Guts & Glory: Mercy (In the Shadows Security Book 1)

by Jeanne St. James

“Maybe if one of you were upfront with me from the beginning, I never would’ve stepped outside this fucking house!” she yelled.

  “For fuck’s sake, Rissa! You saw three men shot execution style. Plugged point blank right in the back of the head. That should’ve been enough,” he yelled back.

  Parris lifted shaky fingers to her lips, “Oh my God, they’re never going to stop searching for me until I’m dead! It’s not like if any length of time goes past they’ll just forget about me and move on, right?”

  “No. I told you what will end this. And if Paranzino doesn’t make it happen soon, then we will.”

  We will.

  “But you’re not getting paid for that.” And wasn’t it all about the money? And his big, fat bonus?

  Or was she missing something?

  He said nothing, his jaw moving as if he was grinding his teeth.

  After a few moments, he relaxed his jaw enough to say, “I’m getting paid to keep you alive. And, right now, that’s my focus. So, go pack your shit and get back down here double-time. I’m gonna go shower. Do not leave this house.” The last was a low, dangerous growl as he spun on his heels and strode out of the kitchen. She heard him jog up the stairs and slam his bedroom door shut.

  He didn’t have to worry, she wasn’t planning on leaving the house until he said so.

  She had messed things up enough already.

  Chapter Twelve

  Having his girl between his legs felt good. And it also felt way too fucking good to have Rissa plastered to his back on the ride through the warm night to their next safe house. With her big tits pressing against him, and her soft thighs sandwiching his hips and ass, he could imagine her riding with him on a regular basis. Though those rides might get cut short, since he’d have to take her home or pull over somewhere where he would fuck her until she rumbled as loudly as his straight pipes.

  They had headed out of the DAMC compound a lot later than he wanted. Even though it didn’t take long for Steel to bring over Mercy’s Harley and swap it out for his RPV, it took a while for Diesel to find another place outside of Shadow Valley for them to hole up in. A last minute rental hadn’t been easy to find.

  When he stopped in, Steel took their bags and also brought helmets for both him and Rissa. Even though he normally didn’t wear one, he figured it couldn’t hurt to wear full-faced brain buckets to help disguise who they were.

  He doubted anyone was watching them yet. Yet being the key word. But he’d rather play it safe anyway. Even if those texts could be traced back to Jazz and Shadow Valley, it would take time for men to get into place. That was if they didn’t have a bead on Rissa already. He had no idea how skilled Paranzino’s competitor’s men were or if he’d hired someone, or even a team, as skilled as D’s Shadows, to hunt her down.

  If he did, they could be fucked.

  He was tempted to fly her out of the country to one of his Delta Force buddies who retired down in Panama. But time wasn’t on his side right now and to get her a fake passport, and whatever else needed, could be time-consuming and get sticky. Plus, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.

  No, he fucking wasn’t. Not even for his morning runs, which helped keep him sane.

  He was also waiting for word from Paranzino himself. He had Diesel get a message to him, to update him on the situation and also ask what the fuck was taking so long out in Vegas.

  Mercy’s patience was wearing thin. Diesel’s, which was never abundant in the first place, was now non-existent. But his boss wasn’t at the point where he’d send his own crew out to Vegas to get this over and done with. Until Paranzino asked for assistance with that part of the job, and then forked over a healthy chunk of change, D would let Mercy continue to babysit a woman who was driving him fucking nuts.

  He had just walked into the house from his run when he got the call from Jazz. At first, his only thought was how her voice in his ear didn’t affect him as much as he thought it would. She was Crow’s woman now, he had no choice but to accept that. Then it hit him what she was saying and why she called him.

  It took every ounce of control not to run over to Jazz’s house to drag Rissa back by her fucking hair. After that, teach her a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget.

  When he stepped out onto the deck and saw Crow escorting her back... he had to remind himself once again, he couldn’t drag her back to the house by her ponytail, carry her upstairs and tie her to the bed, so she wouldn’t do stupid shit like she just had.

