Page 168 of Fearless

Gang War in Knoxvilleit read, in huge print above a photo of the burning mattress store.

“They’re blaming us,” Ghost said. “To turn the whole city against us.”

“They so torched the place themselves,” Aidan said, and everyone murmured an agreement.

“I knew Larsen was reckless,” Collier said, face grim, “but I didn’t think he was this smart.”

“Smart?” Troy had deemed this an important enough reason to haul his arthritic ass out of bed and ride in to church. “That little shit ain’t smart. He’s got no evidence and nothing to point toward us.”

Ghost heaved his eyes skyward. “Prosecution isn’t the issue. What this is, is a PR nightmare. We don’t have to have done anything. If the civilians think we have, that’s enough to run us out of business and bring the feds in for a good sniffing-around.”

Troy waved away the concern. “The club’s survived worse.” “But it hasn’t thrived through worse,” Ghost said, tone growing harsh. “I don’t have a basement apartment to run back to when shit goes south, gramps. If Dartmoor sinks, I sink with it.” He cast a meaningful glance around the table. They’d all be sinking too, if it came to that.

“The problem is twofold,” Ratchet said, holding up the appropriate number of fingers. “Reputation repair, and threat elimination.”

“Mags said someone got to Ramona at the flower shop,” Ghost said. “Made some kinda threat; she doesn’t want to do business with any of us. I’m betting she’s not the only one who’s been visited. If people see that we can’t even damn shop on Main Street, that’s all the more incentive to stop bringing their business here.

“We’ve got to charm the hell outta this town,” he said, rolling his eyes again.

“Good thing you’re so charming,” Walsh said, straight-faced, and managed to earn a grin.

“We’ve gotta be visible,” Ratchet said, “and friendly. We need to do nice things.”

“Nice things?” Mercy said.

“Pulling cats outta trees,” Dublin said.

“Picking up hitchhikers,” Briscoe said.

“Things out of character for you, Merc,” Ghost said.

“Hey, I’m nice.”

“So are rattlesnakes. I want you, Michael, and Rottie working on the ‘threat elimination’ part of things. Hound, you help out where you can, but don’t go getting yourself hurt, old man.”

Hound made a displeased sound. “ ‘Old man.’ That’s all I am now to you losers.”

Tango leaned over and put an arm around his narrow shoulders. “Doesn’t mean we don’t love you, though.” He laughed as he was backhanded away.

“Alright.” Ghost made asettle downgesture. “Ratchet, what can we do charity-wise right now?”

As the secretary went down the list, Mercy let his mind wander. He shouldn’t – church was never anything to blow off – but since he’d been delegated to the kill squad, he didn’t much care how many hours everyone else was going to clock at the old folks’ home. He reflected on the moment beside Ava’s truck, and the lecture he hadn’t received.

Had Ghost finally come around? he wondered. If he had, then something told him Maggie had had a lot to do with it. How was that for incredible? The mother of the little girl giving him the green light. No, not just that: encouraging him. Maggie wasn’t normal, and for that, he was grateful.

“…like last time,” Michael was saying with a frown as Mercy refocused.

Ghost sighed. “That could have happened to any of the three of you. Let’s just call off the pissing contest, alright?”

Mercy shot a shit-eating grin across the foot of the table at Michael. “Oh, I dunno, boss. If Mikey wants to measure stuff…”

“Hey,” Ghost said, “don’t make me think about your dick any more than I absolutely have to.”

Aidan and Tango erupted in spontaneous laughter, and the rest of the table joined them, all save Michael.

Mercy felt the heat in his face and ducked his head over the table. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Michael,” Ghost said as the laughing died down, “Mercy is one of this club’s best guys. He’s theonlyextractor we’ve ever had. Learn to work together, because I need you both on this assignment. Understand?”

---