Merrick: Harlequins MC

by Olivia Stephens

  “I gave you your chance, and now I’m going to fuck you up,” Merrick sneered, stepping in and throwing a leading left jab then followed with a right cross which connected solidly with the side of Blake’s head. Blake staggered back, stunned by the blow. Merrick followed, throwing a hard left right left combination that knocked Blake down.

  Blake tried to recover, kicking backwards then trying to stagger to his feet, but Merrick bore in and hauled him up by the front of his shirt with his left hand. Blake threw a punch to Merrick’s stomach, but the blow was weak, Blake still stunned from Merrick’s four devastating punches.

  Merrick hit him again, a crushing right to the temple which put Blake on the floor again. “That’s for calling Poppy a nigger,” he said as he dropped to his knees astraddle of Blake. Blake put up his hands but Merrick batted them away and drove another hard right into his face, blood spraying from his shattered nose. “That’s for calling her a whore.”

  Blake stopped fighting and covered, trying to shield his face as Merrick drew back his right again, intending to beat him unconscious, then hit him one more time for good measure.

  “No!” Poppy yelled, grabbing his arm. “He’s had enough!”

  Someone started hammering on the door. “Poppy? Are you okay? What’s going on in there? Open the door!” a man’s voice called as they hammered hard at the door again.

  Merrick got to his feet as Poppy pulled on him, trying to drag him away from Blake. Once he was on his feet, she dropped his arm and ran to the door, opening it.

  Merrick spat on Blake. “And that’s for calling me a redneck,” he growled before he grimaced and held is right arm to his body as blood dripped onto the floor.

  “What the fuck?” Taylor asked, pushing his way into the room as several other faces appeared in the doorway. “What the hell happened?’

  “Blake’s drunk! He attacked Merrick!”

  “Oh my God! Someone call an ambulance!” Taylor cried as he knelt at Blake’s side as he struggled to sit up, wiping at his nose. “Merrick! What have you done?”

  “Merrick?” Poppy yelled. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? Blake attacked him! Twice!”

  “But look at his face!” Taylor cried, glancing between Poppy and Blake. “We can’t film with him looking like this! Someone call the cops!”

  Poppy stood, her mouth hanging open. “You’re worried about filming?” she yelled, her fist curling into fists. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m fucking filing charges,” Blake muttered, still wiping his nose. “I didn’t do anything. I come in here to talk to Poppy and this creep attacked me.”

  “That’s not true!” Poppy screamed, outraged Blake was casting blame. “He’s drunk! He came in here and got nasty. Merrick told him to leave and when he didn’t he started to escort him out. That’s when he freaked out!”

  Taylor grimaced and looked at Blake. Merrick had beaten the shit out of him, and this was going to delay production for days. “We’ll let the cops sort it out.”

  ***

  “Thank you, Ms. Landrieu,” Office Penbrooke said, taking her statement. He’d already collected the statements from the two men, but hers was by far the most thorough. Teagle’s stated he’d simply come into talk to Poppy and Capra had jumped him for no reason. Capra’s stated Blake was drunk and had become belligerent and when he’d tried to escort him out, he’d attacked him.

  He finished reading Poppy’s statement and it more or less matched Capra’s. “Do you wish to press charges?” he asked Merrick.

  “What?” Taylor cried. “Merrick beat the crap out of him! It’s Blake who should be pressing charges!”

  Penbrooke pursed his lips and nodded. Sometime people got exactly what they deserved, and from the look of Blake’s face, Merrick must have a punch that would knock down a horse. “I have two statements here which state Mr. Teagle attacked Mr. Capra. In case you haven’t noticed, you can smell the alcohol on him and we already know Mr. Teagle has a bit of a problem with the truth. I think I have a pretty clear picture of what happened here.”

  “What do you mean?” Taylor asked, then looked down at Blake as he sat on the bed.

  “It appears Mr. Teagle filed a false police report. Caused an apparently innocent man to have to spend a couple of nights in our fair town, courtesy of the City of Laredo. We don’t take kindly to that kind of behavior here in Texas, and we don’t like having our time wasted. We would like to have a word with him about it.”

  Taylor continued to stare at Blake. “What have you done?”

  “Nothing. I haven’t done a fucking thing.”

  “You remember the little incident with the gun?” Penbrooke asked Taylor. “Funny thing about that. We didn’t find any prints matching Mr. Harton’s on the gun.”

  “He probably wiped them off,” Blake said sullenly.

  “Maybe. But since he said it wasn’t his gun, and nobody saw it but you, including people who had been standing beside him for over an hour, that kind of weakens your argument, doesn’t it?”

  Taylor looked at Merrick, his eyes pleading. “No. I don’t want to press charges,” Merrick said.

  “I guess we’re done here.” Penbrooke looked at Merrick. “You sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

  “No,” Merrick replied. “Just some cuts and scrapes. The paramedic fixed me up.”