  Not only did she not fucking listen, Mercy had to go face to face with Crow, which he enjoyed about as much as a kick to the nuts.

  And worse, she believed he was pissed because she had risked his fucking bonus.

  At that point, he almost did something unthinkable, so he had to dial back his fury and take a breath, then another before he did something he’d regret.

  Unfortunately, the very woman he was trying to protect jeopardized her own safety as well as Jazz’s. And to think about Jazz being in a situation like she had been when she had been only twenty-two, one that fucked her up for years, had nearly sent him over that thin edge he always skated along.

  But it was more than that. In those few minutes it took for Crow to escort Rissa back to him, he had a flashback of Jazz and Kiki in that abandoned house, bound, bloody, bruised, and broken. And during that goddamn flashback, he couldn’t stop picturing Rissa in Kiki’s place.

  He also couldn’t stop reliving the bone-chilling and hair-raising reaction Hawk, the Angels’ VP, had when he saw his woman like that on the filthy floor.

  Mercy knew his own reaction would’ve been much worse. But he wouldn’t have made any noise, had no outward reaction. Instead, he would have only focused on finding those motherfuckers who kidnapped Kiki and Jazz.

  Black Jack and Squirrel had been lucky they got away that day. However, he, and the rest of the Shadows, made sure those fuckers weren’t so lucky when they were finally caught. But it had taken too long to find them for Mercy’s liking.

  Locating those two motherfuckers had been his sole mission and he didn’t stop until they found them. If something like that happened to Rissa...

  He released a slow breath and tried to shake that image.

  Mercy needed to talk to Diesel again. He needed a deadline on Paranzino “cleaning up” his problem. If it didn’t happen soon, he’d personally take Paranzino’s competition, and every single one of his heavies, out himself. He was pretty damn sure the rest of the Shadows would help. They’d just do it off the clock if the “casino mogul” wasn’t willing to fork out the dough to pay them.

  His teammates would do for him what he would do for them.

  They had each other’s six.

  For life.

  About twenty minutes east of Shadow Valley, Diesel found and booked a “rustic” vacation rental that included only the basics. Luckily, it was available immediately. Though the place was isolated, it was fully furnished. Even better, it didn’t have Wi-Fi, so Rissa couldn’t contact anyone with her e-reader.

  The only thing Mercy didn’t like when Hunter texted the pics of the cabin was that it was surrounded with woods. Being summer, that meant good cover for someone wanting to approach the place without being spotted.

  Mercy turned his bike up a rutted dirt lane, taking it slow and careful so he didn’t dump his girls. Both of them.

  At that fucking thought, he almost rolled his eyes at himself.

  He had seen a lot of the DAMC brothers fall hard for their women. With that came the loss of their independence. That even included the big guy himself, Diesel, and that wasn’t going to ever happen to Mercy.

  Pussy was never going to rule his life. Or change it, either. No matter how good it was.

  Damn right.

  He’d been told the property had a shed large enough to store his bike for the time they’d be there and one of the guys would drop off their bags, along with some boxes of food and basic supplies.

  He should have whoever was doing the shop
ping throw in a box of condoms, but at this point that ship had already sailed. Plus, it could’ve been Jewel doing the shopping. At least he hoped it was, otherwise they were getting a box full of beer, Pringles and beef jerky to live on for the next who knows how many days.

  And, once again, asking for condoms was evidence he was doing something he shouldn’t be doing with his job.

  Diesel would blow a gasket.

  Truth was, no one wanted to be around Diesel with a blown head gasket. Certainly not Mercy.

  He blew out a breath in irritation.

  Fuck, he hated full-faced helmets and couldn’t wait to take it off. He drove his Harley around to the back of the cabin, which he hoped looked better in the daylight than the dead of night. If it looked that bad in the dark, he couldn’t imagine it would look any better when the sun was shining.

  No surprise why it had been immediately available for rent. But they had to take what they could get.

