Page 73 of Judge's Mercy

Minutes or hours pass as I stare at my eggs, rethinking every word she said when she told me she was going out for the night, searching for any clues, but there were none. She didn’t even outright say what she was doing; I just read between the lines. Even before that, she never clued me in on how she made her choice about who to go after. I knew what she was doing, but only in a general way, and now, I wish I had demanded more information for safety’s sake.

Golden, Dutch, and Mustang walk in, pulling me from my thoughts, and I push my plate away, unable to stomach another bite. My three brothers take a seat at my table, looking more rested than I do. I’m glad someone was able to get some sleep.

“Anything?” Dutch asks.

“Not yet.”

“Bite your tongue. I’ve finally narrowed it down to three men,” Satyr calls out.

I’m on my feet in seconds, rushing over to him, a renewed sense of hope washing over me. Digging my phone out of my pocket, I send a text to Cy and Rigger and tell them the news. As if they were standing by waiting, I receive two texts back in seconds, Rigger saying he’s on his way and Cy telling me not to do anything until he gets here.

“Whatcha got?” I ask, looking at the screen.

“I crossed off anyone who is out of town right now, which was easy. After that, I hacked into the location services of all their cellphones, and if they were in a public place, like work, they got crossed off. I crossed off the two Myla took care of and one who’s in the hospital for an unrelated surgery. Once I had that, I dug into the remaining men’s lives and thought these three might be her most likely targets. It’s not an exact science, so if we find nothing with these guys, we can expand.”

“Why were they denied entry to the ranch?”

“This guy is a cop and has numerous excessive force charges, yet he hasn’t even been put on suspension,” Satyr says.

“Fuckin’ pig,” I scoff. “What about the other two?”

“One is a high-up in a geothermal energy company and has his hands in a lot of different political pools, making sure the EPA stays off his ass. He also runs some kind of charity resource center for unhoused teens. A few months ago, a girl went to the authorities and made a report stating she was taken, abused, drugged, and pimped out to old men.” Satyr points to a picture of an unremarkable man. He looks like any other high and mighty man with too much money. “The girl retracted her statement just days later, and when I dug around to see where she is now, I found a one-way, first-class ticket to New York in her name, and her bank account was padded with twenty K.”

“He paid her off,” I say.

“Looks like.” His finger moves lower to another picture. “And then this dude sells porn starring his very underage stepdaughter.”

“When we find Myla, can we take over and kill all the motherfuckers on that list?” Dutch asks, cracking his knuckles.

“That would only lead to trouble, but we should report them,” Golden says, always playing by the rules.

“If by ‘report them’, you mean we should feed them their own dicks, then hell yeah. Let’s do that.” This time, it’s Satyr suggesting murder. He and Dutch are the club enforcers, whereas Golden is the treasurer. Enough said.

“What’s what?” Cy asks, charging into the clubhouse, bringing with him a burst of energy. Hot on his heels are Rigger and Lucky.

“Where’s Tinleigh?” I ask Lucky.

“Left her at Myla’s apartment. My mom’s on her way over to keep her company, and Tigger’ll keep watch until this is over.”

I nod in approval, happy Tinleigh’s found her other half. After spending her whole life sacrificing herself, it’s good to know she has Lucky to put her first for a change. The giant bastard is obsessed with her. As soon as I get Myla back, I’ll do the same. I might be fucked in the head and have no experience being a boyfriend, but I know how to make her happy. I hope that’s enough.

Satyr repeats the breakdown for the newcomers while I try to tap into Myla’s thought patterns so we can know which motherfucker we’re going after. The cop is out; I think Myla would prioritize kids first.

“Now we have to decide if we split up or if we pick one and hope we’re right.” Cy tugs on his pointed beard, glancing over at me. “Damn, I still got it. Look at that shiner.”

Touching my swollen cheek, I smirk. “Not time for the retirement home yet, old man.”

“Watch it,” he jokes, which is his way of letting me know I’ve been forgiven. “You got any thoughts on this?”

“I don’t think it’s the cop,” I say.

“I was thinkin’ the same. That leaves the teen abuse or child abuse, both sexual.” He stares at the screen, thinking. “Maybe we split into two groups. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best we got because both those assholes are pieces of shit, and it’s impossible to gauge which is the bigger piece of shit.”

“Hold up.” I point to the kiddie porn guy. “She might want to protect the babies before she goes after the teen prostitution guy.”

“You willing to bet Myla’s life on that?” Cy asks.

“I am.”

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