Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)

by M. N. Forgy

  Frank sighs and rolls his eyes. “That will never happen. You can’t even keep a level head if I’m not standing over you. You’d have the club in a blood bath, every connection the club has would be severed. You’re where you’re supposed to be.”

  “And what about her? You killing her?” Cross juts his chin toward me.

  Frank’s hand slowly moves up, and I watch as he rubs his chin, his eyes raking over me. “Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know yet.” He turns on an exhale. “I’m going to lie down before Zeek shows up, keep an eye on her. I don’t care how you do it, just do it.” Frank yanks on his tie again and heads toward the elevator.

  “Oh, that’ll be my pleasure.” Cross chuckles, his eyes sweeping up and down my body. I grimace, and look the other way. I focus on a vase with fake flowers, trying to calm my rapid heartbeat. The need to break down, give up, and cry is overwhelming.

  I need to figure out a way out of here.

  “Tell me, how does it feel to be harboring the DNA of a man who killed your father?” Cross jabs.

  “Tell me, how does it feel to be nothing more than the dog of the Outlaws?” I rebuttal. His face falls as he grits his teeth and then he marches over with haste. I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing, his stubby legs reminding me of Mr. Potato Head walking. His hands sink into my hair, yanking hard. My humor flees as I whimper with pain.

  “I’m going to enjoy ripping you apart.” Lips brush against the shell of my ear. He throws my head forward, the muscles in my neck tensing painfully. “Including that bastard baby.”

  My body strikes with adrenaline, my heart thumping madly in my chest. My eyes burn to cry, but I fight it. I don’t want him to see how badly he affects me.

  I won’t break. I’m strong.

  “Then again, I think caging you in a basement until you pop that child out would be best. Then we can condition the kid—make him, or her, into an animal like the father. But better. One who obeys and knows his or her place.”

  I stare blankly ahead, my mind not really anywhere at the moment. I’d rather die with this baby then ever let that happen.

  Images of Zeek’s face before he kills fill my mind. That hollow look, the way Zeek doesn’t think he’s capable of love or being loved all portrayed on our child’s face flare behind my eyes.

  I don’t want that for Zeek, and I sure as hell don’t want that for a child of mine. My limbs become antsy, my lungs burning to release an emotional scream.

  “An outlaw’s blood, mixed with a sheriff’s. That kid of yours would exhibit some incredible skills.” Cross plops on the couch, his arms outstretched along the back. “Yeah, I guarantee Frank would be on board with that.” He lowers his head, his eyes hooded. “So it looks like you won’t be taking the easy way out.”

  I scream a blood curdling, face reddening, all I have scream. Crying hysterically to the point I can’t even see straight.

  Cross laughs in response to my anguish, hurt, and pain.

  I’m breaking.

  But even as the thought passes through my brain, I know it’s not true. I’m not breaking. It’s too late for that.

  I’m already broken.

  Zeek

  GETTING READY TO HEAD BACK to Vegas I decide to call Felix and give him the heads up, find out if he’s seen Jillian.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m headed back to Vegas now.”

  “About time,” Felix whispers. “You get the Devils to help you take the club back?”

  I swallow, my head throbbing like someone is pounding a fucking drum in there. Looking at Lip I rub at my forehead with my freehand.

  “Yeah, about that. Frank gave me an ultimatum, take the shipment of money from the Mafia and he’ll let Jillian go.” The phone goes silent.

  “But?” Felix knows there’s more. He knows Uncle Frank just as well as I do.

  “We go back to working for Frank.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Felix barks into the phone. “You and I know he’s going to kill her anyway, and after you give him the money you go back to being his bitch! If the Mafia doesn’t come and kill you first!”

  “He’s not getting the money, the Devils are.” I’m trying to explain to him what is going down, but his tone of voice is really starting to piss me off.

  “Have you lost your fucking mind?” He’s angry, shouting like a pissed off teenager. “Who’s not to say the Devils won’t fucking set you up?!”

  “I don’t have a choice right now, Felix. It’s my only option!” I holler back, my patience wearing thin.

