Mercy (Raiders of Valhalla MC: New Blood)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Meghan

The sterile scent of disinfectant invades my nostrils as I fold the last of my t-shirts, cramming it into the duffel bag on my hospital bed.

My hands tremble slightly, betraying the anxiety bubbling beneath my calm exterior.

Freedom is so close I can taste it, but the thought of returning to the clubhouse sends a chill down my spine.

I zip up the bag with more force than necessary, the harsh sound echoing in the quiet room.

My gaze drifts to the window, where golden afternoon light streams in, painting patterns on the linoleum floor.

It's a beautiful day to start fresh, to leave this place behind.

A soft knock on the door frame startles me from my thoughts.

I turn, expecting to see Esperanza's kind smile or Skadi's fierce grin.

Instead, my jaw nearly hits the floor when I spot Fern, the President's ol' lady, and Tor's step-mother, standing in the doorway.

I manage to squeak out, my voice betraying my surprise, "Fern?"

She steps into the room, her presence commanding as always.

"Hey, Meghan. Thought you could use a hand getting out of here."

I blink rapidly, trying to process this unexpected turn of events.

"I... thanks. I wasn't expecting you."

Fern's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Clearly. You look like you've seen a ghost."

I force out a chuckle, running a hand through my ashy blonde hair. "Sorry, I just... I figured it'd be Esperanza or Skadi."

"They were both tied up with club business," Fern explains, her eyes scanning the room. "You about ready to go?"

I nod, gesturing to my packed bag. "Yeah, just finished up."

Fern moves to pick up the duffel, but I quickly reach for it first.

"I've got it," I insist, putting it over my lap.

The weight of it makes me readjust slightly. My body's still not quite at full strength.

Fern raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment.

Instead, she asks, "How are you feeling about heading back?"

God, what a question.

The truth is, I don’t know how I feel about it.

I swallow hard, considering my response.

How do I tell the President's ol' lady that the thought of returning to the clubhouse fills me with dread?

That every time I close my eyes, I see LeAnn's face, twisted with hatred as she brought that ball down on my head?

I lie, plastering on a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "I'm... looking forward to seeing everyone."

Fern's piercing gaze tells me she's not buying it, but she doesn't push. "Well, they're certainly looking forward to seeing you. Especially Tor."

At the mention of Tor's name, my heart does a little flip in my chest.

Images of his bottle-green eyes and that crooked smile flash through my mind, bringing a genuine warmth to my face.

"How's he doing?" I ask, unable to keep the concern from my voice. "I know he was released before me, but..."

Fern's expression softens slightly. "He's healing well. Stubborn as always, trying to do more than he should."

I can't help but laugh at that. "Sounds like Tor."

One of my nurses, Marcie, comes in and greets the two of us. "You ready to get the hell out of this joint?"

I laugh, appreciating her humor. "You have no idea."

She walks around the back of me and puts her hands on the wheelchair, starting to push me forward. "Okie dokie, then let's go before they find another reason to keep you locked up in here."

As we make our way out of the room, I cast one last glance around the space that's been my home for the past few weeks.

The blank walls and empty bed seem to mock me, reminding me of the long, lonely nights spent here, drifting in and out of consciousness.

We head down the hallway in silence, the squeaking of the wheels on the polished floor being the only sound.

My mind races, trying to reconcile the conflicting emotions warring inside me.

On one hand, I'm desperate to see Tor again, to lose myself in the comfort of his presence.

On the other, the thought of stepping foot in the clubhouse makes my palms sweat and my heart race.

As we reach the elevator, Fern breaks the silence. "You know, Meghan, if there's anything you need to talk about..."

I press the down button, perhaps a bit too forcefully. "I'm fine, really. Just ready to get out of here."

Fern nods, but I can feel her eyes on me as we step into the elevator.

The doors slide shut, and I watch the numbers tick down, each floor bringing me closer to a world I'm not sure I belong in anymore.

"Tor's been asking about you," Fern says casually as we reach the ground floor. "Every day, in fact."

My heart skips a beat at her words, and I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face. "Really?"

Fern chuckles. "Don't act so surprised. That boy's been smitten with you since you two shared a room."

Marcie chimes in, "I'm not surprised to hear that in the least bit. The man might be a flirt, but he's got his eyes on someone special."

I feel a blush creeping up my neck. "We're just friends," I mutter, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know they're not entirely true.

What Tor and I have... it's complicated, undefined, but definitely more than friendship.

