillon’s all too calm face. Not fast enough then. One hundred miles per hour and Dillon still looked composed. The forest on either side flew by in an unseen blur as I headed for town. This back road was the long route, but still only a twenty minute drive into town. At this rate we would easily cut that time in half.

  As the speedometer pushed closer to one hundred and fifty miles per hour, Dillon began to fidget nervously and I chuckled.

  “Asshole,” he murmured. As the city came into view I backed off and brought the car back to a responsible speed. Benny’s was on this side of town, only a handful of blocks from Mercy’s Shelter for Abused Women. I wondered if Emily was working today. Deciding I wasn’t quite ready to start probing Dillon for information on her, I shut down that train of thought and watched the streets with the same studious observation I unconsciously invested in my everyday life. It wasn’t as if I were expecting trouble, it was just better to be prepared. I learned a long time ago it took very little effort to take in your surroundings. It was more than just looking. It was looking and really seeing, taking a mental catalogue of everything. Simple things like watching the behavior and activities of the people around you. Taking note of things that didn’t belong, like expensive flashy cars in a blue collar small town, like a 2014 Corvette Stingray in Claymont, for example.

  A slow grin crept over my face. Claymont was not where I expected to end up, but I had quickly grown to like the place. Dillon and I had started our security firm in Atlanta, opening our second office here. We had since closed the Atlanta division and made Claymont our home base. We had a team of six now working for us, Gabbie, Bomber and Larz being part of that equation, as well as Drew King, Parker Evans and Samuel Rynehart. Drew and Parker were originally part of the five men loaned to us by Alexander to watch Rebecca, Charlie and their friends. My stepfather’s men had left as soon as my team and I were back in Claymont. All except Drew and Parker were gone. They had fulfilled their contracts with Alexander and decided it was time to move on. I was surprised that moving on meant taking positions with Montgomery Security in Claymont. Perhaps they saw the same peaceful qualities in the town that I did.

  Drew was a big bastard, almost as tall as Jaxon Carter, an easy six foot three. He was wide and muscular, his head was shaved, and he had an ugly scar slicing through one eye and cheek that gave him the appearance of a cold blooded killer. In reality, Drew was a cold blooded killer. He had quickly become one of Alexander’s preferred associates, working as a hired gun. If I didn’t know for a fact that Drew had a hard-core case of ‘knight-in-shining-armor’ complex, I would never have taken him on. Yes, he was a killer, but so was I. Like me, Drew excelled at his job, but it didn’t mean that he liked it. He spent more of his time taking in stray dogs, rescuing cats from trees, and helping those less fortunate than he did looking after himself. His heart was good, and that, combined with his knack for tracking and finding people, made him an asset for Montgomery Security. Parker was the opposite of Drew. Parker looked like your stereotypical jock, with movie star good looks, blue eyes and a smile that dropped women’s panties so easily even I had been impressed. Parker had not been an assassin, but he was one hell of a conman. He could sell sand in the middle of a desert and Alexander had used him to help with weapon distribution. There were also few locks in this world that would keep the man out, or in. Samuel, I had yet to meet. Dillon hired him a couple of months back as our official IT guru. Sam was a much sought after hacker, sick of childish internet pranks and games, and was looking for a respectable way to earn his living. He’d met Dillon at a security conference in New York, and once Dillon had seen the potential in having someone with Sam’s skill set, he offered him a tidy sum of money and a nice apartment over Montgomery Security, rent free for a year. He was currently living there with Jessica, his girlfriend of twelve months. Dillon had said she was, and I quote, “a hot piece of ass with a great rack.” Dillon also assured me that when I met the two of them, I would be just as confused as he was. They were apparently an odd combination. So that was our team. It was a good team, one I had every faith in, one I trusted.

  I parked the car directly out front of The Pit Stop, and we pushed our way into the virtually deserted diner.

  “Well if it isn’t Mr. July and Mr. November.”

  I cringed. The calendar had been Rebecca’s idea, a way to raise money for Mercy’s Shelter. There was never an opportunity to say no. Apparently Dillon had said yes for me while I was away. Everyone else had agreed to it, so I guess saying no would have made me about as popular as shit on the bottom of one’s shoe.

  “How the hell did you find out about the calendar?” Dillon said with a grin as we sat at the counter.