  “You do this, and you won’t get the club back ever again, you know that, right? You saving her is playing right back into his hands. You’re picking the fucking cop over your club, again!” He’s still shouting, and it pisses me off more than I already am. I snap. I’m still his fucking president, and he’s obviously forgot his fucking respect before he answered the phone.

  “Felix!” I yell into the phone. “She’s fucking pregnant with my child, and I’m saving her before anything else. You either be my brother and help me save my girl and unborn child, or you bail. You turn your back, portraying your loyalty to me and ending your position as my Vice President. I don’t blame you either way. I’m the one changing the rules…I know that. So step the fuck up and be the right hand I need, or walk the hell away.”

  I hang the phone up, glancing at Lip. My face must look like a fucking kid in a horror house with the way Lip is looking back at me.

  “What’s he so pissed about?”

  “I’m picking saving a cop rather than saving my club.” The words are thick, and falling from my mouth with hesitation. I worked so hard for the club, spilled so much blood to get to where I am. I am putting years worth of goals and dreams at the bottom of the list to save a girl I never should have given a second look at.

  I’m going to save a sheriff.

  I’m going to save my ol’ lady.

  I’m going to save the woman carrying my unborn child.

  So, if Felix walks, fuck him.

  “I got your back, man. I’m in.” He nods his head firmly, and gives my back a friendly slap. The soft look on his face digs deep inside my chest. All I have ever wanted was to have my brother take my side, be here for me, and I for him. A bond. A family. A fucking brother.

  “You sure?” I ask, he owes me nothing and I’m still shocked he and his club want to help me.

  He shrugs. “What’s a brother for if you can’t rely on him to help steal your cop girlfriend back from an insane family member who is part of the Mafia?” I laugh.

  Lowering my head, I rub the back of my neck awkwardly.

  “Thanks, man,” I whisper.

  I take a deep breath, and get a hold of my emotions. I’m starting to feel like a bitch getting all soft over here.

  “So, let’s do this,” Bull adds, blowing smoke through his mouth and nose.

  With that, every member of the Devil’s Dust speaks up, all offering their help.

  I follow the Devil’s Dust out of their club, bulletproof vest in one hand, a nine millimeter and a loaded .45 millimeter in my holster. They all chipped in to make sure my ass was protected, and I still can’t fucking believe it. Looking over my shoulder, waiting for a prank to transpire, or a bullet to hit me in the chest.

  “Why are you doing this for me?” I ask Lip as I clip my vest into place.

  “It’s called brotherhood.” He shrugs, putting on his own vest.

  “You were right, you know.”

  “Right about what?”

  “Not coming back to Vegas with me, that my club was nothing but savages.”

  “Man, I just said that because—”

  “Regardless, you were right. This right here, what you guys are doing for me I’ve never seen it before. In Vegas they would have killed me, but not before laughing in my face when I asked for help. This is…it’s something else.”

  Lip pats me on the back. “Well, it’s not too late to switch things around.”

&nbs
p; I nod. He’s right, if there’s any time to show my boys what a brotherhood should be and become the fucking president I know I can be, it’s now.

  Heading toward the bikes, Shadow points to the SUV.

  “You two should take the SUV, we might need the extra muscle if we’re taking down a car with millions of dollars,” he suggests.

  Swallowing hard, I head toward the black SUV with Lip as the rest of the Devils head towards their bikes. Adrenaline pounds through my veins that tonight is going to get messy.

  Lip jumps in the driver’s side and I give them directions before we speed toward Vegas.

  The whole time I’m checking my gun, making sure it’s loaded, and pulling on my bulletproof vest anxiously.

  “You okay?” Lip questions.

  Looking out the window I blow out a nervous breath. “Does it look like I’m okay?”

  “Just try to relax, you can raise hell when you get there.” I nod my head in agreement, because raise hell is exactly what I plan to do.

  “Give me the rundown, let me know what to expect. Where is the car with the money and shit?”

