Page 42 of Begging for Mercy
“Little Wright,” Grey greets cheerily. “Rock on. What do you need?”
“I need to track a vehicle that just left the Morningstar Mortuary’s lot. It might be a motorcycle. Can you pull up the traffic cams?”
Grey is silent, but I can hear him typing on a keyboard. “Black hot rod, yeah. It’s headed across town by the looks of it. Want me to?—”
“Send me the feed, yeah. Can you lock on and send me updated coordinates?”
“Sure, Boss. Need backup?”
I consider it for half a second before shaking my head. “No, I want to handle this myself.”
Because if Reaper hurts a single hair on her head, I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
Chapter 15
Zane
I’m hanging stringlights in the rafters of the ancient church when I hear a roaring engine tear down the Morningstar driveway, kicking up dust and rocks without a second thought. Peering out the hole in the roof, I damn near fall off my ladder as Kane swings his leg over the seat of his motorcycle and bounds up Mercy’s front porch steps. I’ve told him to sell that thing a dozen times, but he refuses to listen, citing that he’s here for a good time, not a long time.
He’s going to send me to an early grave before he’s even dead.
Sighing, I abandon my task and descend the rungs of the ladder, making it outside the church just in time to witness Kane present a bouquet of roses to Mercy. From my vantage point through her window, it’s hard to discern her reaction, but Kane’s smile is pinched.
Something is bothering him.
They spend an exorbitant amount of time in her bedroom before he picks her up, tosses her over his shoulder, and bounds down the stairs and out of the house.
“Zane!” He’s back to grinning as he smacks Mercy’s ass atop his shoulder. She yelps like a dog and slams her knee into Kane’s collarbone. “You’re just in time for our date.”
Date?
Dropping her onto his bike seat, he grabs the spare helmet and gently pulls it over the top of her head, then snaps it in place. “Hold onto me,” he instructs, “and lean into the turns.”
Mercy slams her hands against Kane’s chest. “I’m not going anywhere with you!” Her gaze flicks from Kane’s face to mine, and I catch a glimmer of fear in her eyes. “I—I already have a date.”
Don’t you dare?—
“With Zane.” Forcing a smile, she uses Kane’s stunned silence to slip from his grasp. “He agreed to go out with me and Sam tonight.” She unsnaps her helmet and tosses it to the ground at Kane’s feet before coming to stand beside me. Resting her forearm on my shoulder, she tosses her curtain of hair over her shoulder. “Sorry, you weren’t invited.”
“She’s—she’s lying!” I sputter, alarm bells ringing in my head. “I never agreed to go out with her!”
If Kane gets jealous, I’m fucked. Royally fucked. In the ass. With no lube. Torn right down the middle of my cra?—
“Zanie,” Mercy whines childishly, frowning a little too dramatically to be taken seriously. “I know you’re shy, but you don’t need to lie. What we have is real.” She takes my hand and links our fingers together, smiling cheekily at Kane as he finally turns around. “The least you can do is take me to dinner now that we’ve been to third base.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Kane’s a little too relaxed, his smile matching Mercy’s. Fake as hell. “Alright, beautiful. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you go out with both of us, and we’ll decide who gets to take you to home plate over dinner.”
No, no, no!
“I’m not sleeping with her!”
Neither of them is listening, too content with grinning viciously at each other to pay any attention to me. Like wolves, they size each other up like they’re eying pieces of meat and neither of them has had a meal in weeks.
Kane has spent the past three days ignoring Mercy, and now, all of a sudden, he shows up with roses and demands for a date? “You saw the video feed,” I surmise, pressing my lips together into a firm line. The fucker gets off on breaking through my security measures and gloating about it. I’m surprised it took him this long to show his hand.
“Bingo.”
