Chapter Eighteen
MERCS
In the rafters above the stage, it feels like you’re looking down on the world from the heavens—detached, weightless, removed from the chaos below.
Up here, above the lighting and rigging, everything is quiet.
Especially before a show, when the stage is bare, and the crew’s still arriving.
It’s peaceful in a way most people wouldn’t understand.
This place has become a refuge.
Telling Effa about Kiera was fucking hard. Breaking down in front of her… that part? Even harder. It makes me feel less of a man. I didn’t want her to see me like that. Didn’t want the others to find out and start looking at me with those eyes—pitying, knowing, waiting for me to fall apart.
Fuck.
I can’t even look at myself in the mirror without thinking about it. The weight of it presses down like a storm cloud that won’t shift.
And now…
The money.
The stem cell procedure for Kiera isn’t cheap. Add in the hospital fees, follow-ups, and aftercare, and it becomes a mountain. One I can’t climb with what I’ve got. I need serious cash. Fast.
Back home, Tyler, a guy I used to go to school with, told me about this betting app called Sportshark. Said it’s run by a guy named Vex, a bookie with reach. Tyler said sometimes you’ve got to take a risk if you want to win big. Bet on a sure thing with high reward, but high stakes.
So yeah, I’m taking a risk.
I know gambling isn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had, but I’m not a dumbass. I don’t have an addictive personality, and this isn’t about chasing a high. It’s about flipping a desperate situation into a win.
I open the app and scroll through the latest odds.
Tyler told me ‘Trixabell’ is a horse that’s won seven of her last nine races. She’s fast, consistent, and reliable. A ‘sure thing,’ he called her.
Vex extended me a line of credit—twenty grand.
It’s reckless.
I damn-well know that.
But I hit the button anyway, placing the full twenty-thousand-dollar bet on Trixabell.
Double or nothing.
As soon as the bet locks in, a knot coils in my stomach. A whisper of doubt creeps in and settles like ice in my gut. If this doesn’t pay off, I’m in deep. Real deep.
I close the app, trying to shake the feeling.
What’s done is done.
No going back now.
Resting my head on my forearm against the rail, I let my legs dangle over the edge, staring down at the empty stage as a few crew members shuffle across the floor below, setting up gear for tonight.
My thoughts drift to Effa.
She was everything I didn’t expect when she figured out the truth about Kiera. Gentle, steady, absolutely no judgment, just comfort. I should have told her sooner. I wanted to. But the words, they’re hard to say. Still, she made it easier. Made me feel like maybe I’m not doing this alone anymore.
Effa’s become a light in my life.
And the last thing I want is to dim it.
“Mercs?” That husky, unmistakable voice floats up from below and my chest warms instantly.
I glance down and spot her weaving through the back of the stage, peeking behind lighting rigs and speakers, trying to find me.
“Are you here?” she calls, her voice curious, soft.
She looks so small from up here—tiny, determined, and gorgeous.
“Mercs… where are you?” she murmurs, more to herself than anything.
“You’re really pretty, you know that?” I call down.
She freezes, eyes darting around in confusion before landing somewhere close. Her lips curl into a smile, hands finding her hips as she tilts her head. “It’s rude to stalk people, you know.”
“I’m not stalking. I’m admiring.”
Her brows knit as she scans the dark corners of the venue. “I prefer to admire up close. So, how about you come down here so I can show you how much I want you… on your lips?”
I chuckle, the tension in my chest easing. “Sounds tempting. But how about you come to me?”
She groans and spins in a slow circle, ducking to look under tables and around cases. The acoustics are messing with her. There’s no real way to pinpoint direction.
“Well, I would, if I knew where in Gaia’s name you were.”
I whistle and knock against the railing, and her head snaps up. She squints into the darkness, then spots me, waving casually.
A laugh bubbles from her lips. “That’s an unfair advantage, Mercs.”
I grin, raising a brow as I nod toward the access rail. “Well, come on then, daredevil. Get that sexy, sassy ass up here.”
She beams. “Okay. I’ve always wondered what the view from up there’s like.”
She heads for the railing ladder and starts to climb.
My entire body tenses.
I hate this part—the climbing. She’s capable, I know that. I watched her scale the Red Rocks as if it were nothing. She’s strong, fearless, and independent, but she’s also everything to me now. And watching her feet leave the ground sends a chill straight through me.
Still, I let her do it.
Because she’d hate me trying to help.
And she can do this easily.
Effa starts the climb and hoists herself up effortlessly, just like I knew she would.
But the protector in me is wired tight. I watch her every move like a hawk, body coiled and ready to react if she slips, even though I know she won’t.
She’s strong, capable, but hell if that stops my heart from thumping like a jackhammer.
She slides under the railing at the top with fluid grace, like she’s done it a dozen times before. My smirk relaxes into a grin as she sits beside me, her legs dangling over the edge, her body aligning with mine until our thighs touch.
That single point of contact sends warmth rushing through me.
She’s mine.
Just like that.
All it takes is one little touch, and I feel grounded again.
Her eyes go wide as she stares out over the stage below. The awe on her face makes my chest squeeze.
“Mercs…” She breathes. “This is amazing.”
I drape my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in. Her head rests on my shoulder like it was always meant to, and I kiss the top of her head. The scent of her fruity shampoo fills my senses, grounding me.