  “There will be a black sedan with at least three men in it, and they’ll be armed to the teeth. They arrive at the back entrance where the armored truck takes the money for deposit, one of the men who helps load the trucks will take the marked bags and hand them off to one of the men driving the sedan. The pick-up is always on schedule…never late. What is today?” Taking my eyes from the window I look at Lip.

  “Friday.”

  “The truck will do its pick up right before the rush then, eight PM.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “When I was sixteen I was the one loading the trucks. Dad made me.”

  Lip’s eyes flick between the road and me. “Seriously? If you had gotten caught—”

  “He would have killed me, I know.”

  Lip takes in a staggered breath. “That’s not what I was going to say, I was going to say you would’ve done hard time.”

  Trailing my gaze from the road to Lip, I pin him with a serious stare. “There’s more frightening things in life than doing hard time, it’s called family.”

  Lip looks at the clock on the dashboard, the engine roaring with more acceleration.

  “We’ll be there in a couple of hours, we’ll get the money, and then we’ll get your woman.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Zeek

  PULLING INTO VEGAS, I point at Uncle Frank’s casino. “That’s it.”

  “So that is Uncle Frank’s famous Sin Casino?” Lip leans forward eyeing the building that is illuminated in red.

  “Yep, that’s all his.”

  The armored truck catches my attention pulling into the parking lot of the casino, and turns to the point of pickup.

  “Right on time,” I say out loud, my palms twitching for the excitement ahead.

  My phone rings, catching my attention.

  “I’m in. Where do you want us?” Felix informs. Relief floods me that he has my back. I need him, and I don’t say that about many people in my life.

  “When the sedan leaves, follow it.”

  “Got it.”

  The armored truck pulls out of the lot first, heading left as the sleek looking sedan turns right.

  “You were right,” Lip sounds shocked. Scowling, I glance at him. Did he think I was lying?

  Putting the SUV in drive, Lip follows the sedan. We stay back about a half mile making sure not to be seen. Motorcycles zip beside us. Looking out the window, I find my boys. Machete smiling and flipping me off.

  “Yours?” Lip questions.

  “Yeah, they’d be mine.”

  The sedan pulls onto a side road that leads to the freeway. The hairs on the back of my neck raise. Nobody to see the altercation go down, it’s now or never.

  “Now.” The words come out husky, and my eyes hood as I cock my gun.

  Rolling down my window, I pull my gun out and aim it at the right back tire. Pulling the trigger, a bullet bites into the rubber, making the tire blow. The car slows, and a man with a black hat sticks his head out the window, blowing his hat right off. Tugging himself fully out of the window, he pulls out a Colt AR 15.

  “Oh fuck!” I holler, darting back into the car.

  Bullets spray across the windshield, tearing into the seats and headliner. Chunks of glass spraying back toward my arms and face. Rage, pure sweet fucking rage races through my limbs as I duck for cover.

  “Jesus Christ!” Lip shouts and hunches under the steering wheel. He peers up over the wheel, and slams on the accelerator as we race forward.

  “I’m going to fucking kill every one of them!” I holler above the chaos, pulling my .45 from my holster.

  “Hold on!” Lip instructs.

  Ignoring him I aim at the car just as Lip clips the back bumper of the sedan. I’m thrown forward, my head connecting with part of the windshield, and my shoulder hitting the dash. The man with the Colt AR 15 is nearly thrown from the window, as the car spins out of control before coming to an abrupt stop.

  “What the fuck?!” I yell. My forehead stings and my shoulder burns. Pressing my fingers to my hairline I find blood. Not a lot, but enough for me to glare at Lip.

  “What? I said hold on.”

  The Devil’s Dust and the Outlaws circle the car, weapons aimed as they get off their bikes. It looks like a fucking SWAT team, but it’s worse, it’s criminals without law.

  Stepping out of the car, I pull both my guns out and aim them at the passenger door. The men begin to emerge from the car, guns in hand and every single man standing with leather on their backs open fire.

  Not giving them a chance to return fire, we riddle their bodies with bullets.

