Running on Empty (Havoc Motorcycle Club Book 3)

by SE Jakes

  But somehow, Mercy knew. Pumped in and out of him a few times and then pulled out, undid the cuffs, and turned Linc over before kneeling between his spread legs. And then Mercy was fucking him, nailing his prostate, and Linc? Was wrapped around him, off the bed—so Mercy was supporting all his own weight and Linc’s—holding him so goddamned tightly as Mercy blew his mind. Mercy was still mostly clothed, Linc was naked and helpless and coming . . .

  Fuck. Linc was breathing hard just thinking about that. A cold shower wasn’t going to cut it. He took a long hot one instead, jerked himself twice and yelled in relief and frustration—a mix of curses and Mercy’s name.

  Mercy heard the yell and his name and raced off the porch and upstairs, only to catch a glimpse of Linc coming behind the partially steamed-up glass shower door.

  He watched for a moment, then backed away slowly and quietly headed back downstairs to wait.

  It made what he was about to do that much easier.

  Everything changed on the sixth day of Mercy’s visit, after Linc’s fifth night in a row of sneaking out and dancing and drinking his ass off at Bertha’s.

  He was, as usual, swimming laps in the lake when Mercy showed and watched him doing his laps to burn off the sexual energy that his shower hadn’t been able to. But today, Mercy didn’t stay by the house, instead walked down to the dock and waited there patiently . . . until Linc got out of the water and shook himself like a dog, silently laughing to himself as he got Mercy wet in the process. And if he and Mercy were talking, if Linc wasn’t so fucking angry, he’d laugh and laugh and let Mercy threaten him and then they’d probably fuck, right there on the dock.

  But that was the old Linc and Mercy.

  “I’m going inside to shower,” Linc told him now, but Mercy stood up and blocked his way off the dock with his body.

  Linc looked at him and crossed his arms until Mercy finally told him, “I’m here to help you move.”

  “Move?” he echoed.

  “To Havoc.”

  Linc waited for the punchline, but none came. Not even when he said, “This is a joke, right?”

  “Does it look like I’m joking?”

  No, Mercy looked serious. Harder than before, and angrier too. “I’m not moving to Havoc.”

  He tried to walk around Mercy, but Mercy stepped back so he was blocking Linc, yet not touching him. “I’m not asking, I’m telling. Anyone with Havoc ties is being called into the compound. Ask your precious Vann and he’ll tell you.”

  The fact that Mercy might actually be jealous gave Linc the first surge of hope he’d had in months. And obviously, he’d been apprised of Linc’s appetite-for-destruction tour. “For how long?”

  “As long as it takes. Bram’s staying put too. And once this threat is gone, I’ll decide where and when you can go.”

  “You’ll decide?” God, he was a fucking parrot.

  “You still owe me bond. You’ve got to work it off . . . by working for me.”

  Linc couldn’t find the words. He could barely meet Mercy’s eyes because the pain was too fresh, as if old wounds had reopened, spilling out around them onto the wooden planks of the dock. He shifted and felt a splinter slice into the bottom of his foot, and that pain was a welcome distraction from the emotional one. “What exactly does that entail?”

  “Whatever I need it to. And right now? You need to stop fucking around and pack.”

  “I want to talk to Sweet,” Linc demanded.

  “He knows. So does Bram,” Mercy assured him. “Get packed.”

  “Get screwed.”

  “That’ll happen—just not in someone else’s house.”

  “Is that what this is all about?”

  “Not all—no, it’s about protection. And I can’t do that effectively unless you’re in Havoc.”

  “But I didn’t ask for protection.” Linc sighed. “I’m not going.”

  “You’re claimed, Linc.”

  Linc’s eyes narrowed. “Come again?”

  “I might not have made this clear before and that’s where I fucked up. But make no mistake about it—you’re mine, Linc.”

  Linc’s blood surged with heat and hope at those words, but the anger in Mercy’s eyes continued to confuse him.

  It’s not directed at you—it’s all inward.

