by Lane Hart
When Mercy starts getting creepy letters from a psycho, one who has also been breaking into her house, Abe refuses to just walk away. He won’t let her down the way he let down his brother when he needed him most.
Abe knows he's the perfect man to provide Mercy with protection. But who will protect Abe's heart when he starts to fall for the woman he knows he could never deserve?
Chapter One
Mercy Daniels
The real world sucks.
As soon as I step through the doors of the pier restaurant, I feel dozens of eyes on me and have to fight the urge to turn around and run. The lunch crowd is looking at me with sympathy; because even a year later, I’m still just Mercy, the aptly named, pathetic woman who had her heart snapped in half on a reality television show.
Okay, maybe I’m just imagining the pitiful stares, and pathetic is simply how I still see myself every time I look in the mirror. After traveling the world for an entire year with my overbearing, Bible-thumping mother to avoid standing still long enough for the paparazzi to take a photo, I thought I would be over the pain and humiliation.
Guess not.
“Mercy!”
The sound of my former college roommate’s comforting voice grounds me, pulling me out of my self-conscious thoughts. I’ve missed Sasha and could really use a friend right now. Lifting my big sunglasses that I use as a shield to keep my emotions from pouring out of my eyes, I finally spot my tall, blonde friend when she stands up and waves. Not only does she grab my attention, but everyone else in the restaurant as well. Sasha is a beautiful woman who simply radiates warmth, so all eyes are definitely on us now.
I hurry over to the table she’s claimed for us and give her a hug.
“Hey, girl!” Sasha says as we embrace. “It’s been too long, as in an entire calendar year! I’ve missed you!”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I missed you too,” I tell her as I take a seat across from her. Removing my sunglasses from the top of my head, I slip them into my purse and then hang it on the back of my chair.
“I’ve been worried about you,” she says softly.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I reply with a wave of my hand. “And I didn’t mean to drop off the map from everyone, but it seemed like the only way to escape the drama was to keep moving,” I explain. “After the first few weeks, I think I was scared to call and have someone bring him up and make my heart break all over again when I was trying so hard to get over him.”
“No, I totally understand,” Sasha assures me, reaching across the table to give my hand a squeeze. “And I won’t ask you about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. But I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” I tell her with a small smile.
“You look great, by the way,” she says.
“Thanks, you too! Running has become my new best friend,” I admit. “The only time I could really get away from my mother while we traveled.”
“I noticed you’ve been making some headlines too,” Sasha responds. “Is it true? Are you going to be the new leading lady on Queen of Hearts this season?”
“I am,” I answer with a nod.
“Congrats?” Sasha asks with a wince as if she’s not sure if it’s a good thing or not.
“Yeah, I mean it’s a great opportunity to try and meet Mr. Right and move on from Mr. Wrong,” I say, trying to convince myself that’s true as I open the restaurant’s plastic menu and lower my eyes to study it.
“Are you sure you’re ready to date again?” Sasha asks, her voice lowered in concern.
“Yes, of course,” I tell her, looking over the menu with a smile. “It’s been over a year. Besides, what woman wouldn’t want to be the object of twenty incredibly hot men’s attention?”
“One who is still in love with someone else who cheated on her and ran his mouth about her to the world,” she whispers to herself as she pretends to look at her own menu.
Closing mine, since I always have the grilled chicken salad, I rest my forearms on top of it to reply to her comment. “It was a show. Did I think Blake was going to pick me at the finale? Absolutely. But he didn’t. And while my ego took a huge hit after the show aired, seeing him on camera with all those other women and talking about how bad I am in bed, it has now healed. My heart too.”
“If you say so,” Sasha replies with a shrug of her shoulders, pretending she’s buying my explanation and letting it go. After all, that’s what best friends are for.
“So, tell me what you’ve been up to,” I say to effectively change the topic.
“Well,” Sasha starts, then tosses her menu down so that she can hold out her left hand to show off her ring. “I’m engaged!”
“Holy shit,” I mutter when I grasp her hand to bring it closer while examining the massive diamond. “That’s a beautiful ring. Who is the lucky groom-to-be?” I ask, excited that my friend has at least found a keeper. In my heart, I thought that Blake was going to put a ring on my finger when instead he said I wasn’t the one for him.
“You remember me telling you about Chase Fury, my high school sweetheart?” Sasha asks.
“Of course,” I remark. How could I forget the name of the jerk she used to cry over at various times through our four years of college after he abandoned her when he wrecked his bike?
“Well, it turns out that he was there for me after our accident, for days, in fact; and my parents told him that I didn’t want to see him and that I blamed him for everything,” she says. “They intentionally split us up! And because I was too stubborn to talk to him, we didn’t find all that out until a few weeks ago.”
“Wow,” I reply in surprise. “So, how did you get back together?”
“It’s a long story, but I reported on an accident where he was the man police were looking for,” she says. A waiter appears beside our table to get our orders before I can ask a follow up.
As soon as we’re alone again, I say, “Go back. The man’s a criminal?”
