Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Alast-minute request from a Maverick Security client landed me with one of my least favorite gigs—babysitting an insurance CEO through the city.
The man had the personality of wet cardboard and the overconfidence of a mediocre prospect.
I found these assignments boring as fuck.
I preferred the jobs at bars and concerts—loud music, rough crowds, and pulsing energy fueling my focus.
Instead, I wore a goddamn suit to hide most of my tattoos—at the client’s insistence—and pushed through a throng of protestors that lined the sidewalk.
They thrust hand-painted signs in the air, chanting “stop killing patients for profit.” After what Merci told me the other night about the asthmatic kid, I couldn’t bring myself to blame them.
The voices, raised fists, and hand-painted poster boards blurred into the background as I kept my eyes sharp on the executive ahead.
Out of the crowd, a figure broke through. A woman with greasy hair, no older than twenty, lunged forward with her face twisted with determination. She clenched a long, sharp kitchen knife in her right hand.
I acted on instinct, diving between the girl and the executive. The blade slashed through the air and found contact. Hot pain flared across my forearm.
“Get the fuck inside!” I barked at the CEO, who didn’t hesitate. He scurried into the building like the pussy he was as I forced the girl to the ground, pinning her body to the gritty pavement. The knife skittered across the ground as police officers and TV cameras swarmed around us.
Blood poured down my arm, soaking into the sleeve and dripping down my hand. I looked at the shredded fabric and grimaced. My funeral suit was ruined.
“We got her,” a cop said, pushing me aside to cuff the woman.
I nodded. My breath was heavy, but steady. I’d taken worse. Forcing down the burn, I pressed my hand hard against the wound.
“You need stitches,” the cop said.
“Probably. Need to get my client to his goddamn meeting first, though.”
I stalked away, ignoring the cop’s insistence that I give a statement.
He could find me later. I pulled my ruined jacket off and pressed it to the wound as I escorted the CEO to his boardroom.
I stood guard outside the door as his shareholders streamed in.
I texted Coast, and he showed up thirty minutes later.
“Sorry. Parking was a bitch. Pretty sure I’ll get a ticket,” Coast said as he strode toward the boardroom.
I shrugged. “Give it to Rhetta. She’ll cover it from the business account.”
“You’ve sprung a leak,” he said, eyeing my bloodied clothes. “You should get that looked at.”
“Yeah, heading to the hospital now. Good thing it’s only a few blocks. Don’t want blood all over my bike.”
“Going to ask for Merci?” Coast asked with a smirk.
“Fuck off,” I said automatically, though the thought had already crossed my mind.
The sterile, white walls of the Emergency Room were familiar. I’d spent way too much time here the past few months. At least this visit didn’t require surgery and an overnight stay. Still, I hoped Merci was on shift. Not that I’d admit that to Coast.
I ditched my ruined jacket in the nearest trash can as a nurse escorted me to a bed. She pressed a wad of sterile gauze into my hand, and I held it tight against the gaping wound. The pain settled from a sharp sting to a dull ache.
Merci strolled in with a tray a few minutes later. “When the nurses said we had a frequent flier in here, I assumed it was Homeless Dave. But when they started chittering about the pretty biker, I knew it had to be you.”
“When you hear ‘pretty biker,’ I’m your first thought?’ I teased.
“Don’t let it go to your head.” Her tone was sharp, but her eyes flickered with concern. “Who’s with Chaos?”
“Eva’s babysitting. She’s using her as leverage to try to talk Reaper into another dog.”
Merci snorted. “I doubt Chaos will help that case.” She slipped on rubber gloves. “Let me see the damage.”
I pulled the gauze away, and she prodded at the filleted skin. She leaned in, close enough for her magnolia shampoo to cut through the scent of antiseptic. As she cleaned the cut, her fingers brushed my arm, and a spark shot up my spine.
“I’ll do my best, but it’s probably going to fuck up the tattoo.”
“Figures,” I grunted.
Merci stitched up the wound and wrapped it in gauze. “Keep it dry. No heavy lifting. Try to avoid gunshots. You know the drill by now.”
I nodded. If I had a dollar for every stitch I’ve had over the years, I’d probably be able to buy another bike.
My phone chirped, and I pulled it from my pocket to read the message. Merci glanced over, reading it before I had the chance to darken the screen.
“Still ignoring her?” she asked quietly.
“I don’t owe her shit.” My biological mother didn’t deserve a second of my time.
