Page 106 of Judge's Mercy

Riot holds the door open for me to enter the restaurant. I pause just inside because I don’t know if we’re sharing a meal or what. He walks past the hostess stand and through the door that leads to the kitchen. Back when I was working, we spent a lot of time in here. When the restaurant was open, the chef would make us whatever we wanted as long as they had the ingredients, and when they weren’t here, we were allowed to make our own snacks or simple meals that didn’t require more than a microwave.

The chef on duty doesn’t even bat an eye as we walk right past him and into the. . . pantry? My curiosity is at an all-time high as I watch him mess with something that opens a secret door. Peering through the opening, all I see is a set of stairs leading down.

“Riot, I?—”

“Down you go.” He gives me a shove.

“I don’t even?—”

“For fuck’s sake, this is a good thing. Now get your ass down there.”

“Are you coming?”

“Do you want me to?”

Shit. That’s a hard decision, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me, so maybe it’s best if he does. “Yes.”

“All right.” He rubs his hands together and clomps down the stairs.

My steps are not as confident as I creep my way down to the basement I didn’t even know was here. My heart rate ratchets up as I catch a whiff of piss. Suddenly, I’m flooded with memories of the last time I was in a smelly basement, and I don’t know if I can do this.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks.

“I can’t.” I shake my head and turn around.

“Killer,” he calls out, stopping me in my tracks. “You got that name because you set out to right some wrongs. Shit got fucked up toward the end there, I get that, but this is your chance to get even. You gonna take it, or do I get to finish him off? I’m okay with either one.”

Finish him off? Does he mean. . . ?

“David?” I whisper.

He pops his head around the corner. “Yo, asshole. Your name David?” A second later, he’s back. “He didn’t answer, but with how nervous he looked when I said it, I’m guessing yes.”

“What? But how? I mean, Cy said?—”

“That you had to wait until you were patched in. You’re fucking patched, so let’s get to it.”

Bracing myself on the wall since there are no handrails, I descend the rest of the stairs and take a deep breath before rounding the corner. I’ve fantasized about this moment for six months. I’ve killed him a million times over in my mind, each death more miserable and inventive than the last.

I pinch my arm to make sure this isn’t a dream. The sharp sting makes me smile, but only for a second because now Judge’s behavior makes sense, and I feel like shit. He wasn’t atoning for his own sin; he was atoning for one I hadn’t even committed yet. He’s so worried about my soul that he made reparations on his skin in my name. What I’m doing goes against every fiber of his being, yet he sent me on my way—with his weapons to boot.

That man loves me so fucking much, and since Judge suffered for me to kill this bastard, I better make it good.

I blink as I adjust to the low light, making sure I’m seeing this correctly. David’s standing on top of a stack of bricks in the center of the room, his wrists chained and suspended above his head. He’s dressed exactly as he was the last time I saw him, suit coat and all, but what little hair he has is sticking up in all directions, the only indication he’s not having the best day.

“You,” David grits out in accusation. “I swear to God, if you don’t let me go. . . “

He doesn’t bother finishing his threat; we both know I’m the one in control now, and the rush of power is intoxicating. I would’ve enjoyed seeing the shock on his face when Riot took him down, but there’s always next time as we work through my list.

“What are you gonna do to him?” Riot says next to my ear, startling me.

“I don’t know. What are my options?”

“Whatever the fuck you want.”

“Can I shoot him in here? I mean, will anyone hear?”

“Nah. Go for it. This room is soundproof, and even if it wasn’t, no one would say shit. We pay them too well.” Riot cracks his knuckles. “I recommend taking your cut off. Getting blood off leather sucks.”

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