by Laura Day
Honestly, the beginning of our relationship was boring as hell. Ricky hadn't been a bad guy when we first got together, but there were warning signs I should have seen. But because of my age and inexperience, I missed them all. Ricky tended to get aggressive with others when he'd had a few too many drinks. Although, he never turned that anger and aggressiveness on me. Not at first, anyway. He'd have a little too much, get into a fight with some guys, and come to me all beat up and bloody. It was a staple of our weekends.
While he thought he was a tough guy, Ricky often lost the fights he picked, and I'd be forced to tend to his wounds – which only served to make him upset all over again. He'd tell me, “I hate you seeing me like this,” and while I wanted to think it had more to do with him being ashamed of his temper, I knew it was because he hated looking weak in front of me.
And when he kept losing fights, which was more often than not, he would get angrier and less responsive to me for caring.
“But it wasn't until we were dating for about ten months that I first saw that rage turn toward me,” I continued on, still remembering the exact moment like it was yesterday. “We were at a bar together, fake ID's and shit, and some guy hit on me – an out-of-towner. Ricky lost his shit and started a fight with the guy. But the out-of-towner was a lot bigger than Ricky. Plus, he had more friends with him. I had stopped him before he got his skull caved in, pulled him away and told him we were leaving. The look in his eye at that moment scared the shit out of me. I remember he turned, his eyes furious, as he said, 'Why in the fuck are you protecting them?' In actuality, I was protecting him, but he couldn't see it. He didn't believe me. Later on that night, he gave me my first black eye and busted my lip. He said he was too drunk to remember, and that he thought I was the other guy at the bar – and stupidly, I believed him. Later on, he’d apologized in a million different ways and promised it would never happen again – the same shit all abusers say.”
Mercer watched me as I spoke, just listening. At first, I feared he wasn't really listening at all, and thought that maybe he was just placating me. But then he gripped my hand tightly when I mentioned the part about Ricky giving me a black eye, and saw the rage in his expression.
And it would only get worse as I told him how our relationship progressed and the beatings got worse. Mercer's expression grew grimmer as I told him about all of the apologies and promises to quit drinking Ricky had made. Promises he broke as quickly as he'd made them, of course.
“Wanna know what finally made me leave?” I asked Mercer, feeling like I might choke on the words. “That baby girl right there. When I was pregnant, I thought I might be trapped, forever. I thought this was it, Ricky had me, and there was no way I could leave with his child. I never thought I'd be able to handle being a single mother. But I discovered that with Ricky, I was already a single mother, and if I didn't leave, Laila might grow up without a mom at all. Considering the monster Ricky had become, there was no way I was going to leave her with him.”
A wave of emotion came crashed over me, and I couldn't hold it in check. I let out a sob, and my chest heaved as I buried my face into Mercer's jacket, trying to calm myself down.
“Laila is just fine,” he whispered, soothing me by stroking my head. “And so are you. She's not going to grow up without a mother. I can promise you that, Val.”
“But she almost did, Mercer. She almost did. I thought, for the briefest of moments that, after one night Ricky had given me a particularly vicious beating, I might end up dead. Even worse than that, I thought that maybe it would be the best thing for all of us,” I said softly. “But one night, while Ricky was passed out on the couch after drinking way too much and then beating on me, Laila cried out for me. I was pretty sure I had a nasty concussion and hadn't gotten any medical treatment for it. I was dizzy and sick – the whole room felt like it was spinning around me. I had just laid in the bed, hoping it was the end. But when I heard Laila, I climbed out of my bed, threw up, and made my way to my little girl. When I looked down into her eyes – that's when I knew I had to get out before he killed me. I knew I couldn't leave her alone with someone who wouldn't care for her. Or worse – someone who might hurt her like he'd hurt me. But yeah, for a while there, I wanted to die. Thought it would be for the best.”
Mercer gripped my shoulder gently and kept me facing him, looking into my eyes as he spoke, “But you didn't, Val. Stop focusing on what could have happened, because it didn't. Thinking about things that didn't happen is irrelevant and not worth you getting this worked up about. It sure as hell isn't helping that little girl.”
“But he's still out there, Mercer,” I said, my eyes roaming around, looking for the source of my unease but coming up empty. “He's trying to find me. What if he manages to figure out where I've gone? What if he shows up on my doorstep one day? What am I going to do then?”
“He won't,” he said, pulling me close again. “Trust me, he won't. But even if for some reason, he somehow manages to, I won't let him hurt you – or Laila – ever again. You have my word on that. I promise you, Val.”
Ricky had made plenty of promises to never let anything hurt me too – and that had gotten me exactly nowhere. If anything, it had gotten me a lot of bumps and bruises. But Mercer, I could tell he was different. There was sincerity in his voice that was undeniable. I knew he meant it when he said he'd protect me, but I had to wonder – why? Why me? He didn't know anything about me the night he'd offered to keep me safe. And he certainly didn't really know me all that much better now.
Another question that continued to plague me was – how had he known that I was in danger and needed protection in the first place?
It was about time we had a conversation about that very subject, but as Mercer's lips found mine, I was silenced. My hands rested on his chest, and I felt his heart beating underneath my palms. It was strong and steady – much like the man himself. He kissed me long and hard. It was a kiss full of heat, intensity, and passion, his tongue sliding past my lips and literally stealing my breath away.
I gripped his shirt and kissed him back, unable to resist the feeling of his lips. His hands stroked my cheek, holding my face in place, but with a gentle touch. Habit made me reach for his belt buckle – after all, that's what all men wanted, right? A man like Mercer – a man of fire, strength, and lust – wanted to get laid. Besides, it was about time I thanked him for everything he'd done, but deep down, it was more than a simple show of appreciation. The fire between my thighs made it obvious that I also wanted him. I wanted him in the worst way possible, and my hands furiously worked to get him undressed.
“No,” he said, pulling our faces apart. “No, Val, it's okay. You don't have to – ”
“I'm not a child, Mercer,” I whispered, dotting his neck with kisses. “So stop treating me like one.”
He grabbed my head and forced me to look him in the eye as he searched my face. Licking my lips, my heart thundered, and my pussy yearning for him.
“I know that now,” he said, yanking my head back.
Our mouths united again, and this time, Mercer didn't stop me as I reached for his belt. He pushed me down on the couch and pressed his body against mine. My legs spread for him, and I felt his erection pushing against his jeans as I fumbled with his zipper.
“Please,” I muttered to myself, begging the zipper to cooperate.
My body ached with need; I could feel my panties getting wet just thinking about being with Mercer again. About having him inside of me again. This time, though, there would be no doubt about his motives. He was protecting me – but why? I may never know his true reasoning for it, but I took it to mean that he did it because he cared. Or at least, he liked me enough to save me.
Mercer kissed my neck, nibbling my skin as he worked his way down. His hands cupped my breasts while his tongue slid along my collarbone. I gasped with relief when his zipper finally slid down. My hand moved quickly, sliding into his jeans and then his boxers, where I grasped his cock. Mercer's eyes roll
ed back into his head as I stroked him, my tiny hand barely able to wrap around its girth.
“Fuck yeah,” he growled as I jacked him off, watching his face contort into an expression of pleasure. He gazed at me; I just knew he couldn't hide the fact that he wanted to be inside of me every bit as badly as I wanted him inside of me.
I knew we'd need to be quiet in order not to wake up Laila, but there was a big part of me that didn't want to be quiet. I wanted to fuck this man with everything in me. I wanted to scream, yell, scratch and claw up his body. I wanted to be noisy and wild, but if Laila woke up, we'd be having no fun at all.
Mercer moved away from me. He stood up and dropped his pants, keeping eye contact with me the whole time. I stared at him from the couch, my eyes finally able to see him in the well-lit room. If I thought he was marvelous before – well – he blew me away, even more, this time.
I sat up and moved my mouth toward his cock, but he pushed me back.
“No, you stay down,” he ordered, dropping to his knees.
Before I could say another word, my eyes shot open. Mercer took my clit between his lips and sucked. A feeling almost like pain – but pain tinged with pleasure – rolled over my entire body. It was amazing. Mercer continued with his tongue, flicking and spreading me open with it. He plunged his tongue deeper. Faster. My body shuddered and quivered.
I bit back a cry, trying to keep my voice down, but he continued to lick and suck, making me momentarily forgot where I was and why I needed to remain silent.
It was Mercer who placed his fingers to my lips, “Shhh,” he said, smiling as he lifted his face up from between my legs just long enough to speak. “Don't want to wake the baby.”
Seeing my juices glistening all over his face almost drove me insane, but he was right. I couldn't wake Laila. I bit my own hand as he worked more of his magic on me, bringing me to the edge again and again.
“Please, please,” I murmured, thrusting my body up toward his mouth. “Finish me off, Mercer. Please.”
With one flick of his tongue in just the right spot, spasm after spasm rushed through my body, causing me to buck wildly against his mouth. I pressed his head down against my pussy, trying to urge him to slide his tongue deeper inside of me.
I had no control anymore; my body did what it wanted to in response to the euphoric sensations pulsating through me.
Before I even stopped climaxing, Mercer was moving me like I was a rag doll completely under his power – and I supposed that I was. My body still spasmed as he pulled me up and flipped me over onto my belly. I looked back at him as I hung over the side of the couch with my ass in the air. Mercer grinned and pushed my head down, burying my face in the pillows. A moment later, I was glad he did as I moaned wildly when he shoved his long, thick cock deep into me.
His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh, as he thrust again with no warning, no time for me to get used to his size. He stretched me open, filling me up as he let out a guttural growl. It was a sound of release. The sound of a man who'd been holding it in for too long and was finally getting exactly what he wanted.
Mercer pulled my head up by my hair roughly as he shoved himself deeper, again and again. The feeling of being stretched open and pounded made my entire body go limp, convulsing with pleasure as together we became one.
Mercer fucked me hard like a man who'd been denied it for too long. He seemed to devour and savor every bit of me, as much as a starving man who'd been led to a table mounted with food. How long had it been since we'd fucked last? It hadn't been all that long ago, but from the determination in his movements, the desperation coming from his body, it felt like it had been ages.
And neither one of us would last long at this rate.
Mercer groaned as my pussy clenched around his shaft, an orgasm ripping through me once more. I still tried to remain quiet – desperately trying to keep from waking Laila – but it was useless. I screamed, thrashing wildly until Mercer let go of my hair. My head fell forward, and again, I found the pillow and bit down onto it. Mercer also appeared on the verge of losing it; I could tell from the grip on my hips. His nails were drawing furrows that stung my skin, and his breathing was ragged, turning into grunts as he quickened his pace.
I could tell that he was close – so very close – to spilling his seed inside of me. I clamped my vaginal muscles around him as tight as I could go, and that was it. One long, deep thrust and it was over. Mercer groaned, shuddered, and the warmth spilled from his cock.
As my body pulsed, I listened for any sign that we'd woken up the baby. I'd had the foresight to close the door to the bedroom, and thankfully, that seemed to have been enough. Laila was a deep sleeper too – a condition helped thanks to the fact that we lived in a noisy hotel with paper-thin walls.
Mercer slipped out of me, and as he did, the warm, sticky cum followed, leaving a wet spot on the nice white couch. But if he cared that we'd stained his sofa, it didn't show. He helped me up and held me in his arms as we cuddled together on the couch. Smiling and satisfied, I fell into a nice, relaxed state, and knew I’d soon drift off to sleep. In his arms, I felt safe for the first time in a long time.
I didn't have to worry about my daughter, or myself, and for that, I was eternally grateful.
Chapter Twenty Five
Mercer
Smoke and ass – that's what the clubhouse smelled like. As I sat down across from Bates, I watched the cigarette smoke swirl around his face. It was a very dramatic pose. The stench in the clubhouse was something I couldn't handle anymore, not since I'd kicked the habit years ago, but I just had to suck it up and deal.
Bates had called the meeting – just him and me. The clubhouse bar was empty, meaning he'd sent everyone away so there wouldn’t be any interference or drama. Or witnesses if he was about to pop me. The room was eerily quiet as he snuffed out his cigarette with a shake of his head.
“Man, I was counting on you for this,” he began. “But you went and fucked it all up.”
“I'm still on it,” I said, not looking away as he glared at me. “I promise you, man – ”
“No, you're not on it, Mercer. Not anymore.”
“You're taking me off?” I almost shouted. “What the fuck? I told you, I got this – ”
“Do you?” Bates asked, lighting up another cancer stick. “Because from where I'm sitting, nothin' is getting done and I need that cash.”
“I'll get it done,” I repeated. “Have I ever let you down before?”
That was a tricky question given the fact that Bates had never asked me to do a job like this before. I'd run guns, drugs, and fought and killed some of our rivals to protect him and the MC. I had done a million different things at his command. He was my club president, and I was his right-hand man, but to kill an innocent girl like that? It was the first time I'd ever refused to do exactly as he'd said.
It was something that hadn't sat right with me from the start. This was the first time The Prophets had ever been asked to do anything like this. Sure, we'd killed people. It was just the nature of the beast when you ran with a motorcycle club. We'd done some shady things. Violent things. But murdering a woman in cold blood? For money? There had to be a line drawn somewhere. There had to be some things we wouldn't do no matter how much money was offered.
“No, but there's always a first time,” he told me.
“It's not going to happen,” I snapped. “I'm getting it done, and you'll have your money. I told you I'd do it. Why are you questioning me all of a sudden?”
I still wasn't sure how to work out this fucking mess, but I had to buy myself more time until I could come up with a plan. Maybe I could get Val out of the state – send her somewhere safe. I had family in Georgia and some friends down in Mexico on the border. Maybe someone could help me get her out of here and set her up somewhere else. But to do that, I needed Bates off my fucking back.
“Next week, Mercer,” Bates said as he took a long drag off his smoke. “I'll give you until t
he end of next week, and if you don't kill the girl – well – you don't need to be reminded of what happens to people who let the club down. Do you?”
No, I didn't need a reminder. If I didn't kill Val – or at least make it look like I did – I'd be on the hit list right alongside her. That's just how it worked. Bates had ordered me to take out a member or two for betraying the club over the years, so I knew exactly what that looked like. And knowing how betrayers were dealt with, losing my kutte was the least of my worries. Although, if truth be told, it will destroy me too. This club had been everything to me for so long – I just hated to see the way it was going under Bates' “leadership.”
Losing my kutte would suck, but losing my life would suck more. I needed to come up with a plan, and I needed to do it soon.
