Page 77 of Judge's Mercy

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see I have several missed calls and texts. Before calling them back, I get on the freeway, then off the freeway and over to a side street, only to get back on the freeway. Is that how you shake a tail? Am I even doing this right? I’ve never felt more inadequate than I do right now. I wear the SOE cut, but I might as well be playing dress-up for all I really know about being in an MC.

Once settled in the slow lane, I call Cy, putting it on speaker.

“Where the fuck are you?” he roars.

“I have her,” I say, looking in the rearview to the backseat, where Myla is still flopped over, unconscious. At least, I hope she is. Shit. Should I pull over and make sure she’s okay?

“What do you mean?”

“I have Myla. Are you guys back at the clubhouse?”

“You mean after you sent us on a goddamn wild goose chase for no reason? Yeah, we’re back here wondering where the hell you are.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Call Bones, tell him to come right away.”

“Shit. Okay, yeah.” He snaps his fingers and whispers something. “Is it you or her who needs medical?”

“Her. Fuck. I don’t know what they did to her.” My lower lip quivers and my voice raises an octave. “What if she’s not okay?”

“Listen to me, son. Don’t go borrowing trouble. All you need to worry about is getting her here safely. Can you do that?” He gentles his tone, which makes my nose sting. Even pissed off as all hell, he’s still helping me through this.

“I love her.”

“I know.” He stays on the line in a comfortable silence, just showing me support.

Turning onto the road that leads to the clubhouse, I say, “Almost there. Is Bones coming?”

“He’ll be here in three.”

“Can someone meet me outside with a blanket?”

“I’m sure Tinleigh will want t?—”

“No! Not her. Have Lucky keep her away until we know what’s going on. She won’t want to see her like this.”

“Shit. Okay. I’ll meet you out there.”

I hang up as I pull through the gate and park. Cyrus walks out with a blanket before I can even shut off the engine. The second he sees the state of the car, he scrubs a hand down his beard that went gray many years ago. The look he gives me says he won’t wait for answers. Well, that’s too damn bad.

“Not now. Myla first,” I say, jogging over to the passenger side.

Opening the door, I get my first real look at her, and what I see nearly brings me to my knees. There are so many injuries that I don’t even know how to assess which is the worst. I lean in and rest my head on her chest, feeling her chest rise and fall and hearing her heartbeat, both of which sound too slow to be normal. At least she’s alive.

There’s a goose egg forming in the center of her forehead and blood dripping down her temple for an unknown reason. Her delicate fingers are bloody, and a few of her fingernails popped up, as if she’d been clawing something to escape. Then there’s the bloody gauze around her arm. My stomach turns. I can’t believe so much happened to her in so little time. Her poor, fragile body is basically one bruise, each individual one bleeding into the next and topped with cuts and abrasions scattered all over. She’s been through hell.

Bones can fix it; I’ve seen him fix worse.

“Get her out, son. Bones’ll be here any minute, and he’ll want to look her over.” Cy hands me the blanket I use to cover up her nudity before scooping her into my arms. She doesn’t even startle, her limbs hanging and her head lolling.

“Where to?”

He clears his throat. “We cleared off a couple tables, just like last time. Seemed to work well.”

He says last time because this has happened to her before, and if her entire personality changed after that, how will she cope after this time? I can’t even think about it.

As I enter the clubhouse, Rigger, Dutch, and Golden step forward to assist, but I motion for them to stay back. She’s unconscious and vulnerable. I trust my brothers and know they wouldn’t harm her, but she’s been violated and exposed too many times. If I can enforce this small amount of respect, then I will.

“Don’t touch her,” I growl.

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