  He’d survived staying in many rat holes throughout his life. Hell, there were many times he’d slept out in the open without shelter. So, he could deal with it. Rissa? Not so much.

  This was no Four Seasons with a spa and turn-down service. Mercy just hoped they had running water and it was hot when they showered.

  He stopped in front of the shed and yanked off his helmet, grateful he could now breathe. He hated confining shit like that.

  He barked, “Off,” to Rissa and without hesitation—thank fuck—she gingerly peeled herself from his back, grabbed onto his shoulder for balance and climbed off his bike. After she unstrapped and pulled her own helmet off, she stared at him. “Open the fucking door.”

  Even in the dark, he could see she shot him a frown and probably mentally gave him the finger. But he didn’t give a fuck.

  The woman needed to listen.

  Whether she wanted to or not.

  When she shoved her helmet at him, he took it and watched as she approached the rickety shed. The headlight from his bike lit up her generous ass as she bent over to grab the garage door handle and attempted to pull it up.

  He pursed his lips and watched as that ass wiggled enticingly as she struggled to open the piece of shit door.

  She was one determined woman. She didn’t give up, turn to him and whine about it. Nor was she worried about breaking a nail as she kept working at it until finally the door freed unexpectedly and she fell backward onto her ass in the dirt as the door sprung open.

  He was sure she couldn’t hear his chuckle over the rumble of his exhaust as he drove his Harley into the shed and shut it down. After dismounting, he stacked the helmets on the seat and turned to see she had risen to her feet on her own power and was brushing the dirt off that sweet, fuckable ass of hers.

  He schooled his face as he stepped back outside and slammed the overhead door closed. The springs probably hadn’t been greased in decades, no wonder she had struggled.

  He stepped toe to toe with Rissa, who now stood glaring at him with her hands planted on her hips.

  “Hands off your hips. Hands on mine,” he demanded.

  Her eyes widened for a split second, then she stepped into him, close enough her tits were pushing against his chest. Yeah, that’s exactly where they belonged. Pushed into his back while on his bike, pushed into his chest when she wasn’t.

  Swinging like pendulums when he was fucking her from behind.

  She curled her fingers around both of his hips and tipped her face up to him, her eyes now hooded. “You’re hard.”

  No shit. He’d been hard almost the whole ride. How could he not be with her warm pussy shoved against his ass?

  Then when she had bent over...

  Instead of answering her, he dropped his head and took her mouth. He’d been wanting to do that since he had pinned her against the wall by the neck at Nash’s house. But he’d resisted because he’d been seeing red and that kiss would have been nothing but brutal punishment. Neither would have enjoyed it.

  It was stupid for them to be standing out in the open, even in the dark, but he couldn’t not take a quick taste. It would have to hold him over until he got to fuck her in whatever disaster of a bed was in the cabin.

  Because no matter what, he was fucking her tonight, and every night, until this job was over.

  His tongue slid through her mouth and tangled briefly with hers before he pulled away just enough to ask, “You wet?”

  She nodded. He shoved a hand between them and down the front of her yoga pants. Since she wasn’t wearing any panties, his finger hit that slick slit and slipped inside her.

  She gasped, which made his dick even harder.

  “How close are you to coming?” he murmured against her lips.

  “I already came once on the back of your bike.”

  He pulled his head back to stare down at her. Fuck, his dick was throbbing now. “When?”

  She lifted one hand from his hip and waved it absently. “Like halfway through the ride... The vibrations...” she drifted off.

  He smiled.

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Are you smiling?”

  “No,” he answered, then stepped back from her. “We need to get inside.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along through the small overgrown patch of weeds to the backdoor of the cabin. He found the key hidden where the owner said it would be. Which turned out to be a shitty hiding spot. For fuck’s sake, people were careless with their safety.

  Unlocking the door and stepping inside, Rissa followed on his heels. Before he could find a light switch and Rissa could turn up her nose with what they saw in the light, he had her pinned against the door, his mouth on her again, and his hand back down her pants.