  But knowing it and believing it? Two totally different things. “Are you saying this because you think of me as a responsibility?” he asked, and Mercy’s nonanswer was the answer. Just not the one Linc wanted.

  “Besides the fact that you owe the bond, the fact that you fall under my protection is in the Havoc bylaws.”

  Linc felt a shiver go through him, and Mercy motioned for him to begin walking toward the house. He did so, reluctantly, and told himself it was only because the sun was going down and he was cold.

  Mercy continued explaining. “I saved you. We were together. You owe money. By rights, you’re mine. This isn’t playing MC anymore.”

  Linc didn’t bother saying that he knew that, that he always had, probably more than any of his friends realized. His choices—Mercy’s past—had put them on this path, and there was no turning back.

  He’d never wanted to anyway.

  Vann’s words echoed in his mind. “. . . when an MC man saves you . . . you’re his. Until he’s done with you. And Havoc men? They don’t take that lightly. Mercy won’t.”

  Linc felt like he’d taken a fucking bullet. But there wasn’t time to argue. Or really, any way to. As screwed up as it might appear to an outsider, Linc knew he’d bought himself a one-way ticket to MC-ville when he’d gotten involved with Havoc. And it wasn’t all fun and games and dancing on the bar at Bertha’s. “I’m going to shower and then I’ll pack.”

  If Mercy was surprised at the quick submission, he hid it well.

  Mercy wanted to throw the boy down on the bed and fuck him until he became pliant and happy, and if Linc had been in any shape for that, it would’ve happened.

  But he wasn’t. And so Mercy had to use his other powers of persuasion—like the fact that Linc still owed money and had an open court case.

  Linc had stopped packing and was just standing there.

  Mercy prodded him along by saying, “I’ll wait and put your bag and hog in the truck.”

  For a long moment, Mercy thought he wasn’t going to move, but finally, and with a clenched jaw, he began to throw clothes and books into a duffel bag . . . muttering the entire time.

  This wasn’t going to be easy, not with his past coming into his present. It had already fucked him up along with his relationship with Linc. If he had any hope of repairing it, they’d have to do so where it all began . . . at Havoc.

  “How long am I yours for?” Linc asked as he shoved jeans into the bag.

  “Until I cut you loose, that’s how long.”

  “Huh. When’s that time limit up, Mercy? When you make sure all the Heathens are gone?”

  “Did you come to me for bail?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you come to me to fuck?”

  Linc’s cheeks flushed. “Yes.”

  “Then you’re mine. More than mine.”

  “Bounty hunters don’t force their charges to live with them.”

  “They’re not Havoc.” Linc rolled his eyes like a petulant teenager, and Mercy’s palm itched to spank him. “You’re lucky I’m mindful of your healing.”

  “Or what?”

  “You’d be bare-assed, over my knee. Keep pushing and it might happen tonight, on my porch.”

  Linc’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and need, and Mercy was intimately familiar with that look.

  “I know you, and I know what you like.”

  Linc drew his bottom lip into his mouth and shook his head.

  “Say what you were going to say.”

  Linc shook his head. “It was nothing that would help either of us.”

  Mercy’s gut tightened. “But packing and coming to Havoc will help you.”

  Linc turned to fa
ce him. “And what’s going to help you?”

  “The same thing,” Mercy said quietly.

  You wanted Mercy’s attention. How’s that working for you now?

  And goddammit, Linc wasn’t sure how to feel.

  Going out, partying, flirting? Hell, that’s what made life good and he’d started to feel more like himself. As for work? Well hell, it was something he’d enjoyed before this, but being in Havoc and keeping secrets was TNT primed to explode.

  He could talk to Bram about it . . . but Bram would freak. He was still coming down off his own mission from hell involving the Heathens, and they didn’t need more shitty shit to bond over.

  Besides, telling Bram was like telling Sweet, which was as good as telling Mercy. Same with telling Rush, because that would run right to Ryker and again, to Mercy. All roads led to Mercy.

  Beyond that, Castle mandated secrecy. So yeah, none of this was going to work. Getting out now, until things calmed down and maybe forever, was the best bet all around. It wasn’t like he didn’t have other shit to figure out beyond work, anyway.

