Mercy's Angels Box Set (Mercy's Angel #1-3)

by Kirsty Dallas

  “Wow,” Emily wondered out loud. “That felt different.” Her laughter had snuck up on her and she seemed just as surprised as I was.

  “I want you again,” I confessed. Emily’s eyes widened. “Don’t worry, as much as I want you, I’m not going to jump you again right now. You’re going to eat then sleep. Tomorrow we’ll figure out what to do about Jonas.”

  “And then you will jump my bones?” she asked, putting her pale blue eyes on my dark ones.

  “If I manage to wait that long,” I growled, kissing her. I was teetering dangerously close to using the “L” word. This had to be love—this need, this possessive want that went beyond all rational thought. It could so easily slip from my lips—I love you—but I didn’t want to scare her away. One day at a time. Soon, I would tell her just how very much I loved her.

  ***

  Bomber called me down from the rooftop a little before dawn. Emily was still asleep, buried under a blanket on the couch. My dick twitched as I peered into the room to check on her. Yep, we most definitely needed a new couch. Soon enough I was sitting in front of my desk, Sam on the other side in front of the computer. Bomber stood at my back.

  “Play it again,” I murmured.

  Sam clicked the keys and a voice filled the room.

  “No more playing, Mr. Montgomery. I have something you want, you have something I want. The lovely Mercy has till exactly 0600 hours for you to deliver my pet to Coats and Collars. If she is not at the location at that time, Ms. Carter will disappear. Most of my buyers prefer youthful girls, but I know of a man who would be happy to take her off my hands. I know you fucked my pet, Mr. Montgomery; you’ll be lucky if I don’t put a bullet in your head for such an offence. Men pay top dollar to fuck those holes.” The recording when silent. It had been sent via an email over half an hour ago. Glancing at my watch it was already 5:45 a.m. We were out of time.

  “We have to go,” said Bomber.

  “He’ll kill Emily.”

  “He’ll kill Mercy,” he argued.

  “You think I don’t know that!” I growled, trying to keep my temper in check.

  “We revert to the original plan. We give him Em, then we follow and track her,” Sam interceded.

  “That wasn’t a plan. It was no more than an idea and a ridiculous one at that,” I snapped, my temper finally frayed.

  “Boss, we don’t have any other choice. Dillon and Parker are covering the only way in and out of Claymont. Bomber, Gabbie and Drew will have eyes on Em at all times. You make the delivery. We’ve got the tracker in her; we won’t lose her.” Sam’s confidence didn’t make me feel any better about the plan. Sighing, knowing there wasn’t any way I could avoid it, I stood and ran a hand through my tangled hair.

  “Fuck,” I snarled as I walked out of the office. My head was racing through every possible outcome as I moved down the short hall and out into the reception area. The empty couch shocked me into silence. Blinking once, twice, I looked around the room in search of Em.

  “Oh, Shit,” murmured Bomber at my back.

  Drew and Gabbie stepped off the elevator, their guns holstered, looking far too casual for what was about to go down. Pushing past Bomber I checked the bathroom and the other offices, before racing back into the reception area.

  “Damn it, she left didn’t she?” Gabbie grimaced.

  Running toward the door that led to a stairwell and onto the street, I took the stairs two at a time. Bomber’s voice was loud at my back, organizing the team, throwing orders around before joining me on the street front. The doorway had been partly open and when I’d thrown it open it had been with such force it smashed against the wall and rattled the glass window to our side. I knew where Coats and Collars was—we had already mapped out the entire area and every street and alleyway between here and there. My heart pounded hard in my chest as I tore down the street and around a corner. Another block and we would be there. Bomber was at my back; I could hear his heavy footsteps shadowing mine. The streets were all but empty this time of the day. My own heartbeat and heavy breathing were the only sounds I could hear. As I took the last corner, my feet slipped on the ice and I gripped the wall to remain upright. My heart lurched at the sight ahead of me. On the concrete sidewalk, directly in front of Coats and Collars, sat Mercy. Her hands bound behind her back, her mouth gagged. Motherfucker! I wanted to roar with the injustice of it.

