Chapter Three
MERCS
The police take their sweet time while I sit in a holding cell feeling like I’m wasting oxygen.
I gave my statement. I told them everything—that Jett drugged Effa with the intention of raping her, that he told Liam about it, and that there are witnesses who can corroborate it.
I know Luke didn’t want me saying a word until he got there, but I needed them to understand that Jett is dangerous.
He’s not just some jealous prick. The asshole’s a liability, and he needs to be dealt with.
I’ve been here at least five hours. Maybe more.
Time moves differently when you’re locked in a cell with nothing but your own thoughts.
Every minute that passes without news from the hospital claws at me.
The not knowing is torture. I don’t give a damn what happens to me, I just need to know how Effa is.
An officer finally appears at the bars. “Mercury. You’re free to go.”
I blink at him in confusion. “What?”
“Jett Jones isn’t pressing assault charges. And the police aren’t pursuing it further. So you’re free to go. Just try not to end up back here on a violence charge. Got it?”
I stand slowly, nodding once. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“And Mercury…” He gestures to my hands. “Wash the blood off your knuckles.”
I glance down, then give him a tight nod. My skin is split and swollen, dried blood caked over my fists—mine and Jett’s—and I start following him out of the cells.
Luke is waiting at the front desk. He dips his chin in greeting before I sign the release form and collect my belongings.
“Don’t come back,” the officer says, sliding my wallet and phone across the counter.
I take them, my jaw tight, and Luke joins me as we push through the doors. Cooper’s outside with the engine running, holding the door open like he expects me to explode again.
Before Luke can launch into whatever fucking lecture he’s prepared, I cut him off. “How is Effa? Is she okay?”
He exhales, his shoulders easing slightly. “No change.”
My stomach drops. I wasn’t expecting miracles, but I’d hoped for something—any sign.
“I need to be with her—”
“You should’ve thought about that before assaulting someone in a hospital waiting room full of witnesses,” Luke says evenly.
He’s not wrong.
But I’m not fