No Mercy: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by D. M. Davis

  A new stream of tears starts to fall. “I forgive you, Gabriel.”

  “Thank you,” he kisses across my lips. “Thank you.” His reverence is overwhelmingly welcomed. His hold on me tightens.

  I suppress a groan as my body protests. Being in his arms again is worth the pain.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  Gabriel pulls back enough to see the nurse at the end of my bed.

  “Hi,” she says to me. “I’m Dawn. Your nurse.”

  “Hi, Dawn. I’m Frankie.”

  She smiles. “It’s good to see you awake. I need to check your vitals, and Dr. Ryals will be here in a moment to talk to you.” Her eyes dart to Gabriel. “Privately.”

  Reluctantly, Gabriel releases me, standing to his full height, and grips my hand with a squeeze. “I’ll be outside.”

  Once again, I’m shocked into silence. I see his mouth moving. I hear his words, but it can’t be true.

  “Could you repeat that?”

  Dr. Ryals takes the seat closest to my bed and kindly takes my hand. “I can tell this is a shock.” He places his other hand on top and pats. “You’re pregnant, Frankie. About six weeks as best we can tell without knowing when your last period was.”

  “I can’t be.” I’m not even sure I said it loud enough for him to hear.

  “You are, quite assuredly.” He glances at the door and then back to me. “I assume the big guy outside with the permanent scowl is the father.”

  Shit. Gabriel.

  I nod. Panic rising. He doesn’t want kids. He doesn’t want to marry—have a family. He’s happy with status quo. A fuck buddy.

  Dr. Ryals hands me a tissue. “Don’t cry. It’ll be okay. Give yourself time for the news to settle. You don’t have to tell him now if you’re not ready. Your care is strictly confidential. No one besides the hospital staff have to know. Beyond that, it’s your discretion.”

  My head bobs, bobblehead mode in full effect. I can’t tell him now. I need time to process. To figure out what he really wants, what he’s willing to give. If I tell him I’m pregnant, and he wants to get back together, I’ll always doubt his feelings for me. Plus, I’d never trap him into a relationship. I just… Need a minute to process…

  “Have you been having any symptoms? Nausea, light-headedness, fatigue, smells or food turning you off?”

  “I’ve thrown up and been dizzy.” Oh God, I drank! “Um, I’ve had some alcohol. I don’t drink often, but it’s been a stressful week. Could I have harmed the baby?”

  “You don’t usually drink?”

  “No, but this past week I probably drank three days, maybe. I thought throwing up and being dizzy was because my body wasn’t used to it.”

  His smile is genuine. “More than likely it was the pregnancy and not the drinking. I’m sure the baby is fine. But”—he arches a brow—“no more alcohol. Okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “The baby looks good, by the way. You’re in great shape. You’ll bounce back quickly. Be patient with the ribs. They’ll take the longest to heal.” He goes on to tell me he’ll start me on a prenatal vitamin, and I’ll need to see an obstetrician as soon as I get home.

  Home? And where is that, exactly?

  I pace the hall. Cap and Rowdy keep eyeing me like I’m a ticking timebomb. I feel like I am. I know she’s fine in there with the doctor. I just need to see her to confirm for myself. I only had a few minutes with her after she woke up. I’m guessing Rowdy alerted the nurse to her wakened status. It’s good they came to check on her, but I would have liked a few more minutes with her, comforting her, feeling her forgiveness wash over me like a blessing.

  I may not be guilty of cheating, but I’m guilty of so much when it comes to my Angel. Things I may never be able to come back from.

  My father was a piece of shit, and what I gathered from Austin over the years, hers wasn’t much better. I can still hear my old man’s voice in my head telling me what a loser I was, and I’d never amount to a sack of shit—the world would be better off without me. If it wasn’t for my mom and sister, I might have believed that last part, but I know for a fact their lives are better because of me.

  I put food on the table. Not him.

  I kept the roof over our heads. Not him.

  I made sure they were safe. Not him.

