Page 72 of Judge's Mercy

“Where are you off to?”

He turns and walks backward. “My last job. After this, the Costas are paid up and off our asses.”

I nearly forgot that the club was indebted to a crime family. When Rigger left his abusive dad’s home, his dad turned that abuse on Rigger’s stepsister and stepmom. He had no idea until his stepsister, Navy, showed up as an employee of the Honey Pot. Rigger shut that shit down quick, but when he learned about the physical and sexual abuse, he wanted to kill the asshole.

Unfortunately, his dad was owned by the same crime family we had a loan out from. So, in order to keep things copacetic, Riot took Rigger’s dad’s place as a problem solver—meaning he had to take out anyone who defaulted on their loans and refused to pay—and in turn, Rigger got to pay his dad the same courtesy he paid Navy all those years.

Riot didn’t seem to mind going to work for the Costas. If anything, he jumped at the chance. I get the feeling that his demons get the best of him, and he deals with it the only way he knows how—through violence and bloodshed. I’ve approached him about confessing to me on a few occasions, but he turned me down because he regrets nothing and wears his kills like a badge of honor.

Yeah, he’s fucked up.

Shaking my head, I proceed to the clubhouse, where I’m met with an air of anxious silence. It’s been hours since I told the club about Myla’s secret life. I inhale the smell of brewing coffee, as if just the scent will clear my mind. Moving behind the bar, I nearly run into Sugar.

“Hey, sweetie. How ya holdin’ up?” She rubs comforting circles on my back.

“I hate the wait. I just want to do something.”

She takes my hands. Even this early in the morning, she has on her trademark red lipstick and a full face of makeup. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without it. “The only thing you can do right now is take care of yourself so you’re ready to go when it’s time. So go get yourself some coffee and breakfast.”

“I will. Thanks, Sugar.”

She winks. “Always. And when you get her back, you bring her here so I can make her some comfort food.”

“I’m sure she’d like that.” It’s a lie. She’d hate that. Coming here after who knows what has been done to her would mean she’d have an audience, and the last thing Myla ever wants is attention. She prefers to stay in the shadows. Sugar doesn’t need to know that, though. This woman is an angel, and there’s no one in this club who wouldn’t die for her.

Knowing Sugar’s right, I pour myself a cup of coffee and put some eggs on a plate. My stomach is in knots, but I’ll choke down some protein if it’ll keep my energy up. Satyr is right where I left him, sitting at the table, his eyes glued to the monitor and his fingers tapping on the keys, only now, there are three crunched up empty cans of energy drinks next to him.

Lucky and Tinleigh sit side by side at another table. They must’ve taken a break too, because they’re in fresh clothes, and Tinleigh’s hair is wet. She waves me over, so I take a seat across from them. Even though Tinleigh forgave me for keeping Myla’s secrets, things still feel tense between us. I fucking hate it.

“Anything?” I ask.

“No, but he’s crossed a few names off the list, so there’s been progress.” Tinleigh rests her chin on her folded arms, looking exhausted. Her eyes are red and swollen, and she’s sniffling. My heart is already on the verge of breaking, and seeing her so upset only makes it that much worse.

“I’ve got to run to her apartment after I eat. Can you call me if he finds anything?”

“Why do you have to go to her apartment?” Lucky asks, scooting his chair out before physically dragging Tinleigh over to his lap—not that she protests. Her arms loop around his neck, and she curls into him.

“I got her a kitten, and I need to make sure it has food and shit.”

Tinleigh perks up the smallest amount. “You got her a kitten?”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “Like I said, she’s been feeling lonely, and I thought maybe a pet would help.”

“Would you mind if I went to feed it? I think snuggling a baby like that might make me feel a little better.”

“Sure. All his stuff is on the table. He gets a quarter of a can of food. He’ll cry for more, but don’t give in, or he’ll be sick.”

“Okay.” She turns to Lucky. “Will you come with me?”

“Try and stop me.” Lucky stands with Tinleigh in his arms before lowering her to her feet.

“What’s his name?” she asks, and I smile, remembering how happy the little ball of fluff made Myla when she saw him. Fuck, was that just yesterday? It feels like weeks have passed since then.

“Ryder.”

“I love that.”

“We’ll be back in an hour. Call me if anything turns up.” Lucky raps his knuckles on Satyr’s table twice. He nods without looking up.

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