Me: Ambushed at the courthouse by Bryce Wakeford. Called in to Wells’s crew. Home in ten. Clear path to a guest suite.
Axel: She’s okay?
Me: Physically.
The weight of that simple text slams into me. I don’t know how that motherfucker was mixed up with Dalton or what his motive was, but I know it connects to me somehow. It can’t be a coincidence that he’s been trying to get me to approve his La Lune Noire membership for years.
I’m sure that’s not lost on Mercy. She’s probably ready to flee again.
Fuck.
She deserves to feel safe. To feel like her son is being raised in a place where he can run outside and be a little kid without worrying that someone will harm them because of me.
I have to fucking fix this. After I gut that asshole.
Maybe we can go away. I can’t imagine saddling Axel with all the La Lune Noire shit to handle on top of his KORT duties. He wouldn’t even care about that. He’d understand, but it would kill him to lose us. It would kill me. To miss Rena becoming a mom. To miss out on things with Maddox, Cash, and Jax.
They’d all get it though. My mother was the brightest spirit and died because she was entwined with this world. We know all too well that the innocent burn along with the evil in this life.
Ashes and lies.
So, if that’s what it takes to keep her safe, to keep her from retreating into that dark place she goes, that’s what I’ll do.
“You’re okay now, Merce.” My lips press against her temple as I rub her back. “Christ, I love you so much. I was so fucking scared. We’re almost home.”
She sags against me in what I imagine is relief at the sound of that. And three minutes later, Seth drops us off in our private garage, where two of my brothers and a slew of our guards are waiting.
“We’re taking you up this way.” Axel guides us to the service elevator, which we use whenever we have something large delivered to the penthouse or one of our North Towerrooms. “The shower in the junior suite is set up. Cash delivered some clothes and essentials for each of you. Jax is with Remy. Whatever she needs, we’ll make it happen.”
“And I’ll be escorting,” Maddox adds, stepping into the elevator with us. His wintry eyes land on Mercy, who is trembling, and they might as well be icicles. “When our guest shows up too.”
“That goes for all of us.” Axel taps the button to shut us inside, his features both distressed and vengeful.
We’re stronger together.
When we arrive at the junior suite, Maddox takes Mercy’s bag. They have everything set up for efficient disposal of our clothing.
He glances at my pistol, tucked into my waistband. “Did you use that?”
“Yeah.”
“Axel told me to destroy it. We’ll get you another one.”
That’s irritating but wise, so I hand it over. Once I carry Mercy into the bathroom, I strip us both down, drop our clothing into a garbage bag, and pass it out to him.
“I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes,” he says through the crack in the door.
Mercy is coming around, with the chill of the air-conditioning against her bare skin. Those big brown doe eyes find mine, a perplexing blend of fear and strength swirling in them.
She looked so small in my arms, so fragile in that alley and on the way home. It didn’t matter that her skin wasn’t stained with bruises. It felt like we were on that floor again.
But now, my girl is ready to fight. Like she did in the alley. I’m just not sure if she’ll choose to fight for us this time or only her and Remy.
I flip the shower nozzle to hot and lift her chin. “What’s going on in that head? Talk to me.”
“I want to tell you what happened,” she begins, and while the water runs, she spews the entire story, every detail of Bryce’s Bond-villain confession before steam fills the bathroom, concluding with, “He’s been pulling our strings for years.”
My stomach bottoms out. I’m not sure if she gets it, but I know how men like this work—to a degree. Bryce is particularly demented. I’m not unfamiliar with game playing though. Mercy doesn’t see it yet. But his ultimate goal wasn’t making her choose between letting him get away with what he did or keeping her career.