  The only thing he did was beat me and my mom and look at my sister in a way a father never should. By the time I was fifteen, I was bigger and meaner than him. I’d been fighting for years on the streets, making enough money to get by. I was the underdog, the surprise they never saw coming. A no-good kid with a bum for a dad.

  But I showed them each and every time. I showed them all.

  I kicked his ass out and never looked back.

  It if wasn’t for special dispensation to get me in the army at seventeen, who knows where I’d be now. Probably still fighting on the streets, except not for Cap, but for some greedy mob boss who would take most of my earnings and shoot me like a lame horse the second I showed any signs of weakness or injury.

  The army saved my life, gave me a livelihood to fall back on—a marketable skill that didn’t include fighting or killing people. Cap gave me a chance at a real career as a fighter, not a street fighter, but a legitimate MMA fighter with real skills and discipline.

  It was tough going. I had more bad habits than good ones. More anger than skill. More emotional baggage than a bus could carry, but he and coach were patient. They saw something in me. Something I couldn’t see. They were my honing rod, removing the rough edges and sharpening me to knife-edge precision.

  They made me the fighter I am today and gave me a family where I belong. Where I’m only told I’m an asshole when I act like one—which is often. The beatings only happen in the ring. The smack talk, all good-natured. I’m admired and looked up to instead of spit on and told I’m a waste of breath.

  Cap gave me purpose.

  Frankie gave me life.

  What do I have to offer her that could possibly compare to what she’s already given me?

  The door to her room opens and out steps the doctor, his eyes landing on me instantly, something unwritten on his face. “Gabriel, is it?” He offers his hand.

  I shake it. “Yes, sir. Gabriel Stone.”

  His eyes widen in recognition as he continues to shake my hand. “The fighter?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you. My sons and I watch you fight at every opportunity. I hear you have a big matching coming up soon.”

  “Yeah, in about eight weeks.” I don’t even let myself go to the place where I know I’ve blown off training for the last four days for my girl.

  “We look forward to it.” He nearly blushes when he realizes he hasn’t let go of my hand. Releasing me, he motions to the door. “She’d like to see you.”

  Reeling from the news, I try to blink away my tears and focus through my foggy brain that has me only wanting to close my eyes and go back to sleep. Though, I doubt it would be a peaceful rest with this weight on my chest.

  He doesn’t want children.

  Dread beats down any hope I had before the nurse interrupted us earlier. I’d forgotten why I’d moved out in the first place. Why I’d spent the night at the gym instead of meeting Cap the morning of our trip.

  When I woke up, I was so overcome with joy at the sight of Gabriel, I’d forgotten myself. But reality is a bitch. She doesn’t like to be ignored. She wants her due, which apparently is my relationship with Gabriel, as messy as it is.

  Gabriel “No Mercy” Stone held me until my broken pieces healed. He protected me. Worshipped my body. Made me feel like a goddess.

  He didn’t want my heart. I gave it to him anyway.

  He made no promises. No declarations of love or a future.

  He gave me his body, then gave me a baby.

  But he still won’t give me his heart.

  Once, only being with someone I loved was enough. Now, I know I deserve more. I deserve s
omeone willing to be as all in as I am. I deserve to be loved and cherished openly and honestly—outside the bedroom as well.

  Gabriel’s heart isn’t open to me, or, if it is, he’s keeping it captive. I know he cares, but it’s not enough if he can’t give me his all.

  I have to set him free.

  I’ll put myself out there one last time before I walk away from the man I just might love forever.

  No Mercy for me.

  “Hey.” His deep voice draws my attention as he nears my bed.

  I want to sit up, but the ache in my side tells me it would be a mistake. Three broken ribs. Maybe their pain will override the agony of breaking my own heart.

  We’ll see.

  “Hey.” A weak start to a devastating conversation I’d rather avoid.

  He studies me from head to toe and back. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. No. I mean…”

  He sits on the edge of the bed, barely enough room for my hulking Big Man. “Take a breath. Tell me what’s got you all teary-eyed and nervous.”

