Page 84 of Judge's Mercy

“Fuck that. At some point, probably real damn soon, your skin will be too damaged to heal.”

“I’ll figure it out,” I say, panic gripping my throat because this feels like he’s about to kick me out of the club.

“In the meantime, I don’t want you takin’ on any more confessions from the club.” He stands.

“What does that mean for my place in the club?” I ask. I’m not trying to sound like a whiny bastard, but my only role is to be a spiritual leader. Without that, I’m nobody.

“I’ll have to think about that.” He steps out of the small room and I follow. “I know it took a lot for you to tell me your history, so if you want me to tell the guys, I will. Not everyone, of course, but ranking members.”

“I’d appreciate that,” I say. Cyrus stops at his bike, but I keep walking. “I better go check on Myla.”

“You do that. I’ll see you later.”

The walk back to the cabin isn’t nearly long enough for me to get my thoughts in order, but the way I left Myla has me unsettled. I’m nowhere near ready to decide whether I can stick around and watch while she constantly puts herself in danger to finish her stupid fucking list, but the one thing I do know is that things can’t end like this.

I’m relieved to see Myla’s car is now gone from the parking lot. Cy arranged for it to be demolished, and I’ve been instructed to help her report the car as stolen. It’ll take some time, but eventually, her insurance should pay to replace it.

Typing in the lock code, I wait for the soft snick before pushing the door open. As I push off my boots, I notice it’s eerily quiet, but maybe Myla fell back asleep and Tinleigh is just hanging out. I gave Tinleigh specific instructions not to leave Myla alone, so I can’t imagine she left.

Rounding the corner to my room, I find the bed empty. What the hell? My heart races, wondering if that asshole she tried to kill found her somehow and took her again. It’s highly unlikely since the compound is secure, but it’s not impossible. Dashing to the bathroom, I find that empty too.

I pull out my cell and call her number, forgetting that her phone was in the lockbox on her bike and we haven’t tried to recover it. Hanging up, I try Tinleigh’s number and am sent right to voicemail. Lucky is next, and thank fuck, he answers.

He answers with, “Don’t be pissed.”

“What did you do?”

“Myla asked me to take her home. She said she wanted to be with her cat and recover at home.”

“Why would you do that?” I bite out, pushing my feet back into my boots.

“I don’t know what you said to her, bro, but whatever it was, you made her all sad and shit.”

“I didn’t say anything. I told her I was going for a ride, that’s it.”

“Was it?” he asks, disbelieving.

“I mean, we were in the middle of a discussion, but I needed a break. Why am I even explaining this to you? I’ve got to go.”

“Stop!” he shouts before I can hang up.

“What?” I bark.

“She doesn’t want to see you right now.”

“I don’t give a shit. We need to finish talking.”

“Not a good idea. Besides, she had me change her door code, so even if you showed up, you couldn’t get in.” I can hear the grimace in his voice.

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“You’ve met my fiancée, right? Dude, she’s hot as fuck, but when she’s pissed, she won’t let me near her round ass and her?—”

“Stop. Please. I don’t want to hear that shit.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever. Thanks.” I hang up, defeated. What does she have to be pissed about? I’m the one who should be mad. Matter of fact, I am mad. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since I found her naked and drugged after being shot and physically assaulted, only to learn she wants to go back to doing what got her in trouble in the first place. Fuck that.

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