  Fuck. He shook all of that off and continued packing. He didn’t want to leave, because of the lake and the peace, but shit was getting heavier and having men guard him an hour outside of Havoc was pulling resources.

  Linc had friends inside of Havoc. He cared about what happened to the club, but he didn’t want to be tied down to club rules himself.

  Too late. He’d known what he was getting into. Do the crime, do the time and all that good shit.

  “Need help?” Mercy was at his bedroom door, leaning there lazily and looking too fucking good. Angry and moody and biker-ish.

  Fuckable.

  Linc sighed. “I can carry shit.”

  “Yeah? So can I.” Mercy brushed past him, shouldered his bags, and walked out, whistling for Linc to follow him.

  “Like I’m a fucking dog,” Linc muttered.

  “I could put a collar on you.” Mercy had turned fast so Linc bumped into him. Now, Mercy was tracing his collarbone. “Is that what you want—to show everyone you know you’re owned?”

  Linc growled, but he couldn’t deny how good that touch felt. As soon as Mercy’s hand moved, he felt cold and he shivered.

  Mercy frowned in concern. “You getting sick?” He put his hand on Linc’s forehead. Without thinking, Linc sank against it. “You feel okay.”

  So does this.

  Mercy stayed there for a second as if considering. “There’s one more thing we need to get clear on.”

  Linc sighed. “Only one more?”

  “That man who visits you here? He’s not allowed on Havoc property.”

  “He’s just a friend. This is his place,” Linc said.

  Mercy raised his brows. “He gave you a house? You must’ve been a good lay for him.”

  Mercy’s goad hit the mark, because Linc’s eyes went cold as ice when he answered. “Yeah, I was. He loved every fucking second of it. But you have firsthand experience in how good of a lay I am, right, Mercy?”

  “You need to back off.”

  “Don’t want to hear about how I went down on my knees for him?” Mercy pushed him against the wall, but Linc let him, didn’t fight back. Not physically at least, but fire snapped in his eyes. “Want to hear about how he filled my ass when I needed it? How he held me after I came?”

  Mercy’s mouth came down on his—to shut him up. To erase that man—and any other—from Linc’s mouth, his thoughts, to imprint him and only him on the younger man, so the only name—and cock—Linc remembered was his.

  His tongue fought with Linc’s, and Linc’s hands stayed down by his sides and not on Mercy . . . but after several moments of Mercy grinding against him, Linc was arching into him, banging his fists against the wall in frustration.

  Finally, he gave up and wrapped his arms around Mercy and tried to climb him like a tree.

  But Mercy felt Linc’s wince, a reminder that the man he held had been hurt—very—and he wasn’t ready for any kind of sex, rough or otherwise.

  Mercy lowered him gently, because Linc looked pale. His hand went to Linc’s side and rubbed.

  “C’mon, Linc. Let’s get you . . .”

  “To bed?” Linc snorted. “I’m fine. You’re only worried because of Castle. Otherwise you wouldn’t even be here. Don’t want me, don’t want anyone else to have me.”

  “Is that what Castle wants? To have you?” Mercy asked quietly.

  “I don’t think he’d say no if I asked.”

  Mercy knew Linc would try to push every single button he had—knew it and prepared for it, and Linc was still winning this round. “What about you, Linc? Would you say no? Put a stop to it? Or would you do it and think about me the entire time?”

  “Fuck you, Mercy.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  “Wait, what?” Bram asked. “What the ever-loving fuck is this?”

  Sweet watched him, tamping his patience down for the man he loved after delivering the news about Linc’s coming to Havoc. “Bram, Linc’s coming here, where he’ll be protected. Focus on that.”

  Bram stared at him, the damned defiance still completely seductive. “Linc didn’t want to come here—he’s happy at the lake house.”

  “You’re the one who worries about him constantly when he’s there without you,” Sweet reminded him.

  “I’ll worry about him wherever he is for the rest of his life,” Bram shot back.