  “They couldn’t have gone far,” said Bomber calmly beside me as we ran across the street to Mercy. Sliding to my knees I ignored the pain of the hard concrete trying to rip through my pants and pulled the gag from her mouth.

  “About ten minutes,” she sobbed, knowing exactly what the first words out of my mouth were going to be. Bomber was already on the phone as Gabbie pulled the sedan up beside us. “I’m sorry, Braiden,” Mercy continued.

  “Shhh, don’t be silly,” I said with careful restraint. None of this was Mercy’s fault. It was fucking Jonas Levier’s fault. He was going to die and I wasn’t sure how—there were too many appealing ways circling my mind that I couldn’t choose just one. Gabbie began to free Mercy of her bindings as Bomber stalked towards me, his face and posture all business.

  “Let’s go get your girl, Boss,” he said, his own anger teetering on the same delicate edge as mine. “Jaxon and Ella are on their way here now.”

  I nodded. “Drew, take Mercy back to the office.”

  Drew nodded. The big, silent soldier moved beside Mercy, his firearm in one hand, his other wrapped gently around Mercy’s arm. She looked so small and fragile tucked into his side, the path of her tears dried on her cheeks. When she looked my way any sign of fragility disappeared.

  “You get her back, Braiden,” she ordered.

  A simple nod was the most I could manage, my throat tight with emotion. “Gabbie, Bomber, you’re with me,” I snarled like a wild animal. We climbed into the car, me driving. The methodical task would help keep me in check and offered me the control I needed. “Let’s finish this.”

  “Fuckin’ Aye,” confirmed Bomber.

  “Bout damn time,” murmured Gabbie.

  Chapter 25

  EMILY

  When I woke, my tongue was thick and dry, and my head was pounding in a familiar way—I’d been drugged, again. I’d offered myself in exchange for Mercy, and I hadn’t struggled, but they still damn well drugged me. When I woke on the leather couch in Montgomery Security, I thought I was trapped in a nightmare. Jonas’ voice seeped down the hallway, sending me into a frozen panic. Then Sam’s voice helped break through that panic, followed by Bomber’s, and finally Jonas’ once more. It wasn’t long before I realized it was a recording. Quietly I crept over the carpeted floor to the partially closed door to one of the offices and listened—Jonas had Mercy. My blood ran cold, all my fear of that hostile and callous voice gone with the need to save Mercy. He’d taken Mercy—good, honorable, kind Mercy—who spent her life helping others. Mercy was my friend, and her husband, Dave, was the most patient, kind soul I had ever known. I wouldn’t allow Jonas to ruin them like he ruined me. Moving carefully back to the wide open room I had moments before been safely sleeping in, I slipped out the doors that led to the stairwell and snuck out onto the street. Then I ran hard, all the way to Coats and Collars, knowing exactly where it was—opposite the library, three blocks from Montgomery Security. By the time I threw myself around the last corner, I slipped on the icy pavement and nearly face planted it. A minivan was sitting in front of Coats and Collars. Two familiar faces turned simultaneously in my direction, guns in hand. I knew them and they definitely knew me. Donald and Nate. Nate climbed from the front seat and casually leaned against the van. I approached cautiously as two more men stepped out onto the street, guns aimed at me. I didn’t spare them a glance though, Nate held all of my attention right now. He was the most dangerous one here as far as I was concerned.

  “Emily,” Nate nodded.

  “Where is she?” I asked. There was no way I was leaving with him until I knew Mer
cy was safe. The side of the van opened and Mercy was ruthlessly shoved out. She would have fallen if it weren’t for Nate grabbing her at the last minute.

  “You alone?” Nate asked.

  I nodded. “But not for long. They’ll know I’ve left soon and will come looking for me.” Nate nodded at that and pushed Mercy towards the front windows of Coats and Collars. He then signaled for me to come forward. “You promise no harm will come to her?” Mercy was crying and shaking her head furiously.