  Penbrooke nodded to Merrick and Poppy, then glared at Blake. “We expect to see you tomorrow at the station.”

  Taylor nodded. “He’ll be there.”

  The moment Penbrooke was out of the room, Poppy whirled on Taylor. “I’ll do my job, but you keep this asshole away from me, understand?” She looked at Blake. “If you come near me again, I’ll tell everyone who will listen exactly what went on here, and if you ever all me a whore or a nigger again, I’ll cut your balls off. Got it?”

  Blake nodded.

  “Get me out of here,” she snarled and stomped out of the room.

  Merrick bent over Blake. “She might not cut your balls off, but I will,” he said softly then gave him a soft pat on the side of the face, causing Blake to jerk his head away. “Sleep well, sunshine.”

  ***

  “Damnit!” Merrick muttered as he slipped out of his colors, his face twisting in pain. His arm and back hurt like a mother-fucker.

  “Are you okay?” Poppy asked as she helped him out of his jacket.

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t act okay.”

  “He didn’t put a finger on me, but that damn vase!”

  “Let me see,” she said as she helped him out of his shirt. There were no new cuts on his back, but he’d landed on the shard in the same place he’d previously cut his back, and the area around the cut was already beginning to bruise and swell.

  “Your poor back,” she said, her mouth pulling down. She then held his arm up so she could see. The cut on his arm wasn’t large, but it was deep, and the bandage the paramedic had put on it already had a spot of blood on it from where it had soaked through. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “This is all my fault.”

  “Don’t!” he said sharply. “Don’t even think shit like that. This isn’t your fault, it’s that fucking Blake’s fault.” He tipped her eyes up to look at his. “I know you left coast types think Texans are nothing but a bunch of knuckle dragging Neanderthals, but we’re not. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met and the color of your skin makes you more beautiful still. You’re nothing like I thought you were when I first met you. You’re not only beautiful on the outside, but you’re beautiful on the inside, as well. Blake was way out of line saying what he did, and it was my pleasure teaching him some manners.” He smiled at her as her eyes filled with tears. “We don’t cotton to men treating our fillies like that,” he said, laying on the Texas twang.

  She sniffed out a laugh and wiped her eyes. “Am I your filly?”

  He kissed her softly on the lips. “Starting to be.” He kissed her softly again then pulled back with a small s
mile. “But I don’t think I’m in any shape to be riding you tonight.”

  She stared at him a moment then smiled, laying her head against his chest. She was struggling to hold her tears, touched by not only his words but his actions. She’d seen his eyes and face go hard when Blake called her names, and he’d beaten the shit out of him for the insult. She thought she had thick skin, but she was still gratified Merrick had kicked the shit out of him for saying it.

  She sniffed then nodded her head against his chest. “That’s okay. I think I’d rather you just hold me anyway.”

  He tipped her head up and smiled at her. “It’ll be my pleasure, little lady,” once again turning on the Texas accent. He held her eyes until she smiled. “There, that’s what I want to see,” he said, his voice back too normal before he softly took her lips in a slow and gentle kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  With only four hours of sleep, getting Poppy to the set by seven had been a task. Word had spread about what happened last night and it amused him that most of the crew was more upset with Blake for calling Poppy a nigger than they were with him for nearly sending an innocent man to prison.

  It was going to be a short filming day. They were going to shoot only Poppy’s scenes, using a stand in for Blake since he was busy at the police station and Merrick had rearranged his face the night before.

  Merrick was manning the barricades when the message from Abana arrived. In the past week, the crowds had dwindled and become more respectful, especially during the week. They knew the rules and generally followed them, so the Harlequins were down to only eight men, including himself, maintaining crowd control.

  My business in Corpus Christie is complete. Your contact name is Richard Dinryder. Please report progress of meeting, the message read.

  Merrick smiled. Will setup meeting and report progress in a few days, he replied, then archived the message so he didn’t forget the name. Having the Corpse Killers taken care of was one less thing he had to worry about.

  He hadn’t forgotten what he’d done, what his club had done, but that was behind them now and he sincerely hoped it would be thirty more years before his club had to bloody their hands like that again.

  He looked up from his phone, checking the section of the barricade he was responsible for. Nothing seemed out of place so he began to slowly walk down the line, displaying the colors so to speak, but also because he hated just standing.

  “Hey! Hey, you, motorcycle guy!” a voice called, a voice he recognized. He smiled and paused as Charlie forced himself to the front of the barricade.

  “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  “Yeah, well, I thought about leaving. I’m not all that impressed with Texas, I have to tell you.”

  Merrick chuckled. “Don’t forget, all your problems came from over there,” he said as he jerked his thumb back toward the production crew. “If you’re honest with yourself, you know brought some of your problems on yourself.”

