Page 3 of Mercy

I force myself to nod. "Yeah, just... a lot to process, I guess."

Marcie takes my bag and puts it in the backseat while Fern starts to help me get up.

The two ladies work together to help me rise up into the seat, but honestly, I could have done it without them.

I might still be sore but I'm not totally incapacitated.

As Fern slides into the driver's seat, I stare out the window, watching the hospital shrink in the side mirror.

Part of me wants to ask her to turn around, to take me anywhere but the clubhouse.

But where would I go?

The club is all I have.

"You know," Fern says as she navigates through traffic, "it's okay to be nervous about going back."

I turn to look at her, surprised by her perceptiveness. "I'm not... I mean, I?—"

She cuts me off with a gentle laugh. "Meghan, honey, I've been around long enough to know when someone's putting on a brave face."

I slump in my seat, feeling suddenly exposed. "Is it that obvious?"

Fern shrugs. "Only to someone who's been there. We've all had our moments of doubt, of wondering if this life is really for us."

Her words hang in the air between us, and I find myself studying her.

Fern has always been something of an enigma to me—the President's ol' lady, a position of power and respect, yet somehow removed from the day-to-day chaos of club life.

She and Charm run a spa and for the most part, that takes up their time.

She’s also been through things I wouldn’t ever imagine on my worst enemy.

"How do you do it?" I ask softly. "How do you live with the constant danger, the uncertainty?"

Fern is quiet for a long moment, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

When she finally speaks, her voice is thoughtful. "You find something worth fighting for. Something that makes all the risks, all the fear, worth it."

I think of Tor, of the way his green eyes light up when he smiles, of the gentle touch of his hand on mine during those long nights in the hospital.

Is he my something worth fighting for?

"And what if..." I start, then pause, unsure how to voice the doubts swirling in my mind. "What if you're not sure you're strong enough?"

Fern glances at me, a knowing look in her eyes. "Strength isn't about never being afraid, Meghan. It's about facing those fears head-on."

I nod, letting her words sink in. As we turn onto the familiar street leading to the clubhouse, I feel my pulse quicken. The sight of the imposing building looming ahead sends a shiver down my spine.

"Fern," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, "what if I can't do this?"

She pulls into the parking lot and turns off the engine before facing me fully. "Listen to me, Meghan. You survived a vicious attack. You fought your way back from a coma. You're one of the strongest women I know."

Her words bring unexpected tears to my eyes.

I blink them back, not wanting to smear my makeup before seeing everyone.

"But if you decide this isn't the life for you," Fern continues, her tone serious, "know that you have options. The club takes care of its own, even if they choose to leave."

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