  Benny was huge; his large round stomach was contained behind a tight fitting apron that today read, “Big Daddy is on the Grill.” He looked like the Martha Stewart version of Grizzly Adams. Benny tapped his nose. “I’ll never betray my source.”

  “It was Ella.” I guessed, and Benny winked.

  “Damn women can’t keep their mouths closed,” Dillon mumbled from beside me.

  “Then you shouldn’t have agreed to do it. And you damn well shouldn’t have put my hand up to do it.”

  “It’s for a good cause, community spirit and all that.” Dillon waved his hands nonchalantly.

  His argument was poorly delivered, but I couldn’t argue. Mercy’s Shelter was good for the community. There were always women staying there, beaten, broken or just down on their luck. They needed somewhere safe to go to get back on their feet. If it hadn’t have been for Mercy’s Shelter, Ella Munroe and Annie Lonergan might have had a whole different future, one not so fortunate.

  All conversation disappeared as plates full of bacon, sausage, eggs and hash browns were placed before us. It was like eating a slice of heaven, dunked in grease and fried to a crisp.

  “Emily has tried to make contact with Jonas,” Dillon said after a short silence that was broken by the clattering of stainless steel cutlery on chipped ceramic plates. The bacon and egg that sat stabbed on my fork became frozen halfway to my mouth. “Larz took her to the library a few weeks ago. She wanted to use a computer there. We thought it was unusual because Rebecca and Charlie have a computer at home that she can use. Larz called me and I got Sam down there as soon as they left. She had gone into an email account that looked as though it had never been used. There were five contacts, three bogus, two legit.”

  I waited for Dillon to go on. When his silence aggravated me to the point of possible violence, I turned to face him. “Was contact made?” I demanded.

  Dillon shook his head. “She sent emails to all five contacts saying the same thing: I want to come home.”

  Carefully, I placed the fork down before I did something rash, like stab someone. “She’s been in therapy, four months of intensive fucking therapy! Why the fuck would she want to go back? I thought the doctors said she was doing well,” I growled through gritted teeth.

  “I highly doubt she wants to go back to pick up whe
re she left off, Braiden. From what Larz tells me Em is angry, beyond angry, she’s damned furious and she wants his blood. From what I understand, she is pretty damn pissed at you for leaving her, but she’s even more pissed at you for attempting to take what she feels is her justice.”

  I shook my head. “You think she’s going after Jonas on her own?” The thought rocked me, like I literally fucking swayed in my chair.

  “I’d bet my last dollar on it. Perhaps you need to speak to her, allow her a glimpse of what’s happening to find Jonas. It might placate her enough to let this go, and if not,” Dillon shrugged, “maybe she needs this.”

  I balked at his line of thought. Dillon was the last person in the world I would except to support the idea of an innocent girl committing murder. “You think she should be the one to kill Jonas?” I growled low.

  “No. You and I both know what it’s like to take a life. Regardless of how monstrous the victim is, it’s still a life. Emily shouldn’t have that burden on her hands. But maybe she needs to be there, see it end.”

  My stomach revolted at the thought of Em killing someone and was equally nauseated at the thought of her witnessing me kill Jonas. The man wasn’t going to die pretty, and Em didn’t need to see that; she didn’t need to see me like that. I couldn’t allow her to maintain this course she was on. She needed to concentrate on getting better. It would be a cold day in hell before I let Em within a hundred feet of Jonas Levier. She might hate me for it, but it was worth it to keep her safe.

  Chapter 13

  EMILY

  Eli sat beside me, his body leaning into the curves as his NASCAR car took the corner. I found it amusing how engrossed not only his mind would become in his Xbox games, but also his body. To say I was happy to join him in his gaming cloud was an understatement. Gaming let me escape from my thoughts. All of my concentration would be engrossed in the game and nothing else, and it was safe. Some things weren’t safe, like watching TV and movies. Something or someone that would cause me to slip into a flashback and sometimes it would be something so damn insignificant I couldn’t even comprehend why it bothered me. I tried reading, but again, some stories unwillingly took me too close to things that frightened me. I tried painting and drawing, but my lack of ability made the entire exercise nothing more than irritating. When I met Eli, he could barely drag his eyes away from the screen long enough to say hello. He asked me if I wanted to play, and I thought, what do I have to lose? Gaming took concentration and it allowed me a few hours of quiet contentment.