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

by Jeanne St. James

  Fuck that.

  He quickly and quietly moved down the hallway and...

  Fuck me.

  Came face-to-face with Jewel. And of course, he couldn’t push past her, pretending he had somewhere important to go because she was blocking the hallway with a double stroller.

  Both baby girls spotted him at the same time Diesel’s ol’ lady did.

  He was fucked.

  Indie waved her arms at him and gurgled happily, wanting him to pick her up. He winced when Violet called out his name.

  “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Hey, handsome,” Jewelee said with a wide smile.

  He bit back a sigh at being discovered. “Hey, sexy momma.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him you’re lurking out here trying to avoid getting pulled into that Kelsea bullshit.”

  “Thank f—” He bit off the last part and glanced down at the girls.

  “You know they hear it constantly, so don’t stress it. Emma might have convinced Dawg to use ‘fudge’ instead of ‘fuck,’ but I knew it would be a wasted effort with D. Or hell, any of the brothers. I’m sure we’ll be getting calls from their teachers about their offensive language when they’re old enough for kindergarten.”

  Mercy cocked a brow. “You’re saying D’s gonna let them go to kindergarten?”

  Jewel laughed, then released a loud, exaggerated sigh. “I’m sure I’ll be homeschooling them.” She frowned. “Why did I ever have two kids with that man?”

  Mercy’s lips twitched. “One, because you guys can’t stop banging. And two, because you love him.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s why. I almost forgot.” She smiled again, her blue eyes that reminded him of Rissa’s lighting up.

  “Sure you did.”

  Jewel had long hair like Rissa, too, but her brown was a lot darker. And, even after popping out two Diesel-sired babies, Jewel was still petite. Total opposite of her beast of a man and also unlike Rissa, who was not petite or vertically challenged at all.

  He needed to stop thinking of her. She was gone. A finished job. Another reason why he needed to move on to the next one.

  Which brought him back to how he was here to talk to Diesel. But, again, that would have to wait until it was safe, and Ryder was on the road to retrieve Kelsea.

  “Mercy!” Vi yelled again, lifting her little, pudgy arms and making grabby hands.

  With a sigh, he reached down, unbuckled the belt that secured her in the stroller and lifted the toddler until she looped her arms around his neck, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

  “Indie’s going to be jealous,” Jewel said softly, her expression as she watched them just as soft. “Is it wrong to say that seeing you holding a baby makes my ovaries explode?”

  His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You want more?”

  “Fuck no!” she quickly answered. “It’s just very... hot to think of you making babies. Not the actual babies themselves.”

  “For fuck’s sake, you’re going to get me shot if you say that kind of shit.”

  Jewel laughed. “He didn’t hear it. He’s too busy arguing with Ryder.”

  Mercy tilted his head and listened. She was right. But still...

  “You never wanted kids of your own?” Jewel asked carefully.

  Mercy gripped Vi a little tighter and had to fight to keep his body loose. It was one thing to hold D’s girls when their father wasn’t around, but it was another to consider having babies of his own.

  It had never even crossed his mind. He wasn’t made to be a father.

  Or a husband.

  Or even a boyfriend.

  Or, hell, even a repeat visitor in a woman’s bed.

  “You miss her?”

  That question drew his attention back to Jewel. “Who?”

  But he knew who she was fucking talking about. Goddamn it.

  Jewel plugged her hands on her hips and lifted her brows.

  He mentally cringed. The woman was a compact powerhouse. One who could stand up to any of them, since she had a lot of practice with her beast of an ol’ man. She could look the devil straight in the eye and spit in his fucking face while laughing.

  “One day I went up to Diesel’s room at church—which was gross by the way—found him in bed with one of the sweet butts. Skanky Tequila to be exact, if you need to know.”

  He didn’t.

