Down & Dirty: Crow: Dirty Angels MC, book 10

by St. James, Jeanne

  “Jasmine,” he murmured again.

  How did he know her name?

  She had no idea who he was. Never saw him before. Was he a Warrior coming back to finish what they started?

  No, couldn’t be. If he was, he would have dragged her out of her car by now, even dragged her by her hair back to his vehicle. He also wasn’t wearing colors. He was wearing a black T-shirt that clung tightly to his well-built torso and bulging arms. And that was not the body of a typical biker.

  “I—I have no idea who you are,” she whispered, the tremble in her voice too revealing.

  “Don’t remember me?”

  She let her gaze roam over his face again. Maybe she met him before the scar? “Should I?”

  His expressionless, piercing gray eyes narrowed. “Maybe not.”

  “How do you know me?” While she was talking to him, she was reaching slowly behind her, trying to hide the motion by blocking it with her body. Her cell phone was still tucked into her purse. If she could only get it... Press three numbers...

  But his eyes caught her movement and his jaw tightened. “You’re safe with me.”

  Oh sure. Just him announcing that made it believable.

  “I’m Mercy.”

  Mercy.

  Suddenly, her thoughts began to spin, and she couldn’t catch her breath.

  Mercy.

  “You saw... You saw...” Everything. Me naked, bleeding, bruised, broken. “What they did to me.”

  She turned away from him and grabbed the steering wheel, pressing her forehead to it and trying her best to suck in oxygen. “You were there,” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut as a flash of a memory hit her. A sliver of remembrance. Diesel. Hawk. Kiki... Other men. She didn’t know what they looked like, just heard them while they were in the room for a very short time. She heard Diesel bark orders at them. And then they were gone.

  But everything was just bits and pieces. Some of those splintered memories of that day. The memories that haunted her.

  Changed her forever.

  That feeling of helplessness.

  That loss of hope.

  The fight to survive slowly leaving her body like the blood they drew.

  Giving up.

  No longer holding on.

  Just...

  Letting go. Letting the darkness take her. Enshroud her. Make it all end.

  “Jazz.”

  Her fingers ached from how hard she was gripping the steering wheel. But she couldn’t let go.

  She jerked when fingers brushed hair away from her face. She opened her eyes and turned to him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Want to show you something.”

  Jesus. Was that how her eyes looked? Like his? Devoid of emotion?

  When he didn’t continue, she asked, “What?”

  He shook his head. “Not here.”

  “Where? What is it?”

  “Will you come with me?”

  Should she trust this guy? Yes, he was one of Diesel’s guys. His crew. One of his Shadows. But still...

  “My car won’t start, so I can’t follow you.” A lame excuse not to go with him. But true.

  “You can ride with me.”

  Her eyes flicked to the black SUV wide enough to block the ally. “I don’t know.”

  “Just need to show you something.”

  “Why?”

  “You need to see it.”

  She studied his face closer. She looked beyond the scar. She could see what he looked like before, how handsome he’d once been. He was in no way ugly now, but the scar was distracting. It caught your attention first and you really had to concentrate to see the rest of him.

  Kind of like her. She existed somewhere beyond her “scars.” But you had to get past them first. “What does it have to do with me?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Her eyes flicked to her purse, then back to him.

  “Bring your phone, but I swear you’re safe with me. Won’t keep you long.”

  Won’t keep you long.

  Keep: To retain possession of.

  Retain possession.

  She mentally shook herself. Where the fuck did that come from? She couldn’t be scared of every male that crossed her path. Worried that they were going to take her, possess her against her will.

  She jerked when he reached into the car, cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb lightly across her skin. “Do I scare you?”

  Yes. Because you’re big and strong and there’s no way I could fight you off.

  “Sorry, baby, I promise you’re safe with me. Wanna prove that to you.” He stood and reached his large hand into the car.

  She stared at it for a second, chewing on her bottom lip. Then, fighting the instinct to flee, she took it. He assisted her out of the car, yanked her keys out of the ignition and slammed the door behind her.

  Her heart thumped in her chest as she followed him back to his vehicle.

  She hoped she wasn’t making a dangerous mistake.

  Chapter Nine

  Mercy pulled up to a detached garage behind a two-story, Cape Cod-style home. A house out in the middle of nowhere with a mini-van parked out front and a swing set in the backyard.

  “You live here?” Because if he did, she was surprised. No, more like shocked.

  He didn’t answer her, instead he parked directly in front of the garage, shut the vehicle off and got out.

  He wanted to show her he had kids? A normal life? What?

  The passenger door swung open and he once again offered his what-seemed-like-enormous hand.

  Like he ignored her question, she ignored his hand and got out on her own, climbing down carefully from the beast of a vehicle. “Is this thing bullet-proof?”

  He only grunted, then turned his back on her to head around to the side of the garage. She followed a few steps behind.

  “Trusting you not to tell anyone about this place. Expecting you to trust me, also need to trust you. Deal?” he shot over his shoulder.

  “Shouldn’t you have asked me that before you brought me here?”

  He grunted again, then stopped at a windowless metal door that had a keypad on it. He pressed a five-digit code and Jazz heard the lock release.