  She was more wet now than a few moments ago. With a thumb on her clit and his middle finger moving in and out of her slick heat, he captured her cry in his mouth and it didn’t take long for the pulsations around his finger to start and her body to go limp against him.

  He broke the kiss, pressed his forehead to hers until they both caught their breath. He was fighting a raging hard-on that he couldn’t do anything about at this point. Once he was breathing a little more normally, he slipped his fingers from her and raised them to his own mouth, sucking the middle one clean.

  She tasted so fucking good.

  When she was gone, finally safe and back in Vegas, he’d never forget the taste of her. Her scent. Her cries of “Ryan” when she was about to come. No other woman called him that. They never even knew his name. Or even his call name.

  She was the only one who used the name he was born with.

  What he was doing with her was beyond careless, it was dangerous. He was getting addicted to something he shouldn’t because once this was over, he was going to have to quit cold-turkey.

  And she would be a hard habit to break.

  He knew he should stop. Leave her alone. Follow his own rules about once and done. He was being stupid and being stupid got people hurt.

  Even so, he couldn’t leave her alone. He’d never done a drug in his life, but he could imagine his pull toward Rissa was similar to an addict chasing that next high.

  He needed to let her go, turn on some lights, inspect the property, make sure everything was satisfactory and safe for the most part. Especially before one of the other Shadows showed up with their supplies.

  But he couldn’t move away from her. Not yet.

  “Ryan,” she whispered, one hand gripping the front of his tee, the fingers of the other sliding over his cheek. Those fingers slid lower and curled around the side of his neck as she released his shirt and dropped her hand to his erection.

  Her fingers moved up, quickly worked the button of his cargo pants and slid down the zipper. She released his neck and used both hands to lower his pants down enough to circle her fingers around his dick. He swallowed the groan that began to rise.

  He needed to stop her. This was not the time.

  Later, once things were settled, he could give her what she needed and wanted, then he could take the same. Bu
t right now...

  Fuck, right now, she was going to her knees and circling the head with her hot, wet tongue. He grabbed her ponytail to stop her but ended up yanking the elastic band free that was holding her hair back. Before it could fall around her shoulders, he took two fistfuls of it and helped guide her head back and forth as she took him almost completely into her mouth.

  Well, not completely. But with her fingers circling the root and her mouth performing the magic it was doing, she might as well be deep-throating it.

  “We don’t have time for this,” he managed to get out without groaning. His fingers flexed in her hair as he fought the urge to take over and fuck her face.

  Of course, she didn’t answer... Her mouth... and lips... and that wicked, wicked, tongue were way too busy. While he wanted to drop his head back and close his eyes, he bent it forward instead, so he could watch her. Even in the dark, because his eyes had adjusted, he could see her expression, the heaviness of her eyelids, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

  He curled his fingers around her throat and pressed a thumb to her pulse. It was racing. He was sure her nipples were beaded, her pussy getting even wetter. Rissa wasn’t sucking him off because she felt obligated, she was doing it because she enjoyed it.

  A man could always tell the difference. The way she worked his dick made it clear that there wasn’t anything she didn’t like about taking him into her mouth.

  For fuck’s sake, this woman was determined to take him to his knees. To make him feel something. Anything.

  Even if only for her.

  Maybe that wasn’t her actual goal. Maybe she simply wanted to use him like the rest of the women he’d been with.

  They used him, he used them. Means to an end.

  But the woman on her knees before him drudged up feelings he hardly recognized anymore, shit he hadn’t experienced since before he enlisted in the Army. Since before he’d seen and done things that made him build those barriers. The ones that he needed to keep him a functioning man. Ones he needed to prevent him from eating his own gun or going on a killing spree. Barriers that helped him cope with normal people who hadn’t done or seen what he had. The ones who lived their lives clueless on the realities of war, death and dying. Of every kind of injustice known to man.