Page 3 of Hellfire's Mercy

"Leave us," I tell Angel and Butcher.

My daughter gives me a knowing look that I choose to ignore before closing the door behind them.

Chloe shifts in her chair, and I catch a whiff of something floral – jasmine maybe. It's been a long time since I've been this close to something that doesn't smell like leather, gun oil, or blood.

"You have two choices," I tell her, moving back behind my desk to put some distance between us. "One, we make sure you can never write another story again." I watch her pale at the implied threat. "Or two, you work with us."

"Work with you?" She blinks those big eyes at me, confusion clear on her face. "What do you mean?"

I light another cigarette, using the moment to choose my words carefully.

"The Outlaws are going to hit back hard. When they do, we might need someone with access to local information. Someone who can keep their ear to the ground without raising suspicion."

"You want me to spy for you?" She sounds incredulous. "That's... that's completely unethical! I'm a journalist!"

I can't help but laugh. "Sweetheart, you were just caught trespassing and eavesdropping. Let's not pretend you're above bending ethics."

A blush spreads across her cheeks, and damn if it doesn't make her even more attractive. "That's different. I was investigating a story."

"And now you'll be investigating several stories. Just not the ones you were writing about." I lean forward, holding her gaze. "Think of it as exclusive access to the club. Isn't that what you wanted?"

She bites her lower lip, and my eyes track the movement before I can stop myself. "And if I refuse?"

"Then I hope you enjoy living in Ohio with your mother." I watch the words hit home. "Because you won't be welcome in Cedar Falls anymore."

She stands suddenly, her chair scraping against the floor.

"You can't just force me to work for you! This is blackmail!"

I rise too, my height advantage allowing me to tower over her.

"This is survival, little girl. Your choice is simple – be useful or be gone."

She takes a step toward me, anger making her eyes flash. "I am not a little girl."

The tension in the room shifts, becoming something else entirely. She's close enough now that I can see the pulsehammering in her throat, count the freckles dusting her nose. Close enough to...

A rapid knock on the door breaks the moment.

"Boss!" Butcher's voice carries through. "We've got company coming. Outlaws, at least six bikes."

"Shit," I mutter, grabbing Chloe's arm. "Time's up, sweetheart. What's it going to be?"

Their eyes widen as the sound of approaching motorcycles fills the air.

"I... I'll do it," she stammers out. "I'll help you."

Smart girl. I pull her toward a concealed door behind a bookshelf.

"Angel!" I call out, and my daughter appears instantly. "Get her out through the tunnels. Take her home. Make sure she's not followed."

"What tunnels?" Chloe asks, but I'm already pushing her toward Angel.

"Don't leave her side until I call," I tell my daughter, then turn to Chloe. "You don't exist for the next few hours. No phone calls, no social media, nothing. Understand?"

She nods, fear finally overtaking the defiance in her eyes. Before I can stop myself, I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me.

"You're under my protection now. Remember that."

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