  “But the reason I’d gone there was to let him know I was giving up. I had enough and was tired of beating my head against the wall trying to get him to see us. Us. Me and him. He fought us so hard that I was exhausted. I couldn’t fight anymore. He refused to see what was right in front of his eyes. I wanted to let him find the right woman for him. Someone who made him happy. At that point, I was convinced it wasn’t me. I couldn’t give him what he needed. Guess what, Mercy?”

  Oh fuck. He wasn’t falling for that trap by answering.

  “It was me. He was just so motherfucking stubborn he was blind. Sorry, girls,” she said quickly. “You know, Diesel’s kind of like you. He doesn’t usually show his feelings. He doesn’t do PDA. He doesn’t even tell us he loves us, even though he shows it. The way he is with me when no one is looking.... The way he is with the girls and doesn’t give a shit that anyone is watching. That’s how he shows us.”

  The man definitely showed it. His actions spoke much louder than any words he could ever grunt out.

  “He would die for you, Jewelee.” That man would sacrifice everything for his woman, for his daughters.

  “I know.”

  “For the girls, too.”

  “That I definitely know. I never expected a man like him to be such a great father. But what scares me the most, handsome, is that I almost gave up and walked away. I could’ve ended up with someone who wasn’t a part of my very soul. Or I could still be alone.” She shrugged. “I don’t know Parris. I didn’t get to meet her or talk to her. But, even so, after the time you spent with her, you’re different.”

  No, he wasn’t.

  “I see it in your face. You deny it to yourself, but it’s true. You think you’re incapable of love, just like D did. You believe you don’t deserve it. You worry that someone might love you back and that person will be dealing with things no one should ever deal with. But, handsome, Diesel is no cake walk. But you know what? To me, he’s worth every difficult step.” Her words caught. “I accept him as he is. I don’t try to change him. Why deny yourself a piece of that? Do you think she wouldn’t accept you as you are? D said she’s a therapist. Wouldn’t someone like her be the perfect person to understand and accept you and all your real and imagined faults?”

  “A sex therapist,” Mercy clarified in a mutter.

  “Oh, that’s right. The guys did say that. But still...” Her head tilted. “Wait, you’re not having any problem in that department, are you?”

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  Jewel waved a hand around in the air. “Never mind. I don’t want to know if you are. I want to keep my fantasy alive.” She grinned, then sobered quickly. “But seriously, you deserve someone, just like the rest of us.”

  “Why are you suddenly playing matchmaker? There are five other men you work with that are single.”

  “I’m not playing matchmaker. I’m just trying to get you to see the light. You deserve to be happy. We all do. Why deny that? Like I said, I’ve seen the change in you since that job ended. To be truthful, D’s noticed it, too.”

  Mercy’s narrowed his eyes on her. “Did he tell you to talk to me?”

  Jewel barked out a laugh. “He’s D. He told me to leave you,” she lowered her voice two octaves and grunted, “‘the fuck alone,’” her voice went back to normal, “when I expressed my worry.”

  “Nothing to be worried about. Nothing’s fucking changed, Jewel. You’re just imagining what you’re seeing.”

  Jewel tilted her head and studied him for a long minute.

  Oh fuck. To avoid her gaze, he bounced Vi in his arms and glanced down at th
e gorgeous little girl who it was hard to believe came from D’s loins.

  Jewel jerked the wide stroller to the side, so she could climb around it and go toe to toe with him.

  Oh shit.

  She reached up, her fingertips lightly brushing over Vi’s dark, soft hair, then cupped his cheek before he could pull out of reach. Son of a bitch, she was sneaky.

  “Handsome... If anyone can handle the muck I know you have swirling deep down inside you, it’s a woman who’s trained and has the experience to do so. D also told me how on the way to the airport, she made him turn around and go back to your place. So, not only does that prove she’s stubborn, she wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t willing to be with you. You, Mercy. And all the baggage that comes along with you.”

  “She doesn’t know everything.”

