Epilogue 2 - Mercy #2
The thumping gets louder. More rhythmic. Then Emma moans—loud enough to carry down the stairs.
Stone’s face goes from confused to horrified to absolutely murderous in about three seconds flat. He lunges for the stairs, but Tank and Axel grab him.
“LET ME GO!”
“Boss, no—”
“THAT’S MY DAUGHTER!”
“That’s a grown woman making her own choices!” Maggie blocks his path, surprisingly effective for someone a foot shorter than him.
“I’M GOING TO KILL HIM!”
“You’re going to do no such thing,” Maggie says firmly. “I don’t care if you are the president of this club. You will sit. down.”
Another moan from upstairs. Louder this time. More... enthusiastic.
Lee looks like he’s going to be sick. “I need to leave. I need to leave right now.”
Ginger giggles. “Good for them.”
“That’s it,” Maggie announces, clapping her hands like she’s herding kindergartners. “Everyone to the kitchen. Away from the stairs. Now.”
“But—” Stone starts.
“NOW, Boone Armstrong. If you go up there and embarrass that girl any further tonight, so help me god, I will make the rest of your life miserable. And you know I can.”
Stone’s face is doing something between rage and resignation as Maggie physically herds him toward the kitchen. The rest of us follow, because honestly, what else are we going to do? Stay here and listen to Emma and Bones work through their feelings in the most graphic way possible?
Cash pulls me into the kitchen. He’s fighting a grin. My lips twitch—after everything tonight, this is the most normal thing that could happen.
Ginger grabs Lee’s arm and sets him in a chair. “Come on, big brother. Let’s get you something strong to drink.”
“What about bleach? Can we bleach the memory out?”
I laugh at Lee’s expression, both traumatized and murderous. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“I’ll settle for forgetting tonight ever happened.” He downs the whiskey Ginger pours in one gulp. “My little sister. And Bones. Fucking Bones.”
“You know,” Cash says, “with a fight like that, I’d say this has been brewing for a while.”
“Keep talking and I’ll throw you through a wall,” Lee warns.
Stone’s pacing the kitchen, running hands through his hair. “I’m going to kill him, strip his patch. I gave him one job—keep an eye on her. Not—not—”
“Drink,” Maggie orders, shoving a glass in his hand. “All of you. Especially you two.” She points at Stone and Lee.
Stone takes his. Lee looks at his like it might bite.
“She’s an adult,” Poppy says gently, rubbing his arm.
“I know. But I also know what Bones is doing to her right now, and I need that knowledge surgically removed from my brain.”
“Pretty sure there’s not enough alcohol in the world for that,” Duck observes.
“Thanks, Duck. Very helpful.”
Upstairs, Emma laughs—bright and free—and everyone freezes.
“She sounds happy,” Kya offers quietly.
Stone drains his glass. Doesn’t respond.
“When’s the last time you heard her laugh like that?” Maggie asks.
Stone’s jaw works. “Not in a long time.”
“Then maybe this is a good thing.” Maggie refills his glass. “Because right now? Your daughter is home, she’s safe, and she’s happy. Can you just... let her have this?”
Stone looks toward the ceiling, then back at his drink. “I’m still going to kill him.”
“Fair enough. But maybe wait until morning.”
Duck turns on the Bluetooth speaker, and the Christmas music from earlier fills the kitchen. “All right, enough doom and gloom. Emma’s home. Summit’s going down. Gabriel’s in jail. We’ve had a hell of a day, but we’re still standing.”
“Barely,” Lee mutters.
“Barely counts.” Duck raises his glass. “To family. The kind you choose and the kind that drives you absolutely insane.”
“Hear, hear,” several voices chorus.
Glasses clink. The tension eases as people drift into conversation—comparing notes, making plans for rebuilding Devil’s, speculating about Emma and Bones in voices low enough that Stone can’t hear.
I relax against Cash, exhaustion hitting.
“You good?” he murmurs.
“Yeah. Just tired.”
“I’d offer to take you up to bed. But…”
I giggle. “It’s otherwise occupied.”
“Hmm.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “We can sleep in my old room tonight.”
“Anywhere with a bed is fine.” I look up at him. “As long as it’s with you.”
He wraps his arms around me, and we sway to the music, my cheek pressed to his jaw, the scruff catching at my hair in a way that makes me feel stupidly soft and safe.
The front door opens. Josie walks in carrying her briefcase and laptop, looking ready for work. She takes one look at the scene—bottles everywhere, Christmas music, people dancing, Stone drunk at the counter—and stops.
“What... happened? I thought we were… Emma? Summit?”
“Long story,” Maggie says. “But everything’s OK for now so we’re celebrating being alive.” She grabs a glass and the closest bottle. “Want a drink?”
“Sure.” Josie sets her bags down, shrugging off her suit jacket. “That would be great, actually. It’s been a day.” She glances at Stone. “He OK?”
“He will be.” Maggie hands her straight vodka. “Just don’t mention Emma, Bones, or upstairs when you talk to him.”
Josie’s eyes widen. “Duly noted.”
Stone looks up and spots Josie. His face does something complicated—softening and sharpening at the same time.
“Josie! Get the fuck over here,” he says, words slightly slurred.
Josie takes a gulp of her drink then heads over.
