by Debra Kayn
Wild eyed, blotched face, black running down her cheeks, she held on to the door to stay on her feet. His gut tightened.
She threw herself at him. He caught her, going back on his left foot to brace himself. "Sh. I've got you."
Great sobs erupted from her, though he never heard a sound. He held on to her as her body convulsed, clinging to him. Not wanting her to stay in the room that brought her pain, he picked her up and carried her upstairs to the apartment.
On the couch, he held her to his chest, stroking her head until her body gave up and sagged against him and her breathing only hitched every few breaths. He struggled with his own breathing. He wanted to stomp down her fears until he understood what was going on and fix it.
His need to check up on her after thirteen years and make sure she was doing all right had turned to a craving of needing her in his life. At first to save him from his demons and to prove he'd done something right when he'd failed at every other turn.
Over the months, she'd burned herself into his soul. She was a part of him. Nobody would take her away.
He tangled his fingers in her hair and tilted back her face. Her muscles lax, she became a pliable doll in his arms. His chest filled with rage.
"Talk to me, Desi." He held her gaze, searching for that connection they always retained even when life and emotions got in the way.
Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and moistened her dry lips. "I was so scared I would do the wrong thing and he'd end up killing you."
His grip tightened. "Someone threatened you?"
"No, he was going to kill you." A shiver went through her. "I had to pay him and slide the money under the front door. He wanted me to go back in the office where I couldn't see him."
"Desi, talk." Merk propped her up on his lap. "Who contacted you?"
"I don't even have money in the account to cover the check I wrote, but I had to do it. He said he could see you and he'd shoot you in the head if I didn't." She grabbed on to his beard. "I was afraid he'd try and cash it and find out the check wasn't any good. He told me if I didn't answer the phone in an hour, he'd kill you. I begged him to leave you alone and said I'd give him whatever he wanted. He said to expect another call and hung up before I could ask anything else. Then when he did call back, he made me listen to a story to keep you safe. He described your bike and even knew Cam was with you.”
"You have a club cell phone. Nobody, but me and anyone associated with Moroad knows your number." He gripped her wrists bringing her hands off his face. "Who the fuck called you?"
She shook her head. "He called on the bar phone. I wanted to tell Jacko, but he said he'd kill you if I told anyone."
"God damn it, Desi. I'm not dead, okay?" He shook her arms. "Who called you?"
"Martin," she whispered. "He knew things—"
"Motherfucker." He lifted her off his lap, setting her on the couch, and stood. "I'll kill him."
"No." Desi stood, wobbled, and grabbed the front of his vest. "You can't go out there. I have no idea if he's still in Federal or where he's at."
He held her arms. "Listen to me. I'm going to put a call out to Moroad. I need to make sure you remain safe. No one is going to fuck with you again. Martin is after me, not you. I'll make sure he finds me and I'll deal with him myself."
He let go of her and pulled out his cell. "Stache, I need you to call in the members. I need at least eight brothers at the bar. I need full protection on Desi."
"You've got it. Anything else?" said Stache.
He stared at Desi, the hurt, the exhaustion, the fear in her eyes making him taste blood. "No, the rest I'll handle."
He slipped his phone in his pocket, grabbed Desi's sweatshirt off the corner of the couch, and helped her slip it over her head to stop her shakes. He wanted Martin to pay for contacting Desi and putting fear in her eyes.
Desi lifted his arm, putting his hand flat on her chest. His whole body vibrated, taken back to when Desi first looked to him for help. The innocence in which she'd trusted him stared up at him now. His heart ached.
Martin wanted payback on him for the murders of his two members. He'd misjudged his reaction, and instead Martin went right to the one person who mattered to him and put an unforgiveable hurt on Desi. He'd make the fucker suffer for the pain he'd put Desi through before he put a bullet in Martin's head.
"H-he wanted me to ask you why you came to the bar the night you shot my dad," she whispered. "He said my dad was going to sell me, but that's not the real reason why you were in the basement that night. I don't understand any of this. Why would he lie?"
Merk braced, anger making him deaf to her question. He'd given his word he'd never tell. Her father's actions had nothing to do with an innocent child. Desi deserved to hold on to the good memories of her childhood.
She gazed up at him and her body swayed away from Merk. "Oh my God, Martin didn't lie."
Rocked clear through his body, he stared down at her. Held silent by a promise he'd made to his sister, it'd taken him a long time to keep his word. He'd killed Carlyle, and yet the past refused to remain buried.
"Is it true?" She held on to him, her voice growing stronger. "I know my dad was a mean drunk and I don't miss him, but was he really going to give me to Martin?"
"Sweetheart, don't do this. He's gone." Merk kissed her forehead, feeling his body shake with her.
She arched away from him, refusing to let go of his hand pressed between her breasts. "He said you were keeping a secret from me. He told me to ask you why you came to kill my father."
Merk shook his head. "Drop it, Desi."
"I can't." She inhaled a deep breath. "Don't you see? I have to ask. I have to know. He'll never leave us alone if you don't tell me."
His hand warmed against hers and he stepped away. He couldn't touch her or look at her. He'd changed her life for the better by taking away the threat, and he refused to tell her the truth. She needed to go on thinking her dad's drinking and gambling problem got him killed. She needed to stay strong, keep living for herself, or he'd lose her too.
He'd witnessed what happens when someone breaks the spirit inside a woman. A slow death grabbed ahold, eating away at everything good, leaving nothing for the person to hold on to, no dreams, no laughter, no hope.
He'd never let that happen to Desi. He wouldn't fail this time.
"Martin was right. You're keeping something from me." She brought her hand up to her neck. "You weren't there to save me, were you?"
"Fuck." Merk turned and ran his hand over his chest.
"Please, don't lie to me. I need to know."
He whirled around. "You don't need to know anything. Don't you understand this is what Martin wanted? He wanted to take everything away from you, because he knew hurting you would kill me. Desi...you're the only good thing I've got. I won't let him destroy you."
He held himself perfectly still and yet his mind drifted back to memories burned so deeply within him, he still silently cried out in pain. His hands tightened into fists remembering his promise to Roni. The neglect from his parents and how he'd stepped up and became the parent to his younger sister when no one else was willing to raise them right. He couldn't stop the pain from slashing through his chest, leaving him bleeding.
He'd failed to protect his baby sister, and when she finally broke and told him the truth, he promised to put her nightmares behind her. But, he'd been too late. She suffered for years, alone, until he lost her for good.
Banging interrupted his thoughts. He sucked in air. "That's Moroad. Stay up here. I'll let them in."
He walked to the door, grasping at an excuse to escape.
"Merk?"
He hesitated with his hand on the knob. "What?"
"Will you come back?"
Warmth cracked the bitter anger constricting his chest. His throat closed, and he nodded to buy him time to find his voice. "Yeah, Desi, I'll come back."
Chapter Thirty One
The scrape of chairs downstairs trickled in thr
ough the open door of the apartment. Unable to stop shaking, Desiree walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. She looked down at her hands, trembling and weak. She couldn't focus.
While Martin told his story, she argued every point in her head. Her father would never sell her. For what? Sex? Child labor? She'd been thirteen years old and not even a woman yet.
She'd pushed the disgusting thought out of her head to deal with keeping Merk safe. But, she'd seen Merk flinch when she'd asked him for the truth. He didn't have to say anything. His non-answer spoke for him. Her father gave her away to Martin to spare his own life.
She drank the water, gasped for air, and dropped the cup in the sink. The tinkling dance of glass hitting porcelain reminiscent of her entire life shattering.
Her stomach rebelled. She covered her mouth, gagging for breath. She needed to know everything.
If Merk's reasons for coming to Rail Point Bar had nothing to do with her dad's deal with Reds, why had he come to shoot her father?