“Ah, sort of,” Sasha replies with a wrinkle of her nose. “Like I said, it’s a long story, but the best part is that we’re back together. And to be completely honest with you, you should know that he’s the acting president of the Savage Kings MC right now. So, associating with me could not only be bad PR for you but also…dangerous.”
“Ha!” I laugh since there’s no way I’m staying away from my best friend I haven’t seen in a year because her bad boy biker fiancé could be trouble. “Bring it on!” I tell her. “It would actually be great to have the paparazzi report something about me that doesn’t have to do with…well, you know.”
Everyone always thinks that those reality shows are staged and scripted, but the truth is, I fell hard for Blake, the bachelor from last season’s show King of Hearts. Sure, I knew that I would be competing with nineteen other women when I signed a contract. As a struggling model-slash-small time actress, I needed the money and thought it would be great for publicity. And I was right. Now I’m known as the woman who told a man she loved him after he professed his love. A few days later, I then proceeded to push him into a pool when he picked another woman at the final rose ceremony. That’s right, every second of my jealous fit is out there for the world to see. And although the cameras left before we got naked, everyone also knows that Blake and I had been sleeping together for three weeks prior to him choosing Felicia, a woman he barely spent any time with other than in bed. At the recent reunion show, tempers flared and insults ensued, including an accusation that I was colder than an Alaskan trout in the sack. Blake declared that he realized before the ceremony that I was faking everything I said and did with him to try and keep myself on the show for my failing career.
Asshole.
The only thing fake between us were my orgasms that he failed to ever give me because he was a selfish prick. Which I could have overlooked if he had loved me.
Let’s just say that on top of the pile of trust issues my absentee father created, Blake caused me to develop a few new ones. There’s
a reason I haven’t been on a date with anyone in over a year, and that reason’s name is Blake fucking Burton. Because of him, I can't stop thinking what if he’s right and I am solely responsible for having never experienced good sex?
“Seriously, Mercy. There have been some attacks on the club, and the guys are on the rampage after Chase’s sister-in-law was killed by one of their enemies,” Sasha tells me, pulling me back into our conversation. “If you want to steer clear of me, I’ll understand.”
“That’s awful,” I reply. “And while I hate that happened, I don’t think our friendship will be hazardous to my health.”
“I hope not,” Sasha says. “I would feel terrible if something happened to you because of my association with Chase and the MC, but I’m glad that you think I’m worth it.”
“Definitely,” I agree, right before several bright flashes of light go off right outside the window next to our table.
I don’t even have to look out on the deck to know what’s going on, but Sasha does.
“Jesus!” she mutters when her jaw falls open and she looks back at me.
“So, there are a few hazards of being friends with me right now too,” I warn her. “Like the fact that you’re probably going to end up in the tabloids as my lesbian lover or something equally absurd.”
Sasha gives a big burst of laughter at that. “I can see it now, once they do a little digging and find out we were roommates in college. The headlines will probably be that we’ve been secret lesbian lovers for years and today we finally outed ourselves.” When she starts giggling again, I can’t help but join in.
“Thanks for having a sense of humor about this,” I tell her. “They have been all up in my ass worse than an epic wedgie since I got back into town a few days ago. I hope it doesn’t cause you any problems with the news station.”
“Oh, please,” she says with a wave of her hand. “I figured they would fire me as soon as I went public with Chase, but they’ve actually been kissing my ass instead, like they’re scared I’ll sic the MC on them if they try to let me go.”
“That’s great,” I tell her.
“It is. I have my pick of stories, more vacation time. It’s crazy, but I’m glad I didn’t have to give up my career to be with Chase.”
“Yeah, it’s awesome you get to have both,” I agree with a smile.
“Are you gonna be in town for a while? If you are, I really want you to meet him,” Sasha says.
“Absolutely,” I reply. “We start filming later this week in Wilmington. It’ll take weeks to get a season worth of bad dates and all filmed, so I’ll be around.”
“Bad dates?” Sasha repeats with a bark of laughter. “Try not to sound so hopeful!”
“You know what I mean,” I say with a roll of my green eyes. “The guys may all be hot, but some will be jackasses. I just have to focus on weeding those men out, which will take time. And in the meantime, I’m going to try to avoid the paparazzi as much as I can.”
“How exactly do you plan to get out of here with that growing horde outside?” she asks, tipping the side of her head toward the window. I don’t turn to acknowledge the cameras. I’m trying my best to avoid letting them get any straight-on shots of my face looking like a deer in headlights.
Glancing around the restaurant that’s also filled with gawkers now, I grin and say, “Maybe someone can find me a broom to beat them back with.”
“I have a better idea,” Sasha says with her own mischievous grin. I can’t even guess what she might be cooking up. The girl is as sweet as honey, but can occasionally be trouble with a capital T. “If you don’t mind the MC association, I could call in a few bikers to provide you with some backup.”
“Bikers?” I repeat before my eyes narrow at her. “Wait. You’re not trying to set me up, are you? I’m getting ready to start a dating show!”
“Of course I’m not setting you up. None of Chase’s friends even come close to being your type,” she replies.
