Page 109 of Fearless

“Sit down,fillette.” He gestured to the couch, which was still in place. The bookshelves under the window behind it, though, were stripped bare. It was an unsettling sight.

“Okay…” She perched on the edge, hands folded together in her lap. “What’s up?”

Mercy came to sit beside her, his movements deliberate and slow, like he was in physical pain. He sat close, so their arms touched, and he looked at her face for a long moment, naked longing etched in his features. Ava didn’t speak, transfixed by the rapture in him, the way he watched her, the way he traced every detail of her face; she felt his eyes on her eyes, on her nose, her brows, the curves of her lips. She shivered. And then he reached up and placed one large hand on the top of her head. He touched her like that, his demeanor reverent, and then he withdrew and stood.

“Mercy.” Her voice was breathless now. “What’s the matter?”

His cut was hanging off the doorknob, on the inside of the front door, and he plucked it up, shrugged into it. When he faced her, he did so decorated with all his patches, the stains and scars in the old leather. And his face hardened. The worship, the sweetness, the tenderness – all replaced by a professional steel. This was Mercy the extractor. Mercy the club man, the Lean Dog. Not her companion and protector, her lover and friend.

Ava felt her heart become a drum inside her chest, beating out a dire rhythm.Danger.Danger.

“I’m going back to New Orleans,” he said. “I’m moving back there.”

Her brain refused to compute that. “You hate New Orleans.”

“I’m heading out first thing in the morning.”

“But…you hate New Orleans.”

“Bob down there says he has work for me.”

“You love Knoxville,” she insisted. “You have workhere.”

Mercy gave her one long, flat look. “I’mleaving, Ava.”

It hit her then. She surged to her feet. Her voice trembled. “You’re leavingme, you mean, right?”

“Ghost brought me in to keep you safe. You don’t need me anymore.”

“Yes I do! You know I do.” She stepped toward him, reaching out with both hands, and Mercy turned his shoulder to her and staved her off with a raised hand. “Mercy, Iloveyou.” She grabbed his hand, but didn’t have the strength to curl his fingers down around hers. When he didn’t move, the shock began to turn to anger. “Are you – are you going to stand there and pretend that everything between you and me is just about protection?”

“Everything between you and me isdisgusting,” he said, his voice awful. “And it’s a mistake.”

Hot tears burned her eyes. “No it’s not!” she screamed, surprising him, and herself. “Don’t say that!”

She launched herself at him, in a fury, not sure if she wanted to claw him or throw her arms around him.

Mercy caught her by the shoulders and held her back, gave her a little shake. “Stop it.”

“No.” She grabbed at his hands, sinking her nails into his skin. “Why are you doing this?” Her voice cycled from irate to anguished, pleading. “Is it because I got pregnant? You didn’t want a baby with me?” The tears flooded her eyes. “We’ll be more careful, from now on. I’ll get on the pill. We can use condoms…Mercy…” Deep, shuddering breath. “You’re leaving? You’re leaving…you’releaving…”

Through the blur of tears, she saw his mask crumble, saw her own torture reflected back to her, in his face.

“Don’t, don’t, don’t,” he murmured, caving and pulling her into him, wrapping his arms around her. His voice, soft and broken: “Fillette, don’t.”

Ava pressed her face into his shirt, fisted the halves of his cut, trying to burrow as deeply into him as possible. Her shock came loose, all that frigid disinterest, the false acceptance; she ripped to bits, her seams coming undone all at once, and sobbed, utterly heartbroken.

“Our baby,” she whispered. “Felix, he killed our baby.”

“I know.” He stroked her hair, kissed her forehead. “I know.”

She was dimly aware of moving her feet, and realized he’d steered her to the couch when her knees bent and it rushed up to catch her. She leaned into Mercy, letting the sobs shake her because there was no stopping them.

“Don’t leave me,” she begged. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want. Please, please don’t leave.”

He cleared his throat, a low, guttural sound. “I have to, sweetheart. You’ll thank me for it one day.”

“No.” She closed her eyes against fresh tears. “No, no, no.Please.”

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