"Desi?" said Merk.
She wiped her mouth with her hand and returned to the living room. Instead of going to him, she sat down on the couch.
"The guys are going to stay here tonight. They're bunking down on the floor in the bar."
She clasped her hands together and tucked them between her thighs. "Do you think Martin will try to come here?"
"I don't know." Merk sat down beside her. "Cam's at his house making some phone calls to his contacts. For now, nothing is coming in this building. I don't want you to answer the phone downstairs for the bar. If you need to make a call use the club's cell phone."
"Why would I need to call anyone? You're here."
He put his arm around her and pulled her close to his side. "You won't, but I want you to know in case anything happens."
She yawned. "Can we talk now?"
"I think we've talked enough for today. You need to go to bed." He kissed the top of her head.
"One question, and then I'll go to bed." She arched her back to look at him. "I need to know why you came to the bar the night you murdered my dad."
Merk let his head fall back on the couch and gazed up at the ceiling. "This doesn't have anything to do with you and me. I came to kill your dad and walked into a deal between your dad and Reds. When I figured it all out, that's when I found you. From that moment, my being there was always about protecting you."
"What did my dad do?"
"Fuck," he muttered, running his hand over his face.
"Please, I need the truth, Merk. I'll never be able to get past this knowing you're keeping something from me and killing yourself to protect me. What did my dad do that made you come over here late at night, break into the bar, and shoot him?"
His tormented gaze spoke volumes. "You're asking me to confide in you and the information I have will ruin everything you thought was real. I'd strip your childhood away and leave you asking questions your whole life. Let me protect you and keep that burden off you."
"I already learned my dad was selling me to Martin." She inhaled deeply. "My dad wasn't a good man, and Pop knew that. He protected me. I stayed away from dad, because he drank and he'd push me around when I got in his way. My father already ruined my childhood, Merk. I'm already hurt. Nothing else can hurt me more. Refusing to tell me what I need to know to move on, make a life with you, will eventually eat away at me, and ruin any chance of healing. I love you. Don't keep everything to yourself to protect me. All you're doing is killing yourself and for what? A need to protect me?"
Merk ran his hands over his face, straightened his beard, and studied her. She leaned against him, picked up his hand, and tightly held on to him. Her fears tripled when the unemotional mask came down over his eyes and he stared at nothing in front of him.
"I promised I'd never tell," he said, the words dragged out of his throat in a husky, raw statement. "I don't have much in this life to hold on to, but I do keep my word."
"You have me to hold on to." She squeezed his hand. "You came back to me because you wanted me to look at you. I'm right here, Merk. It hurts me more that you're keeping something from me for my own good. I'm here, because you're here. Not because of the bar, what kind of person my father was, or because you're protecting me. It's you. It's always been you."
He closed his eyes. She brought his hand up and pressed her lips against his rough knuckles. She'd stay strong, because he taught her that time heals all hurt. It was time for someone to show him that tomorrow would be a better day.
Merk opened his eyes, inhaled deeply, and quickly took another breath. "Roni...my sister started using drugs and alcohol in high school and soon that wasn't enough and she got hooked on heroin after she dropped out of school. There was nothing I could do to help her but stand back and watch my sister ruin her life," he whispered.
"Go on," she said.
"A few years went by and Roni hit rock bottom. I took a hard look at her, and barely recognized her as the little sister who tagged my every step. I tried to help her. I even told her I'd put her in rehab, so she could get clean and be happy. She...she told me she'd never be good enough and there was no reason to clean herself of drugs. She didn't believe she deserved a good life."
"Why?" she whispered.
Merk dropped his chin to his chest and stared at her hand holding his. "Because when she was fourteen years old a man raped her. He stole her innocence along with her will to live. She never told anyone and only screamed the truth at me five years later when I found out she was pregnant with Cam's baby and still using drugs. The rape ruined her life. She coped the only way she was able to and that was with drugs, sex, and partying. I finally convinced her to check herself into the hospital to get some help."
