Page 6 of Mercenary's Redemption

"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain beautiful firecracker you got tangled up with last night, would it?"

The smug look he gives me makes it clear he already knows the answer. I don't bother denying it; I grunt and shake my head as I resume scrubbing the already spotless counter.

These two jackasses probably have every sordid detail about my little damsel-in-distress scenario from the flapping lips of the other drunken patrons. I can already picture the ridicule and endless ribbing I'm about to endure.

"So, what do you think, Chance?" Knowledge pipes up with a smirk. "Is the cute little mama really worth getting the infamous Mercenary so tongue-tied?"

Knowledge and Trickster both burst out laughing at his goading remark, clearly enjoying getting under my skin about this whole thing far too much.

"Alright, you two jackasses better shut your traps before I shut 'em for ya," I growl, chucking a damp rag in their direction.

They duck the projectile easily, still chortling away as I turn my back on them and focus on restocking the beer coolers. Maybe if I ignore their childish taunts long enough, they'll get bored and move on.

Eventually, Trickster seems to settle down, cracking open a fresh beer.

"For real, though, brother," he says, his tone turning more serious. "You think Rog and his dumbass crew are gonna be a problem after you laid into 'em like that?"

I pause, considering it for a moment before shaking my head.

"Nah, those idiots just needed to be reminded who runs this joint. They'll steer clear."

"Still, Rog's got family ties to the Outlaw Riders over in Silvervale Mountain, and I’ve heard they’re trying to expand," Knowledge points out with a frown. "Wouldn't put it past that hothead to go crying to them looking to settle the score."

He's got a point there. The last thing we need is those psychos from the Outlaw Riders coming around and starting shit.

The rapping of knuckles against the bar's front door cuts off my train of thought. All three of us turn towards the noise.

"Well, would you look at that," I say gruffly, jerking my chin towards the door. "Somebody who actually knows how to knock first."

Raising my voice, I call out, "Door's open! Get in here!"

The door swings open, and speaking of the freaking devil - it's that beautiful girl from last night standing there. Only this time, she's alone, no whiny kid in tow. And holy hell, the view is even better than I remember.

She's got these beautiful legs peeking out from underneath a little denim skirt that doesn't quite hide the swell of thick thighs that make my mouth go dry. Combined with the tight pink top stretching taut across her chest, it's a struggle not to let my eyes roam every delicious curve.

My throat suddenly feels as parched as the desert, and I have to give my head a small shake to clear it.

"What're you doing here?" I growl, unable to keep the gruffness out of my voice as she hovers in the doorway. "Ain't last night's excitement enough for you?"

The girl seems taken aback by my rudeness, her pretty eyes going wide as she swallows drily.

"I...I just wanted to thank you properly," she stammers after a moment. "And ask if there's anything I can do to make up for the trouble my son caused..."

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Trickster and Knowledge poorly trying to smother their laughter behind cupped hands. I shoot them both a warning glare before turning my attention back to the girl.

"Don't need anything from you," I tell her bluntly, shaking my head.

Her brow furrows, that sweet mouth turning down in a frown.

"Well, there's no need to be rude about it," she retorts, seemingly finding her voice again.

I open my mouth to fire back a retort when two loud rumblings cut me off. It's not the typical roar of a motorcycle engine arriving at my bar, though—this sound is deeper and heading straight for us at an alarming speed.

In a split second, I realize what's happening.

"Get down!" I roar, vaulting over the bar and grabbing the girl by her waist. I yank her against me as I twist, shielding her body with mine just as an ear-splitting crash erupts.

Shards of broken glass explode all around us as something heavy and solid - a goddamn baseball bat by the sound of it - smashes through every window of the bar in quick succession.

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