  “Nope, but Jonas does. He just wants you; he could give a fuck about them.” Jonas’ word shouldn’t have been enough, but it was. He had never broken his word, not once. When I was within reach, Nate pulled me by the arm, his fingers digging in so hard I knew they would leave bruises. He obviously wasn’t any worse for wear following Braiden shooting him. “Should have put you down years ago,” he snarled, pushing me into the van. I fell backwards, my head hit the hard floor and causing little black spots to float in my vision. A sharp sting pierced the side of my neck, and I knew right away he had drugged me. As my eyelids instantly became heavy, my head lolled to one side. The last thing I remembered was seeing a cell phone sitting just under the seat in front of me, a little light blinking away furiously. Through the thick haze that was quickly dragging me away from the land of consciousness, I knew I wanted to reach out and grab it, but my sluggish body couldn’t respond. Seconds later, everything went black.

  Now I turned my head and took in my surroundings. The room I was in was small, comfortable and clean. The blinds were shut and it was dark, but I had no idea if it was night or day. The door to the room was closed, and I appeared to be alone. Carefully, I sat up and swung my legs off the bed. A glass of water sat on the bedside table and I drank every drop, not caring if it was drugged. My thirst was too great to care. On unsteady feet I stood and dizziness immediately swooped in. Eventually the room around me stilled and I moved to the blinds and peered out. There was nothing but darkness, and not the natural darkness of night, the window was boarded up. Carefully I tried the doorknob to the room and wasn’t surprised to find that it was locked. Then I searched the drawers and cupboards for something I might have been able to use as a weapon, but came up empty handed. The bed was solid timber, so I couldn’t even disassemble it to use a bed leg like Rebecca had done in that dilapidated cabin all those months ago. Eventually, I sat on the side of the bed and took a few long, calming breaths. Braiden wouldn’t have been far behind me; I knew they’d be looking for me now as I rubbed the tracking device in my shoulder, finding some comfort in the fact it was there. I just needed to hang on until they came busting in to save the day. The door handle suddenly rattled as someone unlocked it from the other side. Standing, I pressed my shoulders back, refusing to show fear.

  When the door pushed open, Nate stood on the other side of it. He didn’t move, just stared, eventually shaking his head. “Strip.”

  I tilted my head as I considered the slimy, arrogant prick before me. He had always considered himself too good to fuck me, and I was grateful for that. I hated him and didn’t want his dick anywhere near my body.

  “No,” I said.

  My defiance didn’t surprise Nate. Instead, it amused him. He walked into the room, looking far too nonchalant for my liking. When he was close enough, he hit me. A closed fist to the side of my face which sent me sprawling across the bed at my back. While I was momentarily incapacitated, Nate began ripping the clothes off my body.

  “Fight me, Emily, please. I love it when we tangle.”

  Once I was naked, he pulled me to my unsteady feet and led me out of the room, down a long hallway, which opened into a large living room, easily as big as Braiden’s, perhaps bigger. My gaze darted around the room, assessing my surroundings. Nate was blocking the doorway at my back, a large door stood directly in front of me, there were windows to the left, and a big sprawling couch in front of a cozy fireplace on my right. Sitting on the couch were three men who I had never seen before, all watching me with interest. Remembering I was naked, I somehow refrained from trying to cover myself. It would only amuse them, and I refused to be the source of entertainment for strange men any longer. There appeared to be a small library on my right, with books lined floor to ceiling and a large, brown leather rocker beside it. In the rocker sat Jonas, his familiar handsome features caused my stomach to roll with nausea. He watched me with a small arrogant grin playing on his lips. That kind of sly smile looked devilishly handsome on Braiden, on Jonas it made me sick. I glanced at the man who sat in a chair beside him. This man was definitely a stranger, and he frightened me just as much as Jonas did, perhaps more so if that were at all possible. His cold calculating gaze caught my eye. Even sitting, I could tell he was tall. His shoulders and chest were wide. He was in a grey business suit equally as expensive as Jonas’, his foot propped casually on his knee, expensive black leather shoes shining under the bright light of the room. His eyes were dark, as was his hair, and his skin was olive and smooth. He wasn’t a young man, but, like Jonas, he had looked after himself and looked much younger than he most likely was. He flicked the ash from his cigarette into an ornate ashtray at his side, his eyes watching me in a way I didn’t quite understand. I was completely naked and bare before him, but he wasn’t leering at my body like men in Jonas’ company often did. I didn’t know how to respond to this gaze; it was more borne out of curiosity and interest rather than desire.

