Well, I’m pretty sure he did have jobs as a teenager. He always had money. Not a lot, but he bought that dirt bike with his own money, I do remember him saying that. So he did work. I just… never askedwhere, I guess. Then, as adults, I just assumed it was something… illegal. Something to do with the club.
"I dunno where he works," Mercy shrugs. "The Club, I think. He leaves early. Comes back late. It pays the bills."
Pays the bills. It's a phrase straight out of his mouth, not Mercy's. She's just repeating him.
I perch on the edge of an armchair, keeping my posture straight like Mama taught me. My diamond catches the light, throwing prisms across the wall. I notice Mercy staring at it, then quickly looking away.
I've been here plenty of times over the past three years. To help Destiny. Then Mercy, once Destiny left. To drop off food, or pick up laundry and bring it back, once cleaned.
But all those times—every single one of those times—Legion was in prison.
I have never beeninside his space.
And now here I am. And I don’t know how to process it, so the manners kick in. "The place is really nice, Mercy," I say, when I realize she's looking at me, waiting for…words.
"I know!" She bounces up, energy crackling through her small frame. "When school starts again in the fall, I’m gonna go to school every day. No more skippin’. I will have new clothesand the new supplies. Kids won’t make fun of me no more. And I’ll bring my own lunch too!” She pauses her excitement here to give me a serious look. “We have real food in the fridge, not just beans and soda."
"Beans and soda," I say softly. Yep. That was all that was in there the first time I brought food.
"Wanna see something cool?" Without waiting for an answer, Mercy darts down the hallway and returns with a brand new backpack—purple with silver stars. "All my school stuff is new. And look—" She pulls out a lunch box with horses on it. "Legion says I need to eat actual food, not just whatever kids give me."
"It's super cute," I tell her. "I love it."
"Oh! And I have all kinds of new friends at the Club."
"New...friends?"
"Oh, you haven't met them yet!" Mercy's eyes light up. "They're super nice. Brick looks really scary—he's got this face like thunder—but he gave me this cool knife block for the kitchen." She points to a wooden block on the counter filled with gleaming kitchen knives. "And he always brings me candy, but he checks with Legion first 'cause sometimes I lie and say I already brushed my teeth."
She says this so casually, like it's perfectly normal to have a biker gang as your BFF. I force a smile. "That's... thoughtful."
"His bike is the coolest thing ever. It's got these skulls on the handlebars that light up red at night. He let me sit on it once when Legion wasn't lookin’."
“Ummm… OK.”
"Roach is super twitchy, like this—" Mercy demonstrates by wiggling her fingers rapidly and blinking fast. "But he's super smart too. He taught me chess! Says I have a 'tactical mind,' whatever that means."
She hops up and moves to the window, demonstrating. "He showed me how to check if someone messed with our locks orwindows. See these little bits of tape? If they're broken, someone came in while we were gone."
I feel sick. "That's... an interesting skill."
"He has like ten different phones, but never takes pictures. I asked why once and he said 'plausible deniability' which sounds made up." She laughs these words out, moving to the kitchen to get a juice box from the fridge.
"Ledger wears glasses like my teacher, but way scarier. He brought me these math workbooks 'cause I'm behind in school." She takes a long sip. "He taught me to count money the right way. Says I need to know if someone's shortin’ me. I don't know what that means, but I can count really fast now. Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, one hundred. Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, two hundred. That’s how you do it."
I try to keep my expression neutral. "Math is important."
"Diesel is my favorite though. He's HUGE!" She spreads her arms wide. "Like a bear! But he's super nice. Taught me how to shoot better—says my aim was good but my stance was garbage."
"He taught you to…shoot?" My voice rises despite my effort to keep calm.
"Yeah! At the range behind the clubhouse. I'm really good now." She says this with such innocent pride. "He checks on me when Legion works late. Brings me ice cream sometimes."
Again with this 'job' thing. I can't help asking. "What does Legion do again? For work?"
Mercy scrunches her face. "I told you, I dunno. Club stuff? He comes home smelling like gasoline sometimes. Or smoke." She shrugs. "Chains drew me these cool pictures—wanna see?"
Before I can answer, she's pulling a folder from her backpack, showing me intricate drawings of flowers and animals—clearly done by someone with serious artistic talent. But they all look like tattoo sheets.