  Charlie looked down. “Okay, yeah. I can admit that. Listen, I want to tell you thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “They told me you came forward and defended me. It was you, right? They only told me it was one of the security people.”

  Merrick grinned. “Yeah, it was me.”

  “Why?”

  He chuckled. “Everybody seems so surprised it rankled me you might go to jail for something you didn’t do.”

  Charlie grinned. “Did Poppy get the Oscar?”

  Merrick chuckled again. “After all you went through, that’s what you’re worried about?” Charlie smiled and shrugged. “It’s in her room on a table where she can see it.”

  “Thank you. My vacation is almost up and I’m going to be leaving for home in a couple of days, but I wanted to say thanks for helping me out. If you ever get to Pueblo, look me up. I’ll buy you dinner. You can reach me through the allaboutpoppy website.”

  Merrick smiled. “I’ll do that.”

  “Please tell Poppy thank you again for the autograph and the photos. I got my book back, but the photos disappeared.”

  “The cops took your photos? Those thieving bastards.”

  “I don’t know where they are. I may have lost them when Blake jumped on me. I don’t remember seeing them after that.”

  “Wait here,” Merrick said then turned on his toe and walked away.

  “Cut! Next scene,” Will said.

  “Can I borrow Poppy for a moment?” Merrick asked.

  “Sure. It’ll take us a half-hour to move the cameras and setup for the next scene.”

  “Thanks.” When Poppy glanced at him and smiled, he waved her over.

  “What’s up?”

  “Charlie’s here. He lost the photos you signed for him. Would you mind doing another set for him. I feel kind of bad for the guy with all he’s been through.

  She smiled. “I feel bad for him, too. Sure. In fact, I’ll take them to him myself.” Poppy moved to the table where all the passes and publicity materials were kept and dug out all the photos of her, seven in total instead of the three she’d signed before. One was a generic one of her looking seductive, wearing a sweater and jeans that showed off her curves to perfection, another was a close up of her face as she smiled at the camera as if she had a secret, the three of her in uniform she’d given him before. She also included one of her and Danielle and another of her and Robert. He didn’t miss she didn’t include the one of her and Blake. She quickly signed each photo with the marker that stayed on the table and smiled at him.

  “Where is he?”

  Merrick grinned. Charlie was going to shit himself. “Right his way.”

  “Are you Charlie?” Poppy asked.

  “Yes,” Charlie said, his eyes huge behind his glasses.

  “Here you go,” Poppy said, handing the photos over as the rest of the crowd looked on. “I want to thank you for the allaboutpoppy site. Seriously. There are some creepy ones out there, but yours isn’t one of them, so thank you for that.” She grinned at him. “How about after the move wraps, I do a quick ten or fifteen minute phone interview for you?”

  Merrick had to look away to hide his smile as Charlie grasped for something to say. “Thank you, Ms. Landrieu,” he finally said very formally. “I’m sure those who follow you on my site would enjoy hearing anything you have to say.”

  “Call me Poppy.”

  Charlie beamed. “Thank you, Poppy. Would you mind if I took a photo?” he asked, holding up his camera.

  “Not at all,” she said. “In fact...Merrick, can you help us out here?” She held out her hand and Charlie handed her his camera. She passed it to Merrick then held out her hand again. “Right over here,” she said. She pulled him a few feet from the barricade then turned him so his back was to the production. She stepped up beside him and beamed as Merrick snapped three photos, Charlie’s face about to spit from his smile.

  “There you go, Charlie,” Merrick said handing him his camera.

  “Thank you so much, uh, Poppy! This has meant a lot to me! I can’t wait to write about it on my blog!”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for it,” Poppy said, then gave him a cheery wave.

  “You just made his year,” Merrick said softly as they walked toward the production crew.

  “Yeah I did, didn’t I?” she grinned. “I figure it’s the least I could do after what happened. And you know what? I felt good doing it.”

  Merrick grinned but said nothing.

  ***

  The next four days were uneventful. Blake had apologized, blaming everything on being drunk, but nobody was buying it. Blake couldn’t work for two days, then refused to work for two more. It made for short days for Poppy as they shot around him, which suited him fine. That left more time for them to spend together and he’d spent some of their time showing her around his city.

  They were riding through the late evening, and Poppy smiled as the night air flowed over her skin. Merrick had just treated her to the best meal she’d had yet
, and she couldn’t stop smiling. It was Mexican, but unlike any she’d ever had before. Merrick had explained how the meal was “traditional” Mexican food as opposed to the Tex-Mex most people associated with Mexican food. But better than the meal was the company.

  He’d surprised her yet again, speaking with the wait staff in what sounded like flawless Spanish. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised considering Laredo was a border town, but it was another thing which added depth to him. When she’d first met him, she’d thought he was the stereotypical redneck, then a biker, but there was so much more to him than that.