  “You’ve caused quite the conundrum, Pet,” drawled Jonas, bringing my attention back to him. “But it seems I have found a way to turn this all around.” He gave the mysterious man at his side a quick glance before he stood and moved towards me. It took everything I had not to take a step away from him as he got within reach. His fingers gripped my chin painfully, forcing my head to one side, inspecting the bruise, most likely already forming from Nate’s fist.

  “She was argumentative.” Nate shrugged.

  “Isn’t she always?” Jonas smirked. No, I thought to myself. My submissiveness had been sickeningly thorough, I had been compliant for far too long. “Kneel,” Jonas growled, any trace of humor gone.

  Before I had a chance to argue, my knees were hit from behind and I fell painfully to the floor. With a deep breath in through my nose, I used all the strength I could muster not to cry out. Instead of relaxing into the submissive posture I had been taught, I held my head high and stared at Jonas defiantly.

  He snickered as he turned to the man who had been sitting at his side. “Mr. Grekov, your merchandise. I must apologize for the bruises, however, they will heal. The scars are...” He waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Well, as I told you, she’s a little banged up but still quite beautiful. And she is trained to the highest standard as a slave. I assure you this little act of insubordination will be easily removed with the appropriate punishment. Water has been quite effective on her in the past.”

  Mr. Grekov put out his cigarette and rose. He was indeed tall and solid. An air of danger radiated from him as he moved towards me. A shiver ran through my body, one of pure, unadulterated fear. This man was going to buy me—this man procured slaves—he was just like Jonas, filled with evil, but there was something else, something more to him. My soon to be new master circled me once before crouching down in front of me, too close for comfort. Refusing to squirm under his assessing eyes, which bored into mine as if seeking out my soul, I met his stare. This man was no doubt the scariest thing I had ever seen, but there was definitely something else behind his gaze. His large clenched fist rose to my shoulder, and I flinched ever so slightly. Rather than hit me though, the back of his knuckles slid down my arm. I tried hard not to recoil at the gesture. When his hand found mine in my lap, the most startling thing happened. A cold sharp pocket sized object was placed in my fist, and my fingers were encouraged to close over it. It was a knife.

  “Ona dovol'no prekrasen,” the man murmured with a thick accent.

  I glanced nervously at Jonas who was partly hidden behind the hulking figure.
He obviously didn’t notice the interaction to be anything out of the ordinary. Jonas was looking at a tall man standing close by with an arched brow.

  “He finds her attractive,” the man translated for Jonas. My hands trembled and I clenched them together to prevent anyone from noticing. The blade in my palm cut into my skin, reminding me of its presence.

  Mr. Grekov stood and moved away. “Den'gi,” the mysterious man growled.

  The tall man who had translated held up a briefcase that one of Jonas’ men took. He was quick to open it and started counting the bundled money inside. This was a transaction, an exchange of human life for cash. The thought filled my blood with anger.

  Jonas moved to stand in front of me again. “You lost me a buyer, tarnished my reputation, and forced me to close several of my businesses. You put quite a dent in my funds, Pet. Luckily for me, I found a buyer looking for someone just like you. Mr. Grekov has quite the reputation for depravity,” Jonas smiled, “which you are somewhat accustomed to.”

  “I’m going to kill you,” I snarled. The words spilled free from lips having come straight from my heart.

  Jonas laughed. “Of course you are, Pet.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me. Jonas turned to Mr. Grekov. “Before the transaction is complete, I am going to indulge one last time. As I’m sure you can appreciate, she has been servicing me for many years. I am almost regretful to let her go.”

  Mr. Grekov didn’t argue but it his eyes flared with something close to anger.

  Jonas began to move forward, removing his belt as he did. “What do you say, Pet, one last fuck just for old time sake? Since I was your first, it only seems fitting that I be your last on American soil.”

  Nate’s hard hand grabbed one of my arms ruthlessly from behind as he prepared to hold me down for Jonas. My body seemed to slip into a state of calm resolve. I would rather die than be a filthy slave to these men any longer, and I would take as many of these animals with me in the process.