  When Mercy opened the door, Jazz peered around his bulk into the dark interior. Her heart skipped a beat when his big hand pushed her inside. She froze as she stood just inside the door since she couldn’t see shit. At least until an overhead light suddenly blinded her. She blinked and looked around. The section of the garage they stood in had a solid wall separating it from the front portion where vehicles would be parked.

  He moved past her and approached another door to what only could be another room inside of the room where they stood. It had a hasp with a padlock on it. Did he just unlock it using his thumbprint?

  “Haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day...” he said as he unlatched the door.

  Well, that was a bit creepy. She wasn’t sure how to take that news.

  He pushed the second door open and reached in to turn on the light. Then he stepped back. He lifted his hand, indicating she should move forward and into the room.

  Was this where she was going to be hacked apart into a million pieces? Were there plastic sheets lining the walls, like on the series Dexter?

  A shiver ran down her spine. What the hell was going on?

  Before she let him shove her into the second room, she stepped inside on her own power. At first, she didn’t understand what she was looking at. Her brain wasn’t letting her process just what it was that hung on the walls in this smaller room.

  If she thought his words had been creepy, this... this...

  The blood drained from her face and she became a little lightheaded. What was all this?

  Why did he have a room full of cuts that bore the insignia and rockers of the Shadow Warriors?

  She wobbled. She put her hand out for balance but only hit air. She needed t
o sit, but there was nowhere to plunk her ass down. Besides the floor. Which she very well may hit when she passed out.

  Mercy came behind her and, with his hands on her shoulders, steadied her. “Needed to show you this. Not going to stop until the cut of every fucking Shadow Warrior is hanging on these walls. Every fucking single one.”

  These cuts were trophies he took. Like a fucking serial killer. Was she right about the Dexter part, only she wasn’t his target? Was he a serial killer? Who would do such a thing? What type of person would keep this kind of evidence of what they had done?

  He didn’t do this just for her, right? There had to be another reason besides what happened to her all those years ago in that abandoned house. Because why else would someone go to that extreme unless the Warriors had done something to him personally?

  She eyeballed him. He was watching her, an empty expression on his scarred face.

  “Did they do that to your face?”

  He barked out a sharp laugh, but it wasn’t warm. No, it was frigid and made her shiver once again. “No.”

  “Why... Why are you so intent on taking all of them down? I’m assuming that’s what all this is? The owners of these cuts... they’re...” Dead. Gone. Maybe even had been tortured?

  She knew Diesel’s guys were former Special Ops who had done things most humans would never do, things most humans could never bear doing. While doing their patriotic duty, they were most likely asked to do things above and beyond the norm. But still...

  “Because of you, baby.”

  His “baby” and Crow’s “baby” affected her totally different. Crow’s sounded warm and meaningful when he called her that. Mercy’s was...

  She didn’t know how to describe it.

  “Because of what I saw. What I’ll never forget. I do this for you. But also for Kiki. For Jewel. For all you women that the Warriors ever... touched, ever hurt.”

  “So, not just me.”

  “No, not just you.”

  She let her gaze sweep around the room again, looking closer this time. “Are their cuts...”

  Was Black Jack and Squirrel’s cut among them?

  “Yeah.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling relieved that neither of those two would ever hurt anyone again. She didn’t feel bad for them, she felt a strange satisfaction.

  She wondered if she’d ever rid herself of the hatred for the men who took her and changed her life forever.

  When she opened her eyes, her gaze landed on an oddball cut. One that was not like the rest.

  Holy shit.

  Holy shit.

  Holy motherfucking shit.

  It was not a Warrior’s cut, and it was held in place to the wall with a huge knife stabbed directly into the center of the very familiar patch.

  She pulled out of his grasp and went over to it. Even though it was halfway up the wall, she could still reach it. Carefully flipping the right side over, she read the identifying patches. The spot where the president patch used to be was not only bare, but the leather was darker there, and only a few stray threads remained. But the patch below that empty spot remained.

  Pierce.

  She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t swallow. They didn’t just strip the former DAMC president of his colors.

  Hell no, they didn’t.

  They stripped him of his life. She released the cold, stiff leather from her trembling fingers and blindly took two steps back. She collided with a warm, solid body.

  She pulled away quickly and turned to face him.

  “That one was for Diamond. For Brooke’s mother. For Zak. And everyone else who’s life he touched and not in a good fuckin’ way.”

  “Diamond? What did he do to Diamond?” Her question was whispered, her mind racing on all the possibilities. Crow had mentioned he touched Diamond when she was fifteen, but had the former DAMC president done more than just touch?

  But Mercy ignored that question, too. “Once I get the last Warrior, I’m going to burn them all. They’ll all cease to exist.”

  “How many are left?” Did she want to know?

  “Hard to get a good head count. But that one right there,” he pointed toward one that had dark, dried blood stains on it, “was their prez. Being nomads, they were never organized well, but now? A complete cluster fuck. Club’s been pretty much disbanded, thank fuck. Just a couple stragglers left behind hanging onto history from what we can tell.”

  “I don’t know whether to thank you or be horrified,” she told him truthfully.