“You don’t. But closure could be good for you. I’d give anything to talk to my dad again.”
“Different situation,” I insisted. “Your dad was a good man.”
Merci peeled off her gloves, tossing them in the trash. “I know. But you’ll never—”
The curtain snapped open before she could finish. Merrick, Kenna, and a guy I didn’t recognize filled the space. I shot Merci a glance to keep my private business quiet.
Merrick folded his arms, his scowl aimed squarely at me. “You know how much paperwork this means for me?” he grumbled.
“Would have been more if I’d let the girl stab him,” I offered as I flexed my bandaged arm.
Kenna gave Merci a quick hug before turning to me, her smile warm. “Merci, Hatchet—this is my brother, Everest.”
I reached out my good hand. “Nice to meet you, Mountain Man.”
Everest chuckled, his grip firm. “Nice to meet you, too, Tree Cutter.”
Merci giggled. “Nice one.”
Everest appraised Merci with a subtle, appreciative glance. My jaw tightened. He caught the flicker of irritation in my eyes—the undercurrent that said, ‘Stay out of my territory.’ Without another word, he tilted his head slightly in a silent truce.
“We’re here to spring you,” Kenna quipped. “Our favorite taco truck is nearby.”
“Business and burritos,” Everest mused. “I think I like it here.”
Merci handed me the discharge papers, and I scribbled my signature before handing them back to her. “See you next time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just making sure you have job security.”
“I’ll get you a punch card,” she shot back. “After ten visits, you get a free ice cream.”
I grinned. “Pretty sure this is my tenth visit already. I like strawberry ice cream, by the way.”
As we left the hospital, the smell of tacos hit me before we even reached the street. My stomach growled in approval. We claimed a battered picnic table while Merrick handed Everest a folder. He flipped it open, scanning the statements.
“The profit margins look solid. Steady revenue growth before the pandemic. There’s a lot of potential here.”
Merrick nodded. “No real competition—just traditional gyms nearby. Nothing like this with space for classes.”
“Why’s the owner selling?” Everest asked.
“Retiring,” Merrick explained. “Says he wants to move closer to where the grandkids live.”
Taco sauce dripped down my hand, and Kenna caught it with a napkin before it stained the bandage. “Thanks, doll.”
Merrick glared at me.
“Sorry. Habit.” Considering the number of times he’d lectured me about using pet names on his old lady, you’d think I’d have learned.
“What about you?” Everest asked me. “You into the business side, or just the muscle?”
I huffed. “Just the muscle. I’ll let someone else handle the spreadsheets.”
“Smart,” Everest said. “Or just hire a cute admin to do it for you.”
I smirked. “Now we’re talking.”
“Or you could hire a college intern, right?” Kenna suggested with a grin.
I chuckled. “Never going to let that go, are you?”
Everest raised a brow in question.
“Long story,” I explained. “A hook-up turned out to be a college reporter. Became a whole thing.”
“She was twenty,” Kenna said incredulously. “You’re over a decade older than her.”
I raised a brow at her. “You’re nine years younger than Merrick.”
Kenna huffed at me. “That’s different.”
“Tell yourself that when you’re pushing Grandpa around in a wheelchair.”
Merrick chucked an ice cube at me, bouncing it off my forehead. “Focus,” he warned, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“So, you think we should buy it?” I asked.
Everest nodded. “It looks like a solid investment. You’ll want to make sure you have a good marketing strategy in place when you reopen. Some fresh offerings.”
“Eva and I have that covered,” Kenna said.
“How much will it cost?” I asked. I blew through cash like a drunk preacher in a Vegas strip club for the first time. Despite not having to pay rent at the clubhouse, my savings account was thin.
Merrick shared the number, and I choked on my drink. “Dude, I don’t have that much. I paid cash for my new bike. I have maybe half of that in the bank.”
“I’d be willing to go in as a silent investor,” Everest offered. “It would give me an excuse to come visit more often. I’d be mostly hands-off. I could have my admin handle the paperwork for you guys, too. She oversees payroll and accounting for my other ventures.”
I shared a glance with Merrick. “It would be good to have someone who knows the business side.”
“I’m good with that,” Merrick said.
“And you’re sure you want to go into business together?” I asked Merrick. Sure, we were friends. But we also butted heads more than anyone else in the club.
“There’s no one I trust more than you,” Merrick insisted.