Epilogue 2 - Mercy
Shouting from the gate announces Steel, Bones and Emma’s return.
Stone hits the door first, faster than I’ve ever seen. The rest of us pour out behind him—a tidal wave of leather and relief and barely controlled panic.
Steel’s already parked, Bones and Emma behind him. Before Bones fully stops, Emma’s off the back. She rips the helmet off.
She’s tiny—five-three in sneakers—with Stone’s dark hair in a messy bun, eyes that look like they’ve seen shit. Jeans filthy and torn at the knee, a scrape on her cheek, but she’s whole. She’s here.
Stone reaches her in three strides, pulls her into his chest so hard the air whooshes out. His shoulders shake. I look away. Seeing Stone break is too much.
“I’m OK, Dad,” Emma says, voice muffled against his cut. “I’m OK.”
“You better be.” His voice cracks. “You better be.”
They stay like that. Stone clutching his daughter like he’ll never let go, Emma letting him.
She pulls back, wipes her eyes. Lee hugs her fiercely. “You had us worried there, little sis.”
Emma turns to Bones, who’s leaning against his bike, arms crossed, looking like he just got back from groceries instead of whatever the hell actually happened.
“You,” Emma says, and before anyone can react, she punches him hard in the arm.
Bones doesn’t even flinch. Just grins. “You’re welcome, swan.”
“Don’t ‘swan’ me.” She hits him again, harder this time. “You promised you’d stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Tracking me without telling me!” She’s somewhere between furious and relieved. “Where the fuck is it this time, Bones? They smashed my phone and tossed it at the airport.”
Bones’s grin turns sheepish. He mutters, “Shoulder blade.” Then Emma’s face goes bright red.
“YOU PUT A FUCKING TRACKING DEVICE INSIDE MY BODY WITHOUT MY CONSENT!?!”
The parking lot goes dead silent.
“It was for your safety—”
“MY SAFETY?!” She lunges at him, and Steel catches her around the waist. “YOU PUT A GPS CHIP IN MY BODY!”
“Technically it’s between your shoulder blade and your—”
“I DON’T CARE ABOUT THE TECHNICAL LOCATION!” She’s struggling against Steel, who holds her back with that resigned expression. “When did you even—oh my GOD. Last year. When you just ‘happened’ to be in town and that giant-ass ‘bug’ bit me.”
Bones has the grace to look slightly uncomfortable. “You stopped wearing the necklace—”
“Because the clasp broke!” Emma breaks free and stalks toward Bones, who still hasn’t moved from his bike. “Are you telling me that necklace was a tracking device too?”
Bones shifts his weight, calculating whether honesty or deflection will get him out of this alive. He settles on honesty.
“Maybe.”
Emma’s shriek could shatter glass. “MAYBE?!”
“It had a five-year battery life, and you loved that necklace—”
“I LOVED IT BECAUSE I THOUGHT MY—” She stops suddenly, takes a calming breath. “I thought it was a thoughtful gift from a friend. I had no idea it was being used to keep tabs on me.”
Her face crumbles, and something in my chest twists. She’s not just angry—she’s hurt. Betrayed. This is about more than a tracker between them. There’s history here.
“Emma,” Bones says, and his voice has gone soft in a way I’ve never heard before. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like?” Her voice breaks. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve been spying on me for years. Treating me like—like some kind of asset instead of a person.”
“I kept you alive.”
“AT WHAT COST?!” She whirls on him. “Do you have any idea how creepy this is? How much of a violation—”
“I know exactly how it looks—”
“DO YOU?! Because it looks like you’re a controlling psychopath who’s been stalking me!”
“Wrong. It looks like a man who knows exactly how dangerous this world is keeping you safe,” Bones fires back. “Which, by the way, worked out pretty fucking well tonight, didn’t it?”
That stops them cold. For a moment, they just stare at each other—Emma breathing hard, Bones perfectly still.
“That’s not the point,” she finally says, but her voice wavers.
“It’s exactly the point.” Bones pushes off his bike, and the movement brings him toe-to-toe with her. “You got snatched by professionals. Your phone was destroyed. No one knew where you were. But I did. I found you. And if I hadn’t—”
“If you hadn’t, I would have figured it out myself!”
“Right. Because you had that situation so under control.”
“I had a PLAN!”
“What plan? Pirouette your way through three armed men?”
“That’s—you’re—” She’s sputtering now and suddenly spins toward the clubhouse. “I can’t do this. I can’t even look at you right now.”
She storms toward the entrance, and Bones follows.
“Emma, wait—”
“NO! No waiting! No talking! I’m done!” She yanks the door open. “SEVEN YEARS, BONES! You’ve been tracking me for SEVEN FUCKING YEARS!”
“More like six and a half—”
“OH, WELL THAT MAKES IT SO MUCH BETTER!”
They disappear inside, voices echoing.