  “Just wanted you to see how we’ve been working our asses off. Making Shadow Valley safe. Hoping you’ll realize you don’t have to worry now you’re home.”

  “I’m not sure I’m staying,” she answered. “In fact, my plan was never to stay.”

  Suddenly, he was there. Toe to toe with her, grabbing her chin and lifting her face to his. “Was hoping...”

  Oh shit. “What?” She studied the lift the scar created at the corner of his mouth. It made him look more sinister than as if he was smiling. Because he certainly wasn’t smiling right now. And she wondered if he ever did.

  “You and I are a lot alike. Both been through some fuckin’ shit. Some unspeakable shit but we both came out on the other side. May never be the same again, but we endured. You’re a fuckin’ survivor, Jazz. That takes a strong fuckin’ woman.”

  No, he was wrong. She shook her head, but that didn’t shake his grip loose. “No. I’m not strong. I... I hid. I ran away from here as soon as I was released from the hospital. I didn’t want to deal with anything I left behind. I hid behind clothes, dyed hair and heavy makeup.” At first, unconsciously. Then, on purpose. “I became someone else, so I didn’t have to deal with who that person was. So, no, I’m not strong.”

  “Here now.”

  She broke his gaze, letting hers slide to the side for a moment. Because they were too close. And he was right, too alike. The only difference being she could only imagine doing what he did to the Warriors, while he actually followed through. “I’m only here to get one more scar covered. The one that’s visible. That’s the only reason I came back.”

  “Don’t believe that.”

  “Well, it’s true. But even when that’s finished, I’ll still be scarred on the inside. I wish I could move past it. I hope to move past it. But I don’t know if I ever can.”

  “They took a lot from you,” he murmured, his gray eyes intense as he swept his thumb back and forth over her cheek.

  In a shaky whisper, she agreed. “They took everything.”

  Mercy shook his head with a frown. “No. Not everything. You’re living, breathing—”

  “Barely.”

  “Bullshit,” he barked sharply. “You got more than most people. Family who loves you. Family who wants you in their life. Family who’ll support you with whatever choices you make. That shit’s everything. You got everything, Jazz. Don’t let those fuckers,” he swept the hand not holding her chin around the room, “define you. Decide how you live. How you love.”

  Jesus. She expected a speech like that to come from Crow, not from a guy like Mercy. Was there more to him than met the eye?

  “By keeping those cuts, aren’t you letting them define you? By keeping their memory alive?” she asked him.

  His gaze slowly roamed the room before meeting hers again. She fought the urge to shiver at how icy his eyes became. “No. Got a mission. Gonna carry it through. Once the mission’s over, it’s over and all this will disappear. But I do need that reminder of what goal I’m working toward. By taking you, Kiki, Jewel, they cemented their future. The moment I saw you... saw Kiki. Then D’s face. Hawk’s. Don’t feel much fuckin’ pain anymore, but I felt theirs to my fuckin’ bones. That shit devastated them. Fuckin’ rocked them to the core.”

  Diesel’s reaction the other day at Crow’s shop proved how much it affected everyone. And rightly so. To see D almost break down...

  “This was all by D’s order, right? He wants them all go
ne.”

  “He wants them gone, but we don’t do this on the clock. Me, Walker, Steel, Ryder, Hunter, and Brick... All of us. We want to do this.”

  “Do they know you’ve kept those cuts? Does D?”

  Mercy shook his head slightly. “No. Just you. That’s why I’m trusting you to keep this shit to yourself. I’ve kept them to show you. Needed to show you. Wanted to let you know you’re not alone in this shit. Not dealing with this by yourself. We got your six.”

  We got your six.

  What did that mean? She should feel honored, right? Thankful?

  Her gaze skipped around the room once more. What she saw turned her stomach. It didn’t make her feel any better at all. She doubted any one of the owners of those cuts were innocent, but did they all deserve the sentence they were given?

  “Again, hoping you’d stay in town and—” His phone went off and he grabbed it from his hip.

  He scowled as he read the text. He closed his eyes for a second. “Fuck.” When he opened them again, they were pinned on her.

  Did that text have to do with her? “What?”

  “They think you’re snagged. Just put out an alert.”

  “What? Who?” Of course, those questions went ignored, too.

  He turned his back on her and put the phone to his ear. “She’s good. She’s with me.” His shoulders jerked and he quickly pulled the phone away from his ear. Even though he didn’t have the speaker on, Jazz could hear a loud roaring coming through the cell phone.

  Uh oh. Sounded a lot like Diesel.

  Once the booming stopped he put the phone back to his ear. “Need to get everyone to stand down. She’s safe, boss. She’s with me.” Mercy shook his head and planted a hand on his hip. “Yeah. Right. Got you.” Then he pulled the phone from his ear. His head dropped forward, and he muttered, “Fuck.” He turned to face her, his eyes as hard as steel. “Gotta get you back. Apparently, leaving your car behind was a big mistake.”

  “My car’s been sitting there for the last few days.”

  “Yeah, well, seems as though Momma Bear called fuckin’ Crow to see how he likes your hair. Said she dropped you off at the shop.”

  “And now they think I’m missing...”