“You are so fucking pretty, Josie,” Stone says. “You know that, right?”
Josie blinks. “I—what?”
“Pretty. Beautiful. Gorgeous.” Stone waves his glass. “All of it. You’re all of it.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Very.” He takes another sip. “Doesn’t make it less true.”
Josie’s cheeks flush pink. She looks away. “Stone, I really think we should—”
“I’m gonna have to kill Bones,” Stone interrupts, staring into his glass. “He’s... I can’t even talk about what he’s doing.”
“Oh…” She shoots a look over her shoulder toward us and mouths ‘What do I do?’ We just shrug and she takes another gulp of her drink. “How about—”
“He’s screwing my daughter,” Stone blurts out and instantly clamps a hand over his mouth, eyes bulging as if he’s surprised by the words escaping his own face.
Josie looks from him to Maggie, to me, to the ceiling, then back at Stone.
Her mouth opens, closes, does a goldfish impersonation, then snaps shut again.
I can’t tell if she’s about to die laughing, cry, or possibly set herself on fire for an excuse to leave the room.
“Oh.” Josie sets down her glass. “Oh. That’s why we’re all crammed in the kitchen. They’re upstairs.”
“See? Pretty AND smart.” Stone grins sloppily. “You figured it out so fast, Josie.”
“Stone, you need water.”
“I need another drink.”
“No, you really don’t.” But she’s smiling despite herself, and there’s something soft in her expression that makes me think we’re all right about those two. It’s just taking them forever to do anything about it.
Cash squeezes my hand. “Come on, angel. Let’s go.”
We slip out and head down the hallway toward the original clubhouse rooms. Music and laughter fade behind us, replaced by quiet and the distant hum of the building settling.
It feels like years since I was last in Cash’s room. Compared to the apartment, it’s tiny. But it’s clean, with a bed, a dresser, and a window overlooking the parking lot. And better yet, it smells like leather and motor oil and my man.
“Home sweet home,” he says, closing the door. “Sorry it’s not the apartment.”
“It’s perfect.” I kick off my shoes and immediately feel ten pounds lighter. “Besides, the apartment’s currently occupied by two people who really, really need privacy.”
He laughs and pulls me close. “Today was insane.”
“Understatement of the year.”
“But we made it.” His hands find my hips, thumb stroking exposed skin. “Same way we always do.”
“Together?”
He grins. “Yeah. Always together.”
I look up at him—this man who fought for me, protected me, loved me even when I was too scared to let him. His face still shows fading bruises, but his eye is clear and focused entirely on me.
“Dance with me,” I say suddenly.
“What?”
“Dance with me. I can hear the music from here, and I just... I want to dance with my boyfriend in his bedroom like we’re teenagers who snuck away from prom.”
His grin is slow and devastating. “Your boyfriend, huh?”
“Unless you want a different title?”
“Oh, I want a different title.” He pulls me against him. “Since you’re my old lady. That makes me your old man.”
“My old man.” I can’t help smiling. “You’re six years my junior.”
“Then what would you prefer to call me—husband?” Heat blooms up the back of my neck and into my ears, fast and sudden and embarrassing considering I’ve literally sucked this man off in the chapel forty-eight hours ago. Boyfriend seemed adequate, but now it sounds too small, like we’ve outgrown it.
“Let’s start with old man and see how that sits,” I whisper, grinning while I guide his hands to my hips. The music’s muffled through the wall, but it doesn’t matter—I start us moving, a lazy sway, our steps barely an excuse to press closer.
He settles his cheek against my hair. “I’ll take whatever you give, angel,” he says, and the tenderness cleaves me with sharp, almost painful sweetness.
We dance in silence, just the two of us turning slow circles, one hand on my lower back, the other lacing through mine.
“I love you,” I whisper against his chest.
“I love you too, angel.” He kisses the top of my head. “More than I thought I could love anything.”
“Even bikes?”
“Even bikes.”
I smile into his shirt, letting exhaustion and relief and joy wash over me.
“I’m going to marry you someday,” Cash says suddenly.
My heart stutters. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Not now—I know it’s too soon. But someday. When you’re ready. When we’ve bought that house with the garage and the yard. When Devil’s is rebuilt and Summit’s a memory.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m going to marry you, Mercy Rogers. And it’s going to be perfect.”
Tears prick my eyes. “I’d like that.”
When I left my first marriage, I never thought I’d want to say yes to someone again. But this isn’t Gabriel’s version of forever. This is Cash’s version of it—messy, wild, made up as we go. Built on trust and second chances and the electric charge of choosing each other, every single day.
“Thought you might,” he whispers, and then he’s kissing me and we’re heading toward the bed.
Outside this room, there’s still work to do. Summit isn’t finished. The bar needs rebuilding. Emma and Bones have a lot to figure out.
But right now, none of that matters.
Right now, it’s just us. Cash’s arms around me. Music playing softly. The warmth of family down the hall—the safety, the love, the certainty that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.
Tonight, we won.
Tonight, we’re home.
Tonight, we’re loved.
And that’s all I ever wanted.
Thanks for reading!
Why not dive into the next in the Stoneheart MC Series with Megan Wade’s Etched in Stone featuring Bones and Emma -
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Check out for a bonus epilogue six months into the future, showing Cash & Mercy during Devil’s Bar reopening!