“That’s why you always just ‘happened’ to show up, isn’t it?” Emma’s voice carries through the open door. “The coffee shop on 52nd? The bodega by my apartment? That restaurant in Brooklyn I’d never been to?”
“I was checking in—”
“YOU WERE STALKING ME!”
Something crashes.
Stone moves toward the door, but Tank catches his arm. “Give them a minute, boss.”
“She just got kidnapped—”
“And she’s processing,” Maggie says. “Let her yell it out.”
We all file inside to find Emma pacing at the bottom of the stairs while Bones stands there with his arms crossed, looking like he’s being lectured by a very small, very angry tornado.
“You know what the worst part is?” Emma whirls on him. “Every time you ‘ran into me,’ I thought—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head. “Never mind.”
“Thought what?”
“NOTHING! It doesn’t matter!”
“Emma—”
“Is my apartment still here? I need to get away from you before I commit murder.”
“Upstairs,” Stone says. “But, Emma, it’s not—”
“I know where it is, Dad. I’ve only lived here my entire life.” She storms up the stairs.
Bones starts to follow, but Stone’s hand lands on his shoulder.
“Bones.” Stone’s voice is quiet. Dangerous quiet. “Is something going on between you and my daughter?”
Bones goes still. For a long moment, he doesn’t respond, just stares up the stairs where Emma disappeared. Everyone in the room holds their breath.
“I’ve been doing what you asked,” Bones finally says, voice carefully neutral. “Keeping an eye on her.”
“That’s not what I—”
“WHO THE FUCK IS LIVING IN MY APARTMENT?!” Emma’s shriek cuts through the tension, and Bones takes the opportunity to sprint up the stairs after her.
Cash winces beside me. “Oh. That.”
“THERE ARE CLOTHES IN MY CLOSET! SOMEONE’S SHAMPOO IN MY SHOWER!” More crashes from upstairs. “ARE THOSE—IS THAT A MAN’S RAZOR?!”
Bones’s voice floats down the stairs. “Technically, the apartment was never yours. You said you didn’t want to stay with a bunch of sweaty bikers—your words.”
I wince. That was possibly the worst thing he could have said.
“TECHNICALLY YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF!”
“Emma—”
“NO! I just got kidnapped, I found out my most trusted friend has been tracking me like a wild animal, and now someone’s living in my space!” Her voice cracks. “I just—I need one thing to be how I left it. Just ONE thing that’s still mine!”
The raw pain in her voice makes my chest tight. Cash squeezes my hand.
Bones’s voice gentles. “Everything about you is yours, Emma. Your space, your life, your choices—I never wanted to take any of that from you.”
“Then why does it feel like you already did?”
Silence.
“Because you never fucking ask for help until it’s too late! Because I’m forever racing across state lines to save your ass from your own bad decisions.”
“Then stop saving me. I don’t even need your help!”
“You needed it tonight!”
“Once! I needed help ONCE in seven years!”
“You needed my help in Vegas! You needed my help when that asshole director tried to corner you in the dressing room! You needed my help when your so-called roommate stole your rent money and you were too proud to call Stone!”
“Those were different—”
“How? HOW ARE THEY DIFFERENT?!” Bones’s voice rises to match hers. “Every time, Emma. Every time you’re hurt, or scared, or in trouble, or just fucking lonely—who do you call?”
I watch Stone’s face as Bones’s question hangs in the air. His jaw is tight, eyes locked on the stairs like he’s trying to will himself not to charge up there and separate them. Maggie’s hand finds his arm, a silent reminder to let this play out.
“You,” Emma finally says, voice barely audible. “I always call you.”
More silence. Then Bones speaks, and his voice has lost all its edge.
“That’s right. Me. Not your dad. Not Lee.
Me. Because even when we were kids, you knew I was the one person you could trust to show up.
No judgment. No questions. Just there.” His voice cracks slightly.
“So yeah, I tracked you. And yeah, I should have told you. But don’t you dare stand there and tell me I took something from you when all I’ve ever done is show up when you needed me. ”
The silence that follows is suffocating. I glance at Stone, whose jaw is working like he’s chewing glass. Lee looks ready to storm up there himself. Cash pulls me against his side.
Maggie speaks first. “That’s a lovers’ quarrel if I ever heard one.”
“That’s my little sister you’re talking about,” Lee spits.
“And my daughter,” Stone adds.
“Please,” Maggie scoffs. “She’s a twenty-eight-year-old woman who spent a decade dancing professionally in New York City. She’s not some delicate flower.”
“She just got kidnapped,” Lee counters.
“And she’s upstairs holding her own against a man who’s got two foot and eighty pounds on her,” Maggie points out. “I think she’s doing just fine.”
That’s when we hear it. A soft thump against a wall. Then another. Then a rhythmic creaking.
“Oh my god,” Kya whispers.
“Is that…” Ginger starts.
“Yep,” Maggie says, not even trying to hide her satisfaction.