Chapter 10 Mercy
MERCY
“Fuck.” My knees lock. My lungs forget how to work.
He’s here. In my bar. In my sanctuary. In the one place I’ve felt safe for the past year.
He’s wearing his uniform like armor, like authority, like ownership. Same military-short brown hair. Same cold blue eyes that used to catalog my flaws every morning. Same thin-lipped mouth that would curl in disgust when I did anything he didn’t approve of.
My blood doesn’t just turn to ice. It stops moving entirely. Every cell in my body remembers him. Remembers shrinking. Remembers apologizing. Remembers being less, always less, never small enough to satisfy.
Cash is beside me before my brain catches up to the fact that this isn’t just another nightmare. His hand settles on my lower back, warm and solid and the only thing keeping me upright.
“Breathe, angel,” he murmurs, but his eyes never leave the cops.
Gabriel’s gaze sweeps the room first, cataloging the leather cuts, the weapons poorly concealed under jackets, the general air of ‘fuck with us and find out.’ His backup flanks him like they’re entering enemy territory, which I guess they are.
Then he looks at me.
His eyes lock onto mine, and two years disappear. I’m back in his kitchen, being weighed before breakfast. Back in his car, watching him check the mileage. Back in his bed, lying still and quiet because that’s what good wives do.
“Mercedes.” He says my name like he hates it. Like I’m the tantruming child he’s come to collect. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” Somehow my voice doesn’t waver.
He approaches the bar, his backup close by. “You look... different.”
“You mean healthy?” Kya appears at my other side, wiping her hands on a bar towel. “Yeah, that happens when women get away from toxic assholes.” She doesn’t know much about my marriage to Gabriel, but she knows that much.
His eyes narrow. “And you are?”
“The owner of this establishment.” Kya’s smile is sharp as glass. “Also her friend. Also someone who doesn’t appreciate cops harassing my staff during business hours.”
“I’m not harassing anyone. I’m stopping in to see my wife.”
“Ex-wife,” I correct.
“Not until the papers are signed,” he says, that reasonable tone that used to make me doubt myself. “Which won’t happen. You took vows, Mercedes. Promised to honor and obey.”
“And I’m sure you promised the same thing,” Cash spits. “But here you are, showing up like a fucking cunt when she’s made it clear she doesn’t want to speak to you.”
Gabriel finally looks at Cash properly, taking in the bandaged knuckles, the protective stance, the way his hand hasn’t left my back. “Let me guess. The rebound?”
“The upgrade,” Cash corrects.
One of Gabriel’s backup snorts. “Upgrade to what? Biker trash?”
The temperature in the bar drops ten degrees. Every MC member goes still—that dangerous kind of still that comes before violence. Hawk stands slowly from his booth. Axel sets down his pool cue. Even Duck cracks his knuckles.
“Gentlemen,” Lee says, appearing behind the bar with the kind of smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’d think real carefully about your next words. You’re outnumbered, off your turf, and insulting family.”
“Family?” Gabriel laughs. “She’s not your family. She’s my wife, and she’s obviously having some kind of mental break. Look at her—she’s gained at least forty pounds, covered herself in trashy tattoos, working in this dump—”
“That’s enough.” Kya’s voice cuts through his tirade. “You’re done here. Leave. Now.”
“Or what?” One of his buddies steps forward. “You’ll call the cops?”
“No,” Bones says from his corner table, not even looking up from his beer. “We handle our own problems.”
Gabriel’s backup exchange glances. They’re starting to realize they may have miscalculated. Three cops against a bar full of bikers isn’t great odds, badges or not.
“Mercedes,” Gabriel tries again, going for reasonable. “Come. We’ll talk. Privately.”
“She’s not a fucking dog. She isn’t going anywhere with you,” Cash states flatly.
“I wasn’t talking to you, boy.”
“Boy?” Cash laughs, but there’s zero humor in it. “I haven’t been a boy since I was twelve, and even then, I was running from predators a lot scarier than you.”
“Cash.” I put my hand on his arm, feeling the tension coiled there. The last thing we need is him getting arrested for assaulting a cop.
Gabriel notices the gesture, and his jaw tightens. “Is this what you left me for? Some pretty-boy criminal who probably can’t even spell commitment?”
I jump in before I can stop myself. “Better than a control freak who needed his wife to starve herself and never question him just to feed his ego.”
The words hang. Gabriel’s facade cracks, just for a second, and I see the rage underneath. The same rage that used to have me apologizing for breathing too loud.
“You need help, Mercedes. Professional help.” He pulls out his phone. “I can have you committed for evaluation. One call.”
“Try it,” Kya says. “I’ll have every lawyer in three counties here before you finish dialing.
Plus, I’m recording this entire interaction.
” She points to the cameras above the bar.
“Those record sound too. And threatening involuntary commitment because your ex-wife won’t come back to help with your tiny dick problems? That’ll look great in court.”
“Not to mention the stalking,” Cash adds. “Following her across state lines, showing up at her work, bringing backup to intimidate her. Pretty sure the feds have opinions about cops who abuse their power like that.”
Gabriel’s backup shifts uncomfortably. This isn’t what they signed up for.
“We should go,” one of them mutters.
But Gabriel isn’t done. “You think you’re safe here? With them? I’m not the only cop transferring to Stoneheart. We’re cleaning up this town, starting with the MC. And when we’re done, you’ll have nowhere to hide.”
“Is that a threat?” The voice comes from behind them — calm, heavy, dangerous. Stone. I hadn’t even heard him come in, but suddenly the MC president is there, and the entire dynamic shifts.
Gabriel turns. “Just stating facts.”
