CHAPTER TWO
– SABLE –
Bringing my truck to a stop, I shut it off and glance at the cabin before me.
Shame I can’t walk inside and crash in my own bed.
Reluctantly, I open the door and don’t regret taking my truck with the pile of snow my boots sink into.
The temperature dropped and caused dangerous riding conditions. Hence the damn truck.
I sigh and stomp in the direction of the cabin sitting a few yards away from mine.
A little over an hour ago my president’s silent alarm in his cabin went off.
We both have a state-of-the-art security system, and through the camera he could see there was a woman walking around, doing fucking laundry, and eating his cookies.
Which is why he didn’t rush over himself but ordered me to check when I went home. Prez is still at the clubhouse handling one of the prospects who screwed up. I’d much rather kick that asshole’s ass than to evict some random chick from my president’s cabin.
Sad to kick a person out of a home during this cold, but she’s the one in the wrong here.
Releasing a sigh, I stomp through the snow and curse myself for not using the road which has been snowplowed.
It hasn’t snowed in two days, but there’s still a thick layer, and more will come in another snowstorm during Christmas, which is still a few weeks away.
I glance through the window of my president’s cabin and see the light flicker through the room from the fireplace. Using the key, I enter the front door and push in the code to disarm the alarm system.
I softly close the door behind me. The only sound is the crackling and snapping of the fireplace.
Moving silently, I notice a backpack on the couch and dig through it while also keeping an eye on the sleeping woman.
A pocketknife is the first thing I stumble onto and shove the thing into my back pocket.
She seems to be locked in dreamland. Judging from the stuff in the backpack, and by the look of her shoes, along with all the clothes she washed?
I’m pretty sure snoring beauty here is homeless.
She doesn’t snore loudly, more like a cute little noise letting me know she’s comfortably sleeping.
Stepping to the side to catch a better look at her face, I have to admit, she is a stunner with her gorgeous long black hair.
Taking her wallet, I find her driver’s license. Muttering a curse under my breath, I reach for my phone and shoot off a message to my prez to let him know the name of the woman who broke into his cabin. A gasp draws my attention to the woman in question, and I aim my gun right at her head.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I sneer.
Her gaze bounces around and settles on me. Her hands tighten around the blanket and she keeps staring right at me. No fear, and no words tumbling from her lips either.
“Explain yourself,” I bark.
The slight flinch lets me know she does understand, or maybe she’s frozen, shocked, whatever. Highly likely with her last name, or maybe she is because she didn’t expect to be caught, who the fuck knows?
I step closer and shove my gun in her face. The flames dance around the room, giving me more light to take in her features.
“Fuck. Me,” I murmur when I stare into her eyes.
“No,” she croaks with a raw voice, as if it’s been locked away for decades.
I frown and then realize why she said no. The corner of my mouth twitches and I take a step back.
“So, you do know how to speak but you just don’t?” I question.
She shrugs.
“Mercy Sheridan,” I grunt and hold up her driver’s license. “Related to Otto Sheridan?”
Mercy’s lips stay sealed once again. Her gaze strays to the cookie jar in her lap and her fingers let go of the blanket. I watch how she slowly reaches for a cookie and shoves the whole thing into her mouth.
“Hungry, eh?” I ask.
I get a tight nod as she grabs another cookie.
“Do you know whose cabin you broke into?” I wonder.
Another tight nod. Interesting.
“He’s on his way,” I tell her.
Mercy’s eyes widen and she jolts to her feet.
The blanket hits the floor and my mouth runs fucking dry.
Fuckin’ A, those are some very cock spankin’ juicy tits she’s sporting.
The large bruises on her body manage to drag my attention away.
It clearly tells a tale this woman recently took a beating.
Still, it doesn’t distract me from appreciating her nakedness.
Damn what a banging body. Curvy hips, lush ass, tits swinging.
I wouldn’t mind burying my cock between those breasts and painting them with thick ropes of cum.
Shit. I don’t need those thoughts clouding my mind.