“Right,” I agree, since I could never imagine myself dating a biker or my mother ever approving of one.
Chapter Two
Abram Cross
This dude has lost his fucking mind.
That’s my first thought when Chase and I show up at Torin’s house to check on him. And while I can’t imagine what it would be like to have to walk a mile in his boots, I have zero fucking doubts that he’s experiencing more pain than any human being ever should endure in a lifetime.
A few weeks ago, motherfucking Hector Cruz, Cartel drug kingpin, had someone take out Torin’s pregnant old lady in a drive-by. The entire club is still reeling from the attack on our president. Or our former president, I guess I should say, since he removed his flash from his cut and stepped down.
Now, though, he’s set up camp right next to his beach front mansion…in a fox hole. No shit, it’s like he’s reenacting a war movie. The man hasn’t seen a bar of soap in several days, possibly longer, not to mention a razor or a comb for his dirty-blond hair that’s a mess, falling below his ears and giving new meaning to dirty.
It’s just one more reason why I never plan to settle down with a woman. Not that any females would ever want to hitch themselves to me – a convicted felon and outlaw biker – other than the low-class club sluts. They’re bottom feeders looking to move up in the world even if it means getting on their knees for me every night. And it’s no secret that the MC is making bank. The amount of money in my account is a dream come true compared to how I grew up saving pennies or stealing to pay for one meal a day for my mom, my brother and myself.
“Come on, Torin,” Chase starts, trying to rationalize with his older brother from where he and I are physically looking down into the depths of his despair. Actually, the more I think about it, instead of a fox hole, it’s like the man has gone and dug his own grave to prepare for his imminent death, ready to meet back up with his old lady in the afterlife. “Why don’t you go inside and get a shower? Or come back to the clubhouse with us?”
“No,” Torin mutters from his seated position, back to the sandy wall. “I’m fine here.”
“You’re not fucking fine!” Chase yells before he places his hands on his hips to take a deep breath, trying to calm down. As his MC brother, I understand his frustration. Hell, I even understand the pressure Chase has on his shoulders, wanting to literally pull Torin out of the hole he’s dug himself into. My brother Gabriel is three years younger than me; and when I lost him to the foster system those few years after our mom died, I felt like a failure. When I was finally able to track him down again, I thought it would be smart to steal a classic Jaguar to sell to pay for his college tuition. Then I got busted and tossed in prison, leaving Gabe once again to fend for himself. I’m a shitty brother. And based on the distance between us despite our close proximity, I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for letting him down.
“There has to be something more that you could be doing than wasting away out here in the heat,” Chase says calmly, trying to reason with his brother. “What do you need?”
“Have you found out where Hector or his slutty ass daughter are?” Torin murmurs. “Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he answers his own question before Chase can respond.
“We’re trying,” Chase assures him. “Reece is digging in and monitoring everything possible that he can on the internet. We’ll find them.”
Straight up, that murdering asshole Cruz must be hiding in a hole like Torin’s. There hasn’t been a single blip about him out in the world since he closed up shop in Wilmington and disappeared after attacking our clubhouse and killing two good men from our Charlotte charter.
“We can try to round up some Aces again to question them,” Chase offers to Torin, trying to throw the devastated man a bone.
“I want to burn the entire Ace of Spades MC to the fucking ground,” Torin declares while he pulls out his big ass army knife from his cargo pocket to start cutting an apple.
Chase and I exchange a look, then I give a shrug in res
ponse to his silent question as if to say, why the hell not.
“Okay, let’s do it,” Chase tells him. “Let’s burn that fucking Aces’ bar right outside of Wilmington down. We’ll go tonight.”
“Fuck yeah,” I exclaim, trying to be the messed-up arson cheerleader my boy needs.
“Fine,” Torin eventually agrees with a sigh.
“Great. Get a shower and you can come too,” Chase declares. When Torin opens his mouth to protest, Chase cuts him off. “I can fucking smell you from here, man. If you don’t shower, you’re not coming with us.”
A huff of annoyance is Torin’s response, but Chase seems to take it as acceptance.
“Be at the clubhouse at eleven tonight,” Chase orders Torin before he walks away. I give my former president a nod, before I turn and follow. The whole exchange was too damn bizarre for me. Over the past six years since I became a prospect, Torin’s been the one in charge giving people directives. Seeing him this way twists my guts up in knots.
“Are you gonna tell him about the possible rat in our midst?” I ask Chase softly as we head for our bikes.
“Not yet,” Chase answers on a sigh. “He’ll lose it if we tell him one of our own betrayed him. First we need to find proof before he goes apeshit and starts pointing fingers.”
“Yeah,” I agree, unable to figure out how the hell to determine which of our brothers is untrustworthy.
Growing up poor made me hard. Prison made me even harder. Chase was the only person in there with me who I knew wouldn’t stab me with a shiv while I was sleeping. I’ve always had a hard time trusting people; but even so, I’ve gone through the list of our MC brothers over and over again and can’t pick out a single one who wouldn’t die for me. Maybe Chase is wrong, and Hector just got lucky when he hit us both times. But that doesn’t really make sense either …