Page 55 of Mercy

It's comforting, but it's not enough to dull the ache in my chest.

With a gentle push, I take a step out of her embrace.

My eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and I run a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over me. "I'm gonna be all right," I say, more to convince myself than Fern. "Just gotta get through the next couple days."

When I open my eyes, Fern's watching me with a mixture of concern and understanding.

She nods slowly, her gaze never leaving my face. "Of course you will be. You're strong, Tor. But it's okay to not be okay right now."

I swallow hard, fighting against the lump in my throat. "Yeah, well, I don't have much choice, do I?"

Fern reaches out, her hand resting on my arm. "Is there anything I can do?" she asks, her voice soft and sincere.

I consider her question for a moment, my mind racing.

What I really want is to forget—to erase the memory of Meghan's face, the sound of her voice when she told me it was over.

But I know that's not possible.

Instead, I settle for the next best thing.

"Give me shit to do," I say, my voice rough. "Anything. Just... keep me busy. I need to get this off my mind."

A small smile tugs at the corner of Fern's mouth. "That, I can do," she says, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. "There's always plenty to do around the club. Come on."

"You know," Fern says as I follow her, "Magnus just finished a new piece. Wait till you see it—it's incredible."

I nod, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. "Yeah? What'd he make this time?"

"It's a sculpture of Freya," she explains, her voice echoing slightly in the hallway. "You should see how he captured her eyes—it's like they follow you around the room."

As we walk through the clubhouse, the guys all start to get my attention.

Ivar, his long beard braided intricately as always, strides over with a grin on his face. "Tor! Didn't expect to see you back so soon," he says, clasping my shoulder. His eyes dart around, searching. "Where's that firecracker of yours? Don't tell me you're letting her wander Tallahassee alone."

The question hits me like a sucker punch to the gut.

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Meg's not here," I manage to get out, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. "She's not... we're not... I'm solo again."

The words hang in the air, heavy and final.

Ivar's face falls, and I can see the concern etching itself into the lines around his eyes.

Before he can say anything, though, Kraken's booming voice cuts through the sudden silence.

"Solo, huh?" he says, slapping me hard on the back.

The impact nearly knocks the wind out of me, but I manage to stay upright. "Well, brother, you know what that means. Time to drink your pain away and get some fresh pussy!"

I force a weak smile, but inside, I'm seething.

Fresh pussy?

As if any woman could replace Meghan.

As if I even want to try.

The very thought of being with someone else makes me feel sick.

---