Chapter 3 Cash
CASH
The ride to the hospital is pure torture. Mercy’s arms lock around my waist, her body pressed tight against my back. All I can think about is her spread out on that table—how fucking close I was to knowing what she sounds like when she comes.
Her thighs grip my hips as I take a corner. I grit my teeth against the images flooding my brain.
Five more minutes. Five fucking minutes and I would have had my mouth on her, would have tasted her, made her come apart on my tongue.
I’ve been patient for months, watching, waiting for her to stop running from what we both know is going to happen. Tonight was supposed to be the night I finally took what I wanted.
What we both wanted.
The hospital parking garage is chaos. Bikes and trucks scatter everywhere as the brothers converge. I cut the engine. Mercy slides off behind me. When I turn, she won’t meet my eyes.
She’s already pulling back, gaze fixed anywhere but on me.
Not fucking happening.
I’ve let her set the pace long enough. She wanted me tonight. I had her wet and ready on that table. And one phone call isn’t going to erase that.
“Do you know what floor maternity is on?”
“Fifth,” I say, the word clipped. I swing my leg over the side, the bike groaning under the shift.
My hand finds hers. I lace our fingers together and pull her toward the concrete elevator bay.
The contact is a jolt, a reminder of her skin under my hands, her mouth moving against mine.
The promise I made her hangs between us.
This isn’t over. She can get skittish all she wants, but it’s my fucking mantra now.
The elevator doors slide open with a quiet ding. Empty car. I pull her inside and the doors shut, sealing us in the small, mirrored space.
“Cash,” she starts, her voice laced with an apology I don’t want to hear. “About before, I—”
I don’t let her finish. She’s going to try to rationalize, pretend what we had was just heat and nothing more.
Fuck that.
I slam the button for the fifth floor and push her back against the cool steel wall. My mouth crashes down on hers.
It’s not gentle. It’s a reminder. A promise. I’ve been patient, I’ve waited, but I’m done waiting. I swallow her gasp. My hand tangles in her wild red hair, tilting her head back to give me better access. This is mine. She is mine. And this is just the beginning.
The elevator dings on the ground floor. We spring apart just as the doors open. An elderly couple shuffles in. The woman gives us a knowing smile that makes Mercy’s cheeks go pink.
“Young love,” the woman whispers to her husband, loud enough for us to hear. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
The husband looks between us. His eyes clock my cut and the tattoos on both Mercy’s and my arms. He turns away with a disapproving grunt.
I catch Mercy’s eye and bite back a grin at her mortified expression. The couple gets off on the first floor. The second the doors close, I have her back against the wall.
“Where were we?” I ask, nipping at her bottom lip.
“Cash, we shouldn’t—”
“We should,” I correct, my mouth trailing down her throat to that spot where I marked her earlier. “We absolutely fucking should.”
Her protest dies on a soft moan as I run the tip of my tongue over the bruised patch of skin.
Mine.
The possessive thought hits me hard, unexpected in its intensity. I’ve wanted plenty of women. Taken what I wanted, given them pleasure, stayed in control. But this? This feels like something I can’t quite get a grip on. Something that might get a grip on me instead.
I shove the thought aside. I’m in control here. Always.
The elevator dings again—fifth floor, maternity ward—and we break apart, both breathing hard. Her lips are swollen, her hair mussed, and she looks thoroughly kissed.
Perfect.
“Later,” I promise as the doors open and she puts a safe amount of space between us.
The waiting area is packed with Stoneheart family.
Bones paces a groove in the linoleum, muttering under his breath about how long labor is supposed to take.
Duck sits stoically in the corner, his old lady Maggie knitting something tiny and yellow.
Hawk stands by the windows like a sentinel, phone in hand, checking for updates from Axel in the delivery suite.
We try to look casual as we approach the group, but I’m pretty sure everyone can tell we’ve been up to something.
“Any news?” Mercy asks, settling beside Kya.
“Still waiting.” Kya’s voice drops. “Interesting entrance you two made.”
I grab the top magazine from the stack and pretend to read.
Mercy’s cheeks go pink. “We just happened to arrive at the same time.”
“Uh-huh.” Kya shoots me a look, and I suddenly find an article about hospital food innovations fascinating. “And I suppose that hickey on your neck is from running into a door?”
Mercy’s hand flies to her throat. “Kya!”
“I’m just saying, if you two are going to sneak around, you might want to invest in some concealer.”
I bite back a grin, still staring at the magazine.
Leave it to Kya to call her out immediately.
Bones finally stops pacing and drops into the chair next to mine. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, brother. Really what I needed to hear.”
“You’re welcome. I meant it as a compliment.”
“Of course you did.”
He claps me on the shoulder. A silent acknowledgement that he sees right through me, the same way he has since the night he dragged my sorry ass off the street and into the club’s world.
Back when I was sixteen. Bones taught me to take control of my life, to never let anyone use me again.
To take what I wanted instead of letting it be taken from me.
And what I want is sitting ten feet away, pretending she didn’t just melt against me in the elevator. Moan for me back at the bar. I’m done being patient. Done waiting for her to come to me. Tonight proved she wants this as much as I do.
I glance in her direction. She’s laughing at something Ginger is saying, but it’s strained. Her hand lingers at her throat. My cock twitches. She’s thinking about it. Thinking about me. About what we almost did.
The elevator opens again and our president steps out, followed by the club lawyer. Josie Bright looks impeccable as always—not a hair out of place, her suit perfectly pressed—but there’s an energy to her tonight, a softness I don’t usually see.
Stone, on the other hand, looks like he’s been running his hands through his hair. Rumpled. Restless. There’s a charge between them, impossible to miss, even in a room this crowded.
Guess I’m not the only one coming apart at the seams tonight.
“Jesus,” Lee mutters from across the room. “Everyone’s getting laid but us.”
Kya elbows him in the ribs. “We got laid three hours ago.”
“That was three hours ago. I have needs.”
I’m still pretending to read—this time about hospital renovations—but laughter threatens. At least Lee’s honest about his priorities.
Bones nudges my shoulder while everyone else catches up. “Wanna tell me what’s going on between you and that one?” He nods toward Mercy. “Lee’ll have your balls if you screw over his old lady’s best worker.”
“I’m not gonna screw her over.” My voice comes out low, tight. The words taste like a lie, because what I want to do to her is anything but respectable. “And Lee knows better than to get between me and what’s mine.”
“What’s yours?” Bones raises a brow. “That’s…new. Is she aware?”
“She’s getting there.” My gaze drifts to where she’s deep in conversation with Kya. “She’s just…complicated.”
Bones snorts. “Story of my life. Just be careful, brother. Don’t mistake a good fuck for something more.”
“No mistake, Bones. It’s more.”
Saying it costs me something I don’t want to examine too closely. More means complications. More means she could get under my skin in ways I don’t normally allow.
But I’ve been watching her for months, and she’s not like the others. She doesn’t look at me like I’m something to use. She looks at me like I’m a man.
Bones studies me for a long beat, then gives a slow nod. He knows what that means to me—being seen as more than the pretty face too many people mistook for an invitation.
I turn my attention back to the magazine, but the words blur. I can’t focus on anything but her.
“How long have you all been here?” Josie’s voice cuts through the low hum of conversation.
“Since about ten last night,” Bones answers, both of us turning our attention to where she sits on the other side of Kya now. “Axel called when Poppy’s water broke, and here we are.”
“It’s sweet,” Josie says. “The way you all show up for each other.”
“That’s what family does,” Duck says from his corner. “Show up.”
Something about the word ‘family’ causes the energy to shift.
Josie’s professional mask slips. A flicker that looks a lot like longing crosses her face before it’s gone, replaced by a polite, distant smile.
My eyes cut to Mercy. She’s gone still, her smile from moments before vanished.
It’s the same look I see on her face at the bar, when she’s in the middle of a shift and her phone buzzes.
The look of a hunted animal. One that says the word ‘family’ means something sharp and dangerous to her.
A look I know too well.
The need to fuck her senseless is replaced by something colder, deadlier—the urge to destroy whatever put that expression on her face.
My knuckles go white on the edge of the magazine, the paper crinkling under the pressure. I want to cross the room, pull her into my arms, and demand the name of the bastard who hurt her.
But before I can move, a harsh, buzzing vibration cuts through the quiet waiting room. Everyone’s head snaps toward the sound. It’s coming from Hawk. He pulls his phone from his pocket and answers it immediately, his expression intense as he listens.
“Yeah… OK… we’ll be right there.”