“It’s a whole different world up here,” I murmur. “I’ve always wanted to share it with you.”
She smiles gently. “I just wanted to check if you’re okay. I won’t harp on, and you don’t have to talk if you’re not ready. I just didn’t want to go into tonight, still worrying about you.” Her eyes glisten with that beautiful mix of concern and strength. She’s not pushing. She’s just here.
And fuck, she means everything to me.
“I’m fine,” I say quietly, brushing her hair back. “Having you with me is all the support I need.”
But I need more.
I want more.
I want to feel her.
I slide my hand into her hair and pull her forward, kissing her like she’s the only air I need. Our tongues tangle, and her soft whimper lights a fuse inside me. Her body presses into mine, and I feel the swell of need pulsing through me.
She slows the kiss, teasing me with a smirk before pulling back. Mischief glints in her eyes as she shifts, nudging me until I lean back against the railing.
“What are you up to, Miss Carrington?” I ask, my tone low.
She doesn’t answer, just straddles me, one knee sliding over my lap as she settles on top of me. Her hands reach behind to grip the railing as she grinds against me.
“What do you think I’m doing?” she asks, all innocence and sin rolled into one.
My cock throbs instantly beneath her pressure, denim straining in all the wrong ways. “I think you’re being a very, very bad girl.”
Her lips press to my neck, sucking hard, making my breath hitch. My grip tightens on her ass.
“Oh, Mercs… I can be so bad it’s sinful,” she purrs, reaching for her waistband and sliding her leggings down one leg. A little G-string reveals itself, and my chest rises sharply with the sudden jolt of arousal.
She wastes no time.
Her hand dips into my jeans, popping buttons open, dragging them down just far enough. Her fingers slip into my briefs, wrapping around my cock and tugging it free.
I clench my jaw, stifling a groan as her warmth encases me.
It’s tight, cramped, and not ideal.
But fuck it, this is happening.
Crew chatter echoes faintly below, a background hum to our rapid breathing. She kisses me again, frantic and hungry, as she pulls her panties aside and guides me to her slick center.
The second the head of my cock slides against her, I groan into her mouth, gripping her ass and pulling her down onto me.
We both gasp out the word, “Fuck!”
She sinks onto me slowly, her walls stretching around me as she braces against the railing. Her movements start slow and sensual, more controlled.
But not for long.
I pull her up and down my length, both of us gasping through clenched teeth. The rigging creaks with every shift. We ignore it. All I know is the feel of her wrapped around me is tight, hot, and goddamn perfect.
“Fuck, that’s it,” I growl against her throat, my hands bruising her hips. “Take every damn inch like the good girl you are. You feel so fucking tight around me, Effa. Like you were made for this cock.”
This is ours.
This isn’t sweet or gentle.
It’s fast.
Dirty.
Unhinged.
“You’re mine, baby. This pussy is mine. You hear me?” I thrust up hard, forcing a stifled moan from her lips. “No one gets this. No one gets you like I do. You ride me like you belong to me, because you fucking do.”
Above the stage, she’ll command tonight, she’s riding me as though she fucking owns me.
Her rhythm picks up, and I meet every bounce with a deep thrust. The rough drag of my jeans only adds to the friction, building pressure faster than I want to admit.
“That’s it, Effa. Show me how filthy my little rock goddess can be.
Dripping all over my cock, so desperate to come for me.
” My hands slip under her tank, gliding up her sweat-slicked back.
Her moans are quiet but desperate. When she throws her head back, I move in, dragging my tongue up her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
My mark!
She whimpers louder.
So I answer with harder, deeper thrusts, losing myself completely in her.
Her body trembles.
I know she’s close.
I reach between us, my fingers finding her clit and circling with firm pressure.
It doesn’t take long and she shatters. A cry rips from her throat as she clamps down on me, pulsing through her orgasm. I thrust up one more time, my own release tearing through me with a violent rush. My body locks, my mind blanks, and everything bursts.
Effa collapses against me, our kisses softening, our breath ragged.
We slowly come down, tangled in each other.
She leans in and kisses me, sweet and slow this time, while I smooth my hands up her back, her fingers finding their way into my hair.
Her eyes glimmer as she smiles down at me. “Well, I think the rafters are my new favorite part of the stage.”
I chuckle, pulling her in tighter and kissing the tip of her nose. “You’re one hell of a woman.”
She tilts her head. “And you are fucking gorgeous. Not just because you’re sexy as hell and I love that dirty mouth, but because you trusted me with Kiera. I know how hard that was.”
“I didn’t expect the Facebook thing,” I admit. “But I’m glad it happened. And I know she would’ve lost her shit over your friend request. Probably called everyone she knows.”
Effa giggles. “I’m happy if I made her day even slightly better.” Her lips curl into a wicked smile. “Wanna go use the bathroom shower with me?”
“I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”
She climbs off me, pulling her leggings back on. I button my jeans, giving her one last appreciative glance before checking the ground below.
Everything looks normal—crew moving around, heads down, doing exactly what they are supposed to be doing.
But then something in the shadows shifts.
My eyes narrow.
There he fucking is…
Jett.
Standing half in shadow, just far enough to go unnoticed—except I see him.
Watching.
His face is blank, but his eyes… they’re cold and hard.
He saw everything.
And the chill that runs through me says he’s not going to let this go.
Effa is mine.
And I’ll make damn sure he understands that.
One way or another.