Page 98 of Fearless

Mercy didn’t twitch. It didn’t matter that Ghost was his vice president. Right now, he was all Ava’s. If she said go, he’d gut Mason like a deer, no matter what his VP said.

Pattering of feet: Ainsley and Beau making a run for it.

Tussle of voices: reinforcements, more than just her parents. At least one snatch of English accent that she picked out as Walsh. The others were a blur.

“Mercy.”

Still nothing, just Mercy’s big body poised and waiting, under her arms. She felt the steady thump of his pulse through his back. This was what he did. This was his wheelhouse. All he needed was her say-so.

“Ava,” Ghost said, voice taking on a new tension, a foreign strain she’d never heard before. Slow, biting off each word: “Call him off.”

She was fading. She could feel consciousness slipping away from her, as the blood kept pouring from between her legs.

She stroked trembling fingers through Mercy’s hair. She loved his hair, black and slick and too-long. “Felix,” she said, voice a breathless tremor. “That’s enough.”

And then she collapsed.

Carter heard the sirens, faint and faraway, growing closer. He was too far back from the crumbling front door of Hamilton House to see anything clearly; all he knew was that Ainsley and Beau were fading into the weeds out back, nothing but flashes of sneaker soles as they sprinted away into the night. And he knew that something terrible had happened – was happening – to Ava. And that Mason was crying noisily, and that Mercy was being called off like a dog.

“Felix.” Ava’s voice was floaty with strain. “That’s enough.”

There were wide splashes of shadow on the floor that Carter knew to be blood. He had no idea what had happened to Mason, but he didn’t care. The bastard deserved it.

And then a thought struck him, as the siren screams intensified. He turned to the nearest Dog, Aidan’s friend with all the earrings, and grabbed at his sleeve. “You guys have to get out of here. The cops…”

Tango’s eyes widened; they were an eerie color in the dark. “Yeah. Right.” He glanced toward the door. Mercy was upright, on his feet, cradling Ava in his arms. She was unconscious, and the anguish in the huge man’s face was something Carter wasn’t going to forget for a long time. “But Ava…”

Maggie snapped around, wiping tears, her face set and grim. “He’s right,” she said, to the gathered Dogs. “You boys have to go. “I’ll stay here with Ava, wait for the paramedics.” Her complexion was bright white, red lips vivid as they pressed together into a trembling line. “Carter will stay with me, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded automatically. He had no idea what they’d tell the EMTs, but that wasn’t the point.

Maggie’s husband, Ava’s father, stood rooted. “No.”

“Yes!” Maggie slapped at his chest. “Go. Walk out, be quiet, we’ll ride with her to the hospital. I can lie to the cops; I’m a pro with that.”

“I know.” Ghost sighed, his breath laced with anger and tension and worry.

“She’s bleeding,” Mercy said. “Jesus Christ…”

Maggie went toward him, laid a gentle hand on his large forearm. “Give her to me, sweetie. Come on, it’s fine.”

Mercy lowered her to the floor like it was the last thing in the world he wanted. Maggie knelt, made a pillow of her knees for Ava’s head, and stroked her daughter’s hair, hands shaking.

“Fine.” Ghost snapped his fingers. “Bring him.”

Aidan and Tango rushed forward, and to Carter’s shock, gathered Mason up roughly between them, dragging him toward the door.

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Aidan told him, twisting his arm. “Or I’ll kick you out of the back on the way.”

Suddenly the van made sense to Carter, why Aidan and Tango hadn’t come on their bikes.

“What-what are you going to do to him?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ghost said, spinning to face him. “You” – finger aimed at his chest – “one wrong move, and I’ll kill you myself, understand?”

Carter managed a nod.

“Come in here,” Maggie called to him, “and we’ll get our stories right.”

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