  “It’s within Mercy’s right to make the decision to bring him here.”

  “With your approval?”

  “Mercy saved him. And he saved you,” Sweet pointed out, sidestepping the question a bit and trying to avoid bloodshed. Bram had been equally claimed—he just didn’t want to think about it now. Sweet would remind him.

  “And Mercy got Linc into this,” Bram countered. He shook his head and clenched his jaw until he finally managed, “I’ll focus on the fact that Linc is safe.”

  “And he’ll be with you.” Sweet put his arms around Bram. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “Because you will it to be so, right?”

  Sweet let a slow smile slide across his face. “Yeah, baby.”

  And finally, Bram smiled back, looking less worried. “After you finish fucking me, we’re going to talk more about this.”

  “I’m not going to be finished for a long time,” Sweet assured him.

  Rush and Ryker were playing Grand Theft Auto on Ryker’s massive flat-screen when Ryker delivered the news to him casually.

  “Hey, Mercy’s bringing Linc back.”

  Rush frowned and dug in harder, assuming Ryker was trying to distract him from the game he was winning. “As in, they’re getting back together?”

  “As in, dragging him back, caveman-style, into Havoc for protection.”

  It was enough for Rush to put down the controller and forfeit the damned game. “Ryk, that doesn’t work for me. At all.”

  Ryker frowned. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” Rush realized he was actually furious and in serious need of calming down. The problem with that was that Ryker loved a challenge.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  Rush jumped up. “Holy shit—talk about cavemen. I mean, how the fuck is it possible for Mercy to ignore Linc for months—”

  “Slept outside his door for months—Linc’s the one who banned him,” Ryker reasoned.

  “And now suddenly Mercy gets to act like he owns Linc—”

  “Linc’s been going out, doing things he shouldn’t and Mercy does own him,” Ryker continued.

  “And how the fuck are you all okay with it?”

  “And now I’m asking you to take off your clothes,” Ryker repeated. “If you make me ask a third time”—which he knew Rush would—“I’ll be happy and you will be too, just not at first.”

  Rush crossed his arms.

  “Fair enough,” Ryker murmured and stood.

  Rush put his arms up. “I realize permission is
an old-fashioned concept but . . .”

  Ryker sighed. “Linc’s been claimed.”

  “‘Claimed’?” Rush repeated doubtfully.

  “Yeah. So are you.”

  “You’re . . . joking? Right?”

  “You sayin’ the idea of being claimed doesn’t make your dick hard?” Ryker asked, his smile knowing, and yeah, Rush’s dick suddenly equaled hard. “Because you didn’t seem to mind it when I chased your ass all over God’s green earth.”

  Rush backed up but Ryker was stalking toward him as he spoke, with a look in his eyes Rush was intimately familiar with. “Ryk, we’re not talking about—”

  “I was.” Ryker made contact, tugged him close. “Do you trust me?”

  “With my life,” Rush said, without a second’s hesitation. “With my goddamned heart and soul.”

  “And here I thought I was the romantic. Now, take off your clothes and let’s get to the showing how I claimed you part.”

  Rush considered his options, and since Ryker was both leading him and stripping him at the same time, he saw no reason to not let Ryker re-explain this whole claiming thing, for clarification purposes.

  Because you could never have too much knowledge.

  Two hours later, Linc stood on the porch of Mercy’s house, nestled in the protection of the Havoc compound, and it was all so damned familiar and yet it felt like he was moving in with a total stranger.

  Mercy walked back and forth, brushing by him several times as he brought Linc’s belongings inside. When he was done, instead of demanding Linc come inside, which is what Linc had expected to happen, he just left the door open and didn’t come back out.

  Because you’re safe here.

  Linc wanted to laugh at that. Being with Mercy was the most dangerous thing for him at the moment.

  But after several moments, he followed Mercy’s path inside the house and found him in the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen, nursing a beer. “Your stuff’s in the bedroom.”

  Linc had expected him to say guest bedroom but he didn’t question it, just walked upstairs to Mercy’s room and, sure enough, his stuff was there.