  They fall to the desert floor, blood seeping through their clothes, the black sedan sporting bullet holes from one end to the other.

  “Jesus Christ, that was awesome!” Machete yells, slapping me on the back in excitement.

  “You didn’t have a fucking Colt AR 15 shooting at you!” I respond wide-eyed, not sure where the excitement was in that. He pats my shoulder and jogs toward the end of the car. He’s fucking nuts.

  We head toward the sedan and Bobby pops the trunk.

  Bull whistles eyeing the goods. Stepping around the back of the car I see what has him in awe. There are at least thirteen duffle bags sitting in the trunk.

  Machete unzips one and fingers the cash. “Jesus,” he whispers.

  “You weren’t lying.” Bull rubs his temple with his gun.

  Grabbing one of the duffle bags I haul it from the trunk and push it into Bull’s chest. “You got your money, now we get my woman.”

  “Bobby, empty these bags, and stuff them,” Bull orders.

  “With what?” Bobby looks at him quizzically.

  “Fuck if I care.”

  “Oh, what about Monopoly money?” His eyes go bright, and I can’t help but scoff.

  “Don’t do that,” Shadow laughs half serious.

  “I’d love to see their reaction though,” Bobby chuckles.

  “They won’t have time to react before they’re dead,” Bull informs casually. I like the way this man thinks. “We will get these filled to look like they’re packing the green, and then we’ll set up a drop. When Frank’s men leave for the pickup, you attack him.”

  “He won’t be protected, I like it.” Felix nods approvingly, standing by my side.

  “Call him, set the drop,” Bull insists.

  Jillian

  SWEAT TRICKLES DOWN MY BACK, my stomach growling with the need to eat. I’m so tired, mentally and physically.

  “Zeek just called,” Frank states, walking into the room. “Just set up the drop, send our men and pick it up.”

  Cross snorts. “I’ll send the boys to make sure they give us everything.”

  “Send them all, I don’t want any surprises,” Frank insists.

  “You, however, I’m going to have to set an example for my nephew, and that involv
es you I’m afraid. When he arrives, I’m going to take your life. I’m going to squeeze every single ounce of air out of your lungs until your heart slows down and your body begs for it. Then, and only then, when he realizes I am who controls his very existence will I end your filthy fucking life and that pig you’re carrying.”

  Tears rip from my eyes as I sob, praying Zeek has a plan when he arrives. I want to be strong, but being tied to chair and having your life and unborn child’s threatened…all you can do is cry and hope.

  “About that, Frank, I had an idea when you were away. What if we keep her, hide her away somewhere and let Zeek think we took her life. She’ll be ours until she gives birth. We can raise that bastard baby into the loyal leader we need. I know the place, and the people to put this kind of thing together.”

  Frank nods, his lips twisting into approval. “See, that is why I need you by my side, Cross. Only you can think of that kind of shit. I love it.” He laughs like the Devil reincarnated. “He won’t even know she’s alive. She’ll be right under his nose the whole time, right up until she bears that child and we make it the ultimate weapon!”

  A sound zips from the window, catching everyone’s attention. Suddenly a vase sitting on the counter explodes. Frank’s eyes furrow as he stands fully. “What the fuck was that?” Cross strides toward the broken vase and bends down.

  “It’s a shell.” Their eyes widen in fear as he yells out. “SNIPER!” Cross’s voice booms through the suite just as another bullet crashes through the window and lodges into a cabinet. “Get the fuck down and take cover!” He continues to yell, another bullet whistles in passing, tearing into the Saran Wrap and my bicep.

  Closing my eyes, I hold in a cry of pain. Blood oozes down my arm, warm and thick, burning like a bitch. I’ve got to get out of sight or I’m going to be hit again. Rocking myself I push the stool over, and I crash to the floor hard. My shoulder roaring with pain from the impact as I bite down on my lip to muffle my scream.

  Everything goes silent, the only noise is my harsh breathing.

  Finally, after a few seconds that feel like minutes, they stop. Everything is silent and still.