Merk's grip on her hand intensified. Tears filled her vision and she kept holding on to him.
"I think she agreed to get help because she wanted to abort the baby. I promised to help her get clean if she told me who raped her. She..." Merk closed his eyes, breathed through his nose, and went back to staring in front of him. "She made me promise never to tell anywhere. I kept my word. I never betrayed her trust, until now. Jerry Carlyle raped my baby sister, killed her spirit, and she lived in hell with an addiction that finally ended up letting her find freedom from the fucked up life she was given."
He let go of her hand. She covered her mouth, muffling her sob, afraid he'd stop if she made a sound. Disgusted that her dad, no matter how lacking he was as a father, would hurt another child in such a permanent way that would forever change her life, she failed to stop the tears from escaping.
What her father had done to Merk's sister was incomprehensible. Her dad ruined more than one person when he violated Roni. Everyone connected to Merk's sister paid for the despicable crime. Merk lost a sister. Jeremy lost a mother.
"I had planned to come to the bar and kill your dad after I dropped Roni off at the hospital, but first I stopped at a bar outside of town to have a drink. I hated everyone who looked at me and lived inside a bottle most of the time. I don't remember much, except taking out my knife and getting in a fight. I took my anger out on a stranger for my part in failing to protect my sister, and almost killed an innocent man. I got arrested that night and spent the next eight years in the state pen for assault with the intent kill."
Her stomach churned. She'd known what he planned to do. "When you got out of prison, you came back to finish the job," she whispered to herself.
His eyes darkened. "Yeah, but I got picked up by the cops a week later and put back in the pen before I could make contact with your dad. I can't even remember what crime I did that time. All I can remember is I spent most of my days looking for Roni, because she'd left Moroad years ago and I heard rumors she was staying with Reds. When I couldn't locate her, I picked up the bottle again, hoping I could find answers. I'm not using alcohol as an excuse. It was easier for me to escape than face what I'd failed to do. I survived in prison, because I had to sober up. Prison kept me safe from destroying myself, so by t
he time I got out again, I headed straight to Rail Point Bar. I wasn't going to fuck up again. Sober and determined, I entered the bar from the back of the building and overheard Jerry Carlyle give his thirteen year old daughter to Martin, who was going to sell you to Los Li and have you shipped to Mexico."
She shook her head, reliving the nightmare. At the time, her fear of being caught made it impossible to understand what the men discussed. She had no idea what they'd planned to do with her.
"Not once have I regretted coming to the bar that night. I saved you. I protected you when I couldn't protect Roni, and I'm a selfish son of a bitch for wanting to make sure you stay in my life and keep looking at me like you believe I'm not a fucking failure. I never wanted you to know. Fuck, you don't deserve to carry your father's crimes in your head, dirtying up every thought."
She'd hid and ran from her dad for years, scared he'd physically hurt her in one of his drunken rages. Even learning the truth behind what her dad planned to do with her seemed unreal. But, nothing, absolutely nothing she'd ever experienced came close to the level of pain coming through Merk's eyes.
Her past and present were contaminated with an ugliness too evil to comprehend. She quivered in recognition of what Merk had done, not only for his sister, but also for her. She couldn't go back and save him from himself, but she could trust him with her future.
"You can stop now," she whispered, crawling up into his lap. "I know enough to—"
He shook his head, his lips almost non-existent in his attempt to keep himself calm. "Don't tell me to leave, Desi. Give me twelve years. I need those years to mean something."
She pulled back. "I'm not asking you to leave, and you can have more than twelve years with me."
His gaze intensified. She cupped his face, tugging on his beard, and forcing him to look at her, not that he'd looked away. "I love you for saving me. I love you for loving your sister and trying to protect her."
He opened his mouth. She put her finger over his lips. "Sh. I'm not done. I love you, because despite your agenda toward me, you came back. You, Merk, are good for me. Nothing else matters, except you're good for me."