  Jewel lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “And she probably never will. There’s shit that you and the rest of the Shadows have done just in the time that you’ve worked for D that no one should ever know. And I can’t imagine the shit that you’ve dealt with when you all were active military doing your Special Forces G.I. Joe shit. I know your backgrounds to a certain extent, I can figure out the rest all on my own. I watched you guys deal with the Warriors. I know you guys have done some questionable and heavy shit. Do you think she needs to know all of that?”

  “Do you?”

  Jewel pursed her lips and, after a second, shook her head. “You’re a good man, Mercy. I can’t imagine you’ve done things to people who are innocent and didn’t deserve what was done. I know how protective you are with women. I saw it with Kiki and Jazz. I saw it when the Warriors grabbed me. I saw it with Jayde. What’s normal for you might be considered horrendous to someone who doesn’t know the truth or reasons behind the actions. But maybe you just need to show her that you only do what’s necessary to help others. Because in the end, no matter what you’ve done, there’s always been a good reason.” She raised a hand to stop him when he opened his mouth to argue. “And you can’t tell me otherwise. You, handsome, are a true fucking hero.”

  She gave him a small smile, dropped her hand from his cheek and stepped back, taking Violet from him. She gave the toddler a kiss on her forehead before lifting her gaze back to Mercy.

  “Everything I just said is true, Mercy. And if you can only believe that, then I promise you that you can be content with the choices and actions you’ve made, no matter how brutal they were. But one mistake you have made is letting Parris go back to Vegas when that was the last thing you wanted her to do. Am I right?”

  He wasn’t going to answer that. “You don’t know her.”

  “No, but I know you. Or at least the parts that you’ve allowed me to see. Weirdly enough, I love you like family. Nothing you could tell me would ever make me change my mind about that. Because, again, you’ve made choices no one else could make, and by making those correct but difficult decisions those actions that have affected you. No one should ever judge you for that. If she does, then she’s not the right woman for you. If she understands, then she is. But in the end, it’s up to you to tell her your secrets or not. She might not want to know. She might just accept that you did everything you did for a just cause. Because, Mercy, that’s what it was. No matter what you think.”

  As she was putting Violet back into the double stroller, she said, “One more thing...”

  Mercy bit back a groan.

  She finished strapping Vi in and straightened. “I’m proud to know you and the rest of the crew. I’m so grateful you have my ol’ man’s back. I’m so glad you have helped out my family, whether club or blood. You’ve never balked once at anything D has asked from you. None of you have. Not counting Kelsea.” Her lips twisted. “You have put your life on the line, you have risked being caught and arrested. You guys have truly become family, not only to each other and to D and me, but to the DAMC as well. I know D has tried to keep you guys on the outside for good reason, but you all have become an integral part of the brotherhood. I just want you to know that.”

  “While I appreciate—”

  Jewel wasn’t done yet. “Now, don’t be a fool. Go bring your woman home. There’s always room for one more seat at the DAMC sisterhood table. We’d be glad to have her because, for fuck’s sake, we sure need a therapist amongst our midst with us having to deal with a bunch of pig-headed, stubborn fucks.”

  “Woman!” D bellowed from the direction of his office.

  “Fuck,” Jewel whispered and rolled her eyes.

  “Your beast is paging you.” Thank fuck. The woman had run her mouth way too much at one time for him.

  He certainly wasn’t ready for all the truths she had laid on him.

  She lifted her hand. “See? There you go. Who couldn’t use a good couch session when dealing with someone like that?” She sighed. “He must be going through withdrawals since I’ve had his girls all morning.”

  Mercy smirked.

  She climbed back behind the stroller and shoved it forward, running over Mercy’s toes, even though he had flattened himself against the wall. He was glad he had steel-tipped boots on.

  Jewel paused. Goddamn, this woman was relentless!

  “She might be the one, Mercy. Don’t miss out on what you could have. She might be good for your soul. Think about it. Then think about whether you can handle her being with someone else. Loving someone else. Especially if she truly belongs to you.”

  Fucking motherfucker. The woman knew how to drive the final nail into his coffin, that was for damn sure.