  I take as deep a breath as my ribs will allow and let it fly. “I’d forgotten. Seeing you made me so happy, I’d forgotten—”

  “What’d you forget?”

  “—we were broken up.”

  He scowls. “We didn’t break up.”

  “Maybe broken up is too formal since we really weren’t anything more than… lovers.”

  “What the fuck, Frankie? We had a fight. That’s all.”

  I shake my head. “No. It was more. I’d moved out. We were done. Even if you had been with that woman, it really wouldn’t have been cheating because I left you days before.”

  “We weren’t fucking done.” Steam nearly rises from his ears. “We’ll never be done.”

  “But we are. Don’t you see? It’s inevitable. Why string it out, make it more painful than it has to be?”

  “Why are you doing this?” He looks around the room, motions to my body. “Why now, when you need me? You’re still in the fucking hospital. On painkillers. You shouldn’t be making rash decisions.”

  “No. It’s not rash. I’d already made the decision the night before my trip.” I grip his hand. “Gabriel, my fall doesn’t wipe away what happened before I left. I’m a little freaked out from the accident and maybe you are too, but nothing has changed.”

  “It has.”

  “Really? What am I to you? What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to come home. Let me take care of you.”

  “But why?”

  “What do you mean why?” He stands and paces before the end of the bed, tugging at his hair. “Because I want to!”

  “I want to get married and have babies. Can you say the same?”

  “Don’t do this, Angel.” Agitation flickers all around him like flames.

  An image of Gabriel flashes before my eyes, not the one before me now but the one on his back tattoo. The avenging angel, wings spread, sword and shield at the ready as flames lick at his feet. Agony contorting his face as the angry flames grow higher, consuming him slowly, painfully.

  I flinch from the sight of it, sorrow taking my breath, tears taking my sight.

  He’s at my side before I can catch my breath. “Are you in pain? Here—” He pushes the button to release more pain meds. “We shouldn’t be doing this now. You just woke up after being unconscious for two days.”

  “Are you going to want children next week? Next month? Next year?”

  “Don’t.” He draws back like I landed a fatal blow. I suppose I have.

  “Loyal. Brave. True.” I finger his tattoo under the sleeve of his t-shirt. “You are all those things, Gabriel. Except when it comes to your heart, you keep it closed off, sheltered, unavailable.” I swipe my tears away. “I wasted nine years of my life on Austin, believing we had a future, a shared future he wanted as well. I can’t do that again. I won’t do that again.”

  “Please.” Gabriel’s pleading eyes watering nearly do me in. I’ve never seen Gabriel cry. Such a strong beast of a man brought to his knees by his inability to love me.

  “I know you’re capable of love. I’ve seen the love you have for your mom and sister. It’s inside you. I know you care about me. I feel it. You’re too afraid to let it out. Tell me there’s a chance, and I’ll wait. I’ll try.”

  He shakes his head and stands, turning away from me, tucking his emotions back in place behind his armored heart and hard façade. “I can’t give you what I don’t have.” The coolness in his tone matches that of his heart.

  “Truth,” I quote his tattoo under my breath. “Then this is goodbye.”

  Brave is what I am as I watch him walk out the door without so much as looking back.

  There’s no need to look when there’s no one there you care about.

  Then this is goodbye. Her voice haunts me as anger has me shaking with the need to smash something—hit someone. Hard.

  Walking out her door was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. What could I say? I wouldn’t lie to her. She deserves better than that. She asked for truth. I gave her my truth, and she didn’t want it.

  No, she wanted more.

  Fuck!

  I can’t do more. I don’t know how to do more. I’m pretty fucking sure there is no more in me to give.

  Kids?

  Fuck.

  No, I don’t want ‘em. But they sure as shit don’t want me either. I’d be a shit-tastic father and probably an even worse husband.

  I’m a fighter. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at. It’s what I know.

  Then fight for her.

  Shut the fuck up. My inner voice needs to get a life and leave me alone.

