Page 7 of The Merciless King

Probably both.

“I do, but I will do it without if I have to. I need a door opener. That’s all,” I say, and my eyes drift back to Mia.

I’m not a manipulator. My nature is to protect—it’s why I joined the Marine Corps—so to ask a woman, a fellow Marine's wife, to do something dangerous goes against the grain.

But this is for Amy.

If she’s still alive.

I shut my thinking down, not allowing myself to go down that road. I can’t. I have to believe she is still alive and needs my help.

I promised her.

I fucking promised her.

“I know I’m asking a lot,” I say to Mia, then cast my eyes around the room. “Of all of you. I don’t know all the details, but I know you’ve all been through hell. Help me get inside, then I’ll do the rest.”

“Bullshit,” Nathan growls, lifting his boot onto his knee.

If he expects a reaction, he doesn’t get one. I blink. That’s it. I’m well aware how powerful and deadly protective of their women these men are, but so am I.

They don’t intimidate me.

I respect them.

“If you think you can come in here and ask us to throw one of ours into a crime family alone,” Nathan says, shooting Decker a look. “After what we’ve lived for the past six years, then you’re either bullshitting us or on a suicide mission.”

“It’s the latter,” Connor deadpans.

I nearly laugh, but he’s not comedic. In fact, there’s an aura about him that the rest of us don’t have.

Much darker.

His past is heavy on his shoulders. It’s a story I may or may never hear, but I don’t second guess whether the men in this room know. They do. I can sense the brotherhood.

In a way, I’m envious.

I already miss the camaraderie of the Marine Corps.

I snort. “I’d like to think it’s not. I also know the limits of what I can ask of you all.”

Decker leans forward and rubs his forehead, then his eyes lift to Connor. A silent conversation takes place between them.

“I’m about to become a father,” he rasps. “If Mia agrees to introduce you to the Baldassare crime family, we can support you from here.”

“Decker and Nate are compromised in any case,” Mack says, and then cool as a cucumber adds, “I met you once. In Afghanistan.”

I nod.

He remembers. I wasn’t sure if he would. Connor never responded when I brought it up. Just tilted his head, encouraging me to get on with my story.

He gives nothing away, that guy—it probably keeps him alive. Not only is he a Marine, but he’s also a powerful businessman. A billionaire.

“So, you’re one of us. What these guys are trying to say is, if you need our help to get your cousin out, we will help,” Mack says.

My throat tightens.

“Can I help?” Mateo, his stepson, asks.

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