Page 103 of Judge's Mercy

“Yeah.” Judge doesn’t appear the least bit confused as he pulls me closer to the founding father of the Sons of Erebus.

A rock settles in my gut as I wonder what this could mean. Is he here to object to a woman joining the club? I swear to God, if he takes this away from me, I’ll be devastated.

“Tripod, this is Myla, our newest prospect,” Cy says like a proud dad, and in a lot of ways, that’s what he’s become to me. He never says no when I want to learn more about bike engines. Or, if I just get bored and walk over to the Garage, he’s always happy to listen to me yammer on while he works. I love his wife, Char, just as much. The gorgeous woman with legs for days and the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen can’t be more than fifteen years older than me, making the age gap between her and Cy even bigger than the one between Judge and me.

“Well, well. I finally get to meet the little hellion who wants to be a Sons,” Tripod says, holding out a hand that I shake as though I’m a man.

“Nice to meet you,” I say.

He turns to Cy. “I’m sorry. I just don’t see it. I heard she was small, but fucking hell, Cy. First, you let baby face over there prospect, and now a woman who can’t lift her bike if it tips?”

“I can,” I interrupt.

His beady eyes turn on me, and in them, I see years of darkness, evil, and death. “Excuse me?”

I straighten my spine. “It was the first thing I learned to do when I put on my cut. I know I don’t look like much, but I can do everything I need to in order to be a Son. It might look different, but I still get it done.”

Judge squeezes my hand in a silent show of support while I stand proud under the scrutiny of a room full of scary-looking men. But I stopped cowering almost a year ago when I was dumped just outside of where I stand now, and I’ll never do it again.

His expression is unreadable, but I stay firm, holding his gaze until he’s the one to break it by walking away from me. He waves his hand through the air and yells, “Church.”

All the ranking members follow, and I turn to Judge. “What is this? I thought there was a party.”

“It is. Sort of.” He shrugs his shoulders, looking guilty as fuck.

“What do you know?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“You’re keeping a secret from me?” I huff.

“Prospect,” Rigger shouts in my direction. I look all around me to see if he’s calling for me or Tobi, but he’s not here.

“Me?”

“Yeah. Need you in here.”

I stare dumbly at him, nervous and confused as hell. Over the last few months, I’ve grown comfortable with all my club brothers, but it’s always been in a casual atmosphere. When everyone is serious and official, it feels as though I don’t know them at all.

“Go on,” Judge says, slapping my ass.

I rub my sweaty palms down my jeans and school my features as I walk into the windowless room I’ve only heard about.

On the walls are framed articles and pictures of what I’m assuming are important memories, but that’s it. That’s the entire room. I’ve heard rumors that the walls are reinforced with cement and wire mesh to block cell phone reception, that it acts like a safe room when you close the steel door, but I don’t know if it’s true.

“Probably wondering why you’re here,” Cy says.

“Very much, actually.”

“You’ve been prospecting for six months, which is the minimum requirement before we can take a vote. A lot of prospects take longer than that, like Tobi, but others we know right at that six-month mark whether they have what it takes.”

“And what did you decide?” I tell myself not to cry if they reject me and to walk out with my head held high.

“That’s up to the vote.” He looks to his left to start the vote. “If even one person votes nay, you’re out. I’m not talking about going back to prospecting; I mean you’re done altogether.”

My stomach lurches with the threat as Rigger’s piercing emerald gaze locks onto me, studying my every move with a serious expression. I try to appear calm and composed, standing tall like a soldier at attention, when in reality, my hands are trembling behind my back, my legs pressed together for stability.

“Aye,” he finally says, his lips curling up into a smile.

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