  The door bangs against the wall when I slam through the waiting room door. Cap jumps to his feet and stalks to me. “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head and press my lips together, blowing steam out my nose as I fight for control. “She broke up with me.”

  “She… Wow.” He’s as shocked as I am.

  “I’m moving back to Vegas.” I spot Rowdy coming in from outside. “You and he will have to look out for her. Promise me she’ll be safe.”

  Cap clutches my arm, shaking off Rowdy, silently telling him to stay back. “Always. She was mine before she was yours.”

  “No, Cap.” My throat tightens, and my chest seizes. “She’s always been mine. Always will be.”

  The shake of his head and his deep sigh reflects his disappointment. “I still have hope for you two.”

  “Don’t. I can’t give her what she needs.” Or what she wants.

  “And what’s that?”

  “A heart.” Love. Children. Marriage.

  I leave him with his promise to get her home safely—to my house. I have no plans on selling it or living in it again without her. She made those walls a home and my bed a haven. Besides, I’m packing up and moving back to Vegas. I won’t be there.

  I’ll be here, in sin city.

  Where the rich get richer. The poor get poorer.

  And the broken find sanctuary in the lecherous darkness where my Angel can never dwell.

  I’ve always known she was meant for heaven, and I was destined for hell. I just didn’t realize I’d have to walk through fire with every step I take away from her. The heat—melting my flesh, thick air—taking my breath, cloudy vision—bringing tears to my eyes, and the pain of that broken organ in my chest as it stills—only ever beating for her.

  I saw a glimpse of forever in the eyes of my Angel.

  I felt the darkness lift.

  My own personal hell turned heavenly when she was in my arms.

  But today, the gates of hell opened up to welcome me back.

  There’s no room for a devil in her dreams of a family.

  No compromise.

  No living in the now.

  No living with what I have to offer.

  She’s got no mercy for a broken asshole like me.

  Hell dwells between the walls of Gabriel’s home. Yet I c
an’t bear the idea of leaving. I love his house. I loved it more with him here. I ache when I walk through his bedroom to use his bathroom so I don’t have to share the guest bath with Rowdy. I’m staying in my old room, Rowdy, in the room across the hall. I can’t bring myself to sleep in Gabriel’s room—his bed—without him. Maybe a part of me hopes he’ll come to his senses and fight for us. Fight for me.

  No one’s ever done that. Not my father. Not Austin. And now, not even Gabriel. It seems I’m not worth fighting for.

  Except I am.

  I am fighting for me. I’m fighting my every instinct to run to wherever Gabriel is and make him see he is capable of loving me. If he’d only give us a chance, stop believing the negative crap in his head. I know he had a tough childhood. His dad was an ass, and though Gabriel may have learned how to be an ass from his father, he’s not him. Gabriel would never beat me or his children. He’s afraid. My Big Man with the strength to pin a heavyweight fighter to the mat time and time again, who’s undefeated, is afraid he’s not strong enough to overcome his past.

  I fear it too—for myself. I know nothing of being a mother, but it looks like I’m going to be one nonetheless. Not necessarily sooner than I thought, but definitely not the way I pictured it. I never thought I’d be a single mom. I envisioned having children with Austin, loads of them.

  I wasn’t with Gabriel long enough to dare dream of having his children. I shied away from such thoughts, knowing how he felt about kids. He doesn’t hate them. He’s great with Gwen, Emmy and Grant’s daughter. He lights up when she smooshes his face between her hands and plants a big kiss on his lips. He’s like putty in her hands. A big tub of goo, there to do her bidding. And he loves every second of it.

  But having his own children is a different story. I understand. I don’t blame him. I don’t hate him. I’m not even mad at him. I’m just sad. Sad that a future with me isn’t worth fighting for—whatever that looks like.

  I need a man who’ll put me first, ahead of his insecurities. His fears. A man who will fight for me. Gabriel may be letting me live in his home. But it’s not enough. I know I can’t stay here forever, but for the immediate future, I’ll take advantage of his generosity. I’ll relish every moment and remember a time when he was here with me—sharing his space but not his heart.