As we step out into the bright sunlight, I squint, shielding my eyes.

The world seems almost too vibrant after weeks spent in the muted tones of the hospital.

I take a deep breath, savoring the fresh air that fills my lungs.

Fern leads us to a sleek black SUV parked in the pick-up zone.

As she opens the passenger door for me, I hesitate, my grip tightening on the strap of my bag.

Fern asks, her brow furrowed in concern, "Everything okay?"

I force myself to nod. "Yeah, just... a lot to process, I guess."

Marcie takes my bag and puts it in the backseat while Fern starts to help me get up.

The two ladies work together to help me rise up into the seat, but honestly, I could have done it without them.

I might still be sore but I'm not totally incapacitated.

As Fern slides into the driver's seat, I stare out the window, watching the hospital shrink in the side mirror.

Part of me wants to ask her to turn around, to take me anywhere but the clubhouse.

But where would I go?

The club is all I have.

"You know," Fern says as she navigates through traffic, "it's okay to be nervous about going back."

I turn to look at her, surprised by her perceptiveness. "I'm not... I mean, I?—"

She cuts me off with a gentle laugh. "Meghan, honey, I've been around long enough to know when someone's putting on a brave face."

I slump in my seat, feeling suddenly exposed. "Is it that obvious?"

Fern shrugs. "Only to someone who's been there. We've all had our moments of doubt, of wondering if this life is really for us."

Her words hang in the air between us, and I find myself studying her.

Fern has always been something of an enigma to me—the President's ol' lady, a position of power and respect, yet somehow removed from the day-to-day chaos of club life.

She and Charm run a spa and for the most part, that takes up their time.

She’s also been through things I wouldn’t ever imagine on my worst enemy.

"How do you do it?" I ask softly. "How do you live with the constant danger, the uncertainty?"

Fern is quiet for a long moment, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

When she finally speaks, her voice is thoughtful. "You find something worth fighting for. Something that makes all the risks, all the fear, worth it."

I think of Tor, of the way his green eyes light up when he smiles, of the gentle touch of his hand on mine during those long nights in the hospital.

Is he my something worth fighting for?

"And what if..." I start, then pause, unsure how to voice the doubts swirling in my mind. "What if you're not sure you're strong enough?"

Fern glances at me, a knowing look in her eyes. "Strength isn't about never being afraid, Meghan. It's about facing those fears head-on."

I nod, letting her words sink in. As we turn onto the familiar street leading to the clubhouse, I feel my pulse quicken. The sight of the imposing building looming ahead sends a shiver down my spine.

"Fern," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, "what if I can't do this?"

She pulls into the parking lot and turns off the engine before facing me fully. "Listen to me, Meghan. You survived a vicious attack. You fought your way back from a coma. You're one of the strongest women I know."

Her words bring unexpected tears to my eyes.

I blink them back, not wanting to smear my makeup before seeing everyone.

"But if you decide this isn't the life for you," Fern continues, her tone serious, "know that you have options. The club takes care of its own, even if they choose to leave."

I stare at her, stunned by the offer in itself.

Before I can respond, movement near the clubhouse catches my eye.

My breath catches in my throat as I spot a familiar figure emerging from the shadows.

Tor.

He stands there, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, his dark hair tousled by the breeze.

Even from this distance, I can see the intensity in his green eyes as they land on me.

I swallow hard, trying to calm the flutter in my chest at the sight of him.

His presence both comforts and unnerves me, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions I'm not ready to face.

Fern follows my gaze and a knowing smile crosses her face. "Why don't we head inside?" she suggests gently. "Everyone's eager to see you."

I nod, unable to find my voice.

As we exit the SUV, Fern touches my arm lightly. "How are you holding up, sweetie?" she asks, her eyes filled with genuine concern.

I take a deep breath, deciding to be honest. "I'm freaking out, Fern," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "Being back here, as a clubwhore, as a hóra ... especially after what happened with LeAnn. I don't know if I can do this."

Fern's face softens with understanding. "Oh, honey," she says, pulling me into a warm embrace. "What LeAnn did to you was horrible, but it was a one-off thing. That's not how women in the club usually treat each other."

I pull back, searching her face for any sign of deception.

"Really?" I ask, hating how small and vulnerable I sound.

"Really," Fern affirms. "We look out for each other here. What LeAnn did... it goes against everything we stand for."

I want to believe her.