  As Jewel steered the stroller into D’s office, Ryder was squeezing his way out, his face twisted with fury.

  As he stomped down the hallway, he spotted Mercy and pointed a finger at him. “You! It’s your fuckin’ turn. I’m so done with that goddamn bitch. You’ve got nothin’ else going on. Time for you to step up.”

  Mercy lifted his palms. “Sounded like D wants you to deal with it. Not going against the boss’s orders. And I got something to do anyway.”

  “What? What cake job did you fuckin’ get?”

  If Ryder thought what Mercy had to do next was cake, he was so fucking wrong.

  For fuck’s sake, he’d prefer to go back to the Middle East, swallow a mouthful of sand, dodge .50 caliber bullets and tip-toe through a desert full of land-mines than do what he was thinking about doing.

  Which would be the hardest thing he ever did in his life.

  Epilogue

  It had become habit. The first thing she’d do after waking up is slip into her bathing suit and dive into her in-ground pool to do laps. Since coming home about three weeks ago, Parris found it a good way to clear her thoughts. She’d always loved swimming, but now it was more like a type of therapy.

  And she needed it to get him out of her head. Especially since he was stuck in her noggin like nicotine gum on the bottom of her Manolo Blahnik shoes.

  She stood at the tiled edge of the swimming pool, then, pushing off with her toes, sliced cleanly through the air and into the crystal clear water.

  Okay, at least it felt like she cleanly sliced through it. She was going to hold onto that imagery as if she was some sort of self-proclaimed Olympic diver. She swam underwater for a distance like a sexy, lithe mermaid before popping up at the center of the pool.

  Boy, she was on a roll this morning with her out-of-control fantasies.

  “I hate this city.”

  She coughed as she swallowed some awful-tasting pool water when she gasped.

  Holy shit. Her thoughts were really out of control! Now she was having delusions. Maybe she was developing some sort of personality disorder.

  She really should see a therapist about that.

  She jerked her head from one side to the other to shake the water out of her ears.

  “I hate that you live here. You shouldn’t.”

  Okay, yes, a one-sided conversation was filling her head. That was not a sign of a sane person. Her obsession with a man who had what was equivalent to an emot
ional black hole was apparently driving her over the edge. And not the good kind of edge, like right before having an orgasm.

  She watched in stunned silence as that very obsession walked around the side of the pool to stand in her range of vision. Her blood began to pulse in her veins like an early 80’s NYC discotheque.

  Holy shit.

  So, she wasn’t crazy after all. Okay, she could still be crazy. But she wasn’t imagining the handsome dark-haired, expressionless eye candy in sinfully soft jeans that clung to legs the length of the Stratosphere Tower, was she?

  She swam closer to the edge where he was standing. Then it hit her she probably looked like a drowned rat with her hair plastered to her head instead of a sexy siren beckoning passing sailors with perky tits and a beauty pageant wave.

  She gripped the curved tile tightly so she wouldn’t drop like a sand bag to the bottom as she blinked up at the uber masculine mirage before her. “What?”

  “I hate this city. You shouldn’t live here. You need to move.”

  She truly was losing it. Maybe she should reach out and poke at him to see if he was real. But then, she’d end up disappointed if she discovered she was only dreaming this all up.

  “Just like that, huh? Tell me... where should I live?”

  “Not here.”

  Well, in her fantasy her perfect man would communicate with complete sentences and paragraphs full of valid and logical information. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

  “I’ll come up with some.”

  She raised her brows. “Some?”

  “One.”

  “One in particular?”

  He ignored that question, instead asking one of his own, “Are you coming out or am I coming in?”

  Damn, her imagination was pretty damn impressive. She should write one of those romance books she lost herself in. She could make millions. “Do you have a bathing suit?”

  He arched an eyebrow at her.

  She shot him an inviting smile. Because why not? Why not play into the delusions she was having? “Then you are definitely coming in.”

  Well, that decided it. This had to be an illusion because the man who never smiled just gave her a wicked grin!