She doesn’t seem to care one damn bit that my gun is still aimed at her when she rushes to the wet clothes hanging to dry in front of the fire.
“Stop,” I growl.
When she doesn’t react, I shove my gun back in its holster.
Her not being scared of a bullet to the head, and being a naked woman and all?
There’s not much of a threat. Besides, chick or not, I can knock her out with a punch to the face any given time.
She’s the one in the wrong here, trespassing and all.
I grab her shoulder and spin her around. “What the fuck are you doing? Are you seriously going to put those wet clothes on and go outside where it’s freezing? You’ll die, woman.”
The glare she shoots at me makes my damn cock twitch.
Ignoring my stiff dick in the tight confinement of my jeans, I give her a shove and point at the chair she was sitting in earlier. “Sit your naked ass back down.”
Her eyes go to her backpack and before she can take one step I snarl, “Think again if you wanna try and get the knife that was in there. You’d be knocked out cold on the floor before you can so much as fucking blink. Now don’t make me repeat myself.”
By the way a muscle jumps in her jaw I can tell she’s fuming and grinding her teeth as she stomps into the direction of the chair. What a damn sight with her ass jiggling. A groan rips from me when she bends over, showing me a hint of her pussy as she snatches the blanket off the floor.
“Don’t cover yourself up on my account,” I tell her and smirk when she flips me off.
We keep staring at one another until I hear the rumble of trucks and see the headlights. A moment later the front door opens and Kujo, my president, steps inside, along with two other club brothers.
Bright lights fill the room and prez has a murderous look on his face. He stalks right up to the chair the woman is sitting in, and towers over her. They lock their gaze and it’s then he stumbles back and looks completely shocked.
“What the fuck,” he mutters and then his voice becomes a hard snap. “Who the hell are you?”
Mercy holds his stare but keeps her mouth shut.
“Talk,” Kujo roars.
I clear my throat and pick up the driver’s license where I left it on the table to give it to him. He glances down and takes in the details.
“She understands you ’cause she bobs and shakes her head and gave me a verbal ‘no’ when I mentioned something earlier.” I’m not going to tell him why she felt the need to tell me no. “Her voice sounds unused so she might be a mute or something.”
“Are you?” Kujo asks.
Mercy is glaring at him and slowly shakes her head. Interesting. Kujo releases a deep sigh and he sinks down on the table near the chair.
Staring at the woman he taps the driver’s license against his knee and murmurs some numbers before he asks, “Is your mother’s name Selene?”
Kujo instantly gets a tight nod and jolts to his feet. Pacing the small room of the cabin, he rubs his neck and mutters something incomprehensible.
“Prez?” I ask. “What’s going on?”
He stops mid-stride. “Call the club doctor. I don’t care what time it is. Get him here and let him draw some of her blood. We need a DNA test to make sure, but I kinda already know who she is.” He points at Mercy. “My daughter.”
It’s not a total shock to me. I’ve seen the complete heterochromia and haven’t seen the same eyes Kujo has in all my damn life...until I met Mercy.
Taking my phone in hand, I shoot a message to the club doctor and then address my president. “And the mother would be...”
“Otto’s sister,” Kujo grits. “It’s a long story; one I don’t want to share right now.”
I glance behind me at the two club brothers whose ears are flapping.
Turning to face them, I let those fuckers know, “What you saw and heard here tonight won’t be gossiped to anyone else. Brother or not, understood?”
They all nod in agreement and I turn to Kujo. “How do you want to handle it? I’m pretty sure a DNA test will take a few days. I think she’s homeless from the looks of it.”
Kujo rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Take her to your place after the doctor takes her blood. Keep an eye on her until we have the results.”
Shit. “Are you ordering me to be a damn babysitter?”
Kujo shoves his arms away from his body and grits, “What the fuck else are we going to do, VP? If she is my daughter, then Otto’s her uncle. Meaning we don’t have a damn clue what his game might be. Fuck. Or hers for that matter.”
Silence overtakes the room, and I guess the decision is made; I’m stuck with this chick for the upcoming few days at least.