Page 37 of Burned in Stone
“I said back off,” Ginger stands, and despite being several inches shorter than Nitro, she looks dangerous. “Claimed is claimed, patch or no patch.”
“Since when?” Nitro challenges. “Club rules say?—”
“Club rules say you respect what’s been claimed in church,” Stone’s voice cuts through the tension. He’s standing in the doorway, Cash right behind him, and the temperature in the room drops ten degrees.
Cash’s expression is murderous. He walks past Stone, straight to Nitro, and without warning drives his fist into Nitro’s face. The crack echoes through the kitchen.
Nitro staggers back, hand going to his eye. “What the fuck?—”
14
MERCY
“Now you’ve got a matching set of shiners,” Cash says calmly, flexing his already-bandaged knuckles as he backs away from Nitro. “Anyone else need a reminder about respecting what’s mine?”
The room is dead silent. And I can’t help but notice that Andi and Poppy have left with the children.
My stomach drops. Not from fear—that’s the strangest part. When Gabriel lost his temper, my body locked down and I braced for the fallout I’d pay for. Cash isn’t like that. No high, no gloat. Just the hard exhale of someone who did what needed doing and would’ve preferred not to.
He hit a man because of me, and the old wiring tries to twist that into my fault. But his face is tight with restraint, not triumph. This isn’t a man who hurts to feel powerful. It’s a man who hurts so other men can’t. That difference matters.
I just hope my trauma-brain remembers it when guilt comes knocking.
“She didn’t have a patch,” Nitro protests, but he’s backing toward the door, his eye already swelling.
“She doesn’t need one.” Cash turns to face the room, making eye contact with every man present. “Mercy is with me. Anyone who disrespects her disrespectsme. And next time, I won’t stop at one punch.”
Stone steps aside to let Nitro stumble past. “Steel, get him some ice. Then find him something useful to do. Far from here.”
“Yes, sir.” Steel escorts Nitro out, who’s muttering curses but not stupid enough to retaliate.
Cash moves to me then, everything about him gentler as his hand settles on my lower back. “You OK?”
My pulse is still in the rafters. Not from fear, but from the awful, dizzy relief of someone steppingininstead of steppingback. I always assumed this kind of intensity would feel like a trap. Instead it feels like oxygen and I don’t know what to do with that.
“I’m good,” I say, wishing I sounded steadier.
He bends down to check my face, eyes searching for signs of distress. I expect him to lecture or apologize, but instead he tilts his head down, lips brushing my ear. “You want me to knock his teeth out too?”
I laugh, because the image of Nitro gumming hamburgers for the rest of his natural life is therapeutic. “Only if he tries to grab my ass,” I whisper back.
Cash’s eyes glint, sharp and amused. For a second the whole room just falls away. It’s stupid—a joke about dental damage shouldn’t make my knees feel weak—but here we are. His thumbghosts down my spine, a tiny territorial brand, and instead of shrinking, my body leans into the heat like it belongs there.
“Moving on,” Stone says, brushing past the weird energy of the room. “Mercy, no surprise after the display we just witnessed, but you’re officially under club protection. Anyone gives you trouble, they answer to all of us.”
“Even without a patch?” I ask quietly.
Stone’s expression softens slightly. “Patch is tradition. It’d help if you’d wear one—at least until everyone gets used to seeing you around. But you’re family now. And I doubt anyone will try and mess with you. Especially after word gets around about why Nitro has two black eyes. But…” He holds his hand out toward Maggie, who quickly reaches into a bag at her feet and pulls out a leather vest—a cut, black and butter-soft, smaller than the ones the men wear but just as substantial. Already sewn on the back are two rockers surrounding a Stoneheart MC patch.
PROPERTY OF CASH
STONEHEART MC
My mouth goes dry, because seeing it stitched—not theoretical—makes all the breath leave my body in one sudden rush.
Maggie hands it over with both hands, like she’s passing something sacred. Stone takes it, then offers it to Cash. “For when she’s ready.”
Cash takes the vest from Stone, his jaw tight and eyes cautious. He runs his fingers over the patch, the gesture almost tender. Then he looks at me, equal parts challenge and invitation, like he’s asking if I want this or if I’ll grab my bag and bolt over the idea of chaining myself to another man.