God, how I want to believe her.

But as I glance toward the clubhouse, memories of LeAnn's betrayal flood my mind.

"There was a time when I thought LeAnn was my friend," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "I never imagined she'd hurt me, let alone put me in a coma."

Fern squeezes my hand. "I know, sweetheart. Trust is hard to rebuild after something like that. But give us a chance to show you that not everyone here is like LeAnn."

I nod, but internally, I'm not so sure.

How can I trust anyone here when the person I considered a friend nearly killed me?

The weight of uncertainty settles heavily on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Let's just take it one step at a time," Fern says, gently guiding me toward the clubhouse. "You don't have to make any decisions right now."

As we approach, I can't help but notice how Tor's eyes never leave me.

There's something in his gaze that makes my heart race, a mix of concern and something deeper that I'm afraid to name.

I force a smile, trying to project a confidence I don't feel.

One step at a time, I remind myself.

That's all I can handle right now.

Fern's phone chimes, breaking the spell.

She glances at it, then back at me. "Sorry, kiddo. Duty calls. I need to handle something," She gives me a quick hug. "Make yourself at home, Meghan. We'll catch up later."

As she disappears inside, I'm suddenly aware that Tor and I are alone.

The realization sends a flutter through my stomach that has nothing to do with fear.

"So," Tor says, setting my bags down. "How are you really feeling? And don't give me that 'I'm fine' bullshit."

His tone is light, but I can hear the genuine concern underneath.

I laugh, but it comes out shaky. "That obvious, huh?"

I run a hand through my hair, buying time. "Honestly? I'm terrified," I admit, surprising myself with the honesty. "Being back here... it's a lot."

Tor nods, his expression understanding. "I get it. After what happened with LeAnn... anyone would be scared."

He takes a step closer, and I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. "But you're one of the strongest people I know, Meg. You've got this."

His faith in me is both comforting and overwhelming.

I want to believe him, want to be that strong person he sees.

But the doubts are still there, whispering in the back of my mind.

"What if I don't?" I whisper, voicing the fear that's been haunting me since I woke up in the hospital. "What if I can't do this anymore?"

I search Tor's face, looking for any sign of judgment, but all I see is warmth and understanding.

It gives me the courage to ask, "How are you feeling, by the way? I mean, you got out before me, so you must be doing pretty good, right?"

Tor grins that cocky smile that always makes my heart skip a beat. "Oh, you know me. Tough as nails. Takes more than a little bullet to keep me down."

I can't help it.

I playfully punch his arm, careful not to hit him too hard.

He might not have gotten shot in the arm, but I don't actually want to hurt him. "Show-off," I tease, but there's a hint of genuine annoyance in my voice. "I can't believe you beat me out of there."

He laughs, rubbing his arm in mock pain. "Hey now, don't be jealous. If you wanted to get out sooner, you should've taken my advice and flirted with the nurses a bit more. Works wonders, trust me."

The absurdity of his suggestion, coupled with the mental image of me trying to sweet-talk the stern-faced nurses, hits me all at once.

I burst into laughter, real, genuine laughter that bubbles up from deep inside me.

It feels good, like something's finally loosening in my chest after being wound tight for so long.

I lean against Tor, my hand on his shoulder as I try to catch my breath.

He's solid and warm, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the closeness. "God, I missed this," I say, not entirely meaning to speak the words out loud.

Tor's expression softens, and he reaches up to squeeze my hand on his shoulder. "We all missed you, Meg. It hasn't been the same without you around."

His words bring me crashing back to reality.

The club.

Everyone inside.

My laughter fades, and I can feel the tension creeping back into my body.

Tor must sense the change because he says, "Hey, why don't we head in? Say hi to everyone? I know Starla's been dying to see you."

I nod, trying to summon up some enthusiasm. "Yeah, sure. Let's do it."

As we approach the door, I can hear the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter from inside.

Tor puts his hand on the small of my back, a gentle, reassuring touch that sends a shiver up my spine.

"Ready?" he asks.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "As I'll ever be."

Tor pushes open the door, and I step inside.

For a split second, everything goes quiet, and then?—

"Welcome home, Meghan!" The chorus of voices hits me like a physical force, and I stumble back slightly, overwhelmed by the sea of familiar faces grinning at me.

As Tor steadies me with a hand on my elbow, I paste on a smile, hoping it looks more genuine than it feels.

Welcome home, indeed.

If only I was sure this still felt like home.