“Here’s a fact,” Stone says, his voice conversational but his eyes lethal. “Mercy Rogers is under the protection of the Stoneheart MC. That means anyone who threatens her, threatens us. And we don’t respond well to threats.”
“You’re threatening police officers?”
“I’m informing you of consequences.” Stone steps closer. “You want to clean up this town? Start with the real criminals. The ones Summit’s paying you to ignore while you harass innocent women.”
Gabriel’s face flushes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” Stone pulls out his phone, scrolls to something. “Interesting transfer you got. Fast-tracked by Summit’s people on the city council. Almost like they needed their own cops in place for something.”
The backup cops exchange another look. They definitely didn’t know the MC was aware of the Summit connection.
“We’re leaving,” one of them says, grabbing Gabriel’s arm. “Now.”
Gabriel shakes him off, his eyes locked on me. “This isn’t over, Mercedes. You’re sick, and I’m going to help you whether you want it or not.”
“The only sick one here is you,” I say, finding strength in the wall of leather and loyalty around me. “And if you come near me again, I’ll file a restraining order.”
“Good luck with that. I’m a cop.”
“And I’m done being afraid of you.” The words surprise me as much as him. “You don’t control me anymore, Gabriel. I never should have let you.”
And for the first time, he’s the one who looks small—a small, insecure man who needs to control others to feel powerful.
Then his backup is dragging him toward the door, muttering about not wanting to lose their payday over his personal drama.
“You’ll regret this,” he calls over his shoulder. “All of you.”
The door closes behind them. The entire bar is silent for a heartbeat.
Then Duck says, “Well, that was fun. Who wants shots?”
The tension breaks. People laugh, go back to their drinks, but I can feel the undercurrent of protectiveness. The MC just declared war for me. A nobody bartender who’s been pushing one of theirs away for months.
“You OK?” Cash asks softly, turning me to face him.
“No,” I admit, shaking. “Not even a little bit.”
Kya pulls me into a fierce hug. “We’ve got you, Merc. That asshole doesn’t know who he just fucked with.”
The instant Kya lets go, Cash steps in and speaks softly, just for me. “Looks like it’s not up to you anymore, angel.” He says it with an edge of humor, but there’s a hot, bright gravity underneath, like the air right before lightning strikes.
Instinct says to fight it, make some crack about how I never asked for a biker cavalry, but my adrenaline’s running on fumes now and for a moment I just let myself lean into him. His arms go around me so fast I almost miss the tremor in his hands. I know he’s furious, but all I feel is relief.
Gabriel thinks he won. Thinks he scared me.
But all he did was push me into the one thing I was trying to avoid—he got the MC involved. And as much as I didn’t want to drag them into this, now I know I’m not alone anymore.
I’ve got backup too. And mine’s a hell of a lot scarier than his.
“Come on,” Cash says, his voice gentle but firm. “Let’s lock up and get you out of here.”
“Want me to drive you home?” Kya asks, but Cash shakes his head.
“She’s coming with me.”
“Cash, I can walk—” I start.
“Are you fucking kidding me? After what just happened?” He takes my hands in his. “Hell no. No woman of mine is walking home in the cold when her stalker ex is after her.”
Outside, his bike waits in the cool December air.
This time when he hands me the helmet, it feels different.
The first time I rode with him, it was to the hospital when Rose was born, right after we almost had sex on one of the tables.
I spent the whole time berating myself for letting things go that far.
But this time… this time I’m... what? His to protect? His to claim? His woman?
“You remember how this works,” he says, and it’s not really a question.
I nod, shrugging into the big leather jacket he drops over my shoulders and settling in behind him. But this time when I wrap my arms around his waist, he covers my hands with one of his, squeezing gently.
“That’s my angel,” he murmurs, and the words send heat through me despite the cold.
The ride is different too. He takes the long way, and I know he’s checking for tails, making sure Gabriel isn’t following.
But it also feels like he’s showing me something—that I’m with him now, that the whole town can see me on the back of his bike, wearing his leather, my arms wrapped around him like I belong there.
Because maybe I do.
When we pull into the clubhouse, the others pull up beside us, several engines cutting as he helps me off, hands lingering on my waist.
“You’re staying here tonight.”
“I don’t have clothes, or—”
“We’ll figure it out.” His thumb strokes my hip. “But you’re not going back to that apartment. I don’t care how badass Mrs. Yu is with her baseball bat.”
I want to protest, but the idea of walking into that empty apartment, knowing Gabriel could show up there, makes my skin crawl. I look up at Cash, and all of my willful defiance drops. “OK.”
Inside, Cash leads me to his room without explanation, like it was never a question where I’d stay.
“Take the bed,” he says, already grabbing a pillow for himself. “I’ll take the couch.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I do,” he says. “First rule of protection detail: keep you safe. Even from bikers with pretty faces and great hair who can’t be trusted to keep their hands to themselves.”
Despite everything, I laugh. It’s shaky and probably a little hysterical.
“Get some sleep, angel,” he says softly.
“Cash.” I catch his arm before he can reach the door. “Thanks for having my back. I know we haven’t—”
“You’re mine now, Mercy.” He cups my face gently. “Part of the club. I’ve got you.” He drops a kiss on my head and slips out the door before I can try to stop him.
As I settle into his bed wearing his shirt, surrounded by his scent, I stare at the ceiling and try not to think about what Gabriel is doing right now. Who he’s calling. What lies he’s spinning. What threats he’s making.
Because if I know Gabriel—and I do—tomorrow, he’ll have a plan. And the Stoneheart MC has no idea what kind of devil they just invited to their door.