Page 26 of Mercy

I see something flicker across my father's face—recognition, maybe even a hint of fear.

It's gone in an instant, but it's enough to set off alarm bells in my head.

Who is the Patriot, and why does his name seem to mean something to my father?

His grip on the man tightens. "Run back to your boss," he snarls, "and tell him that Tallahassee belongs to the Raiders of Valhalla. If the Patriot knows what's good for him, he'll get the fuck out of here."

As he shoves the man away, I can't help but wonder what we've just stumbled into.

This isn't just some random group trying to muscle in on our territory.

There's history here, something my father isn't telling me.

CHAPTER FIVE

Meghan

The wine glass trembles in my hand as I bring it to my lips, the rich burgundy liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

I take a sip, hoping the alcohol will calm my nerves, but the knot in my stomach only tightens.

The familiar scent of leather and whiskey permeates the air of the clubhouse, a smell that used to bring me comfort but now makes my skin crawl.

I even saw Gwen in here earlier trying to freshen up the place, but there’s no amount of cleaner or candles that’ll make the clubhouse smell like an actual house.

"You okay, Meghan?" Starla asks, her brow furrowed with concern. "You look a little pale."

I force a smile, setting my glass down on the intricately carved bar. "I'm fine, just a bit tired."

Starla doesn't look convinced, but she doesn't push it.

That's what I love about her—she knows when to back off.

I glance around the room, taking in the faces of the other women gathered for this impromptu "girls' night."

Fern, Charm, Gwen, Magnolia, and Vail are all here, chatting and laughing as if nothing's changed.

Aziza's making a last minute catering order so she can't be here, and Skadi had some sort of job that took her out of town.

I just don't understand how the ladies can laugh, asif I hadn't been attacked in this very building just a few weeks ago.

"This was a great idea, Starla," Gwen says, raising her glass in a toast. "We needed a night to ourselves, away from all the testosterone."

The others laugh and clink their glasses together.

I join in halfheartedly, my mind wandering to the real reason we're here.

Starla organized this whole thing because I told her I don't feel at home in the clubhouse anymore.

She's trying to make me comfortable, to show me I'm safe here.

But how can I feel safe when every shadow makes me jump, every unexpected noise sends my heart racing?

"Earth to Meghan," Magnolia says, waving a hand in front of my face. "Where'd you go, girl?"

I blink, realizing I've zoned out again. "Sorry, just lost in thought."

"Well, snap out of it," Magnolia teases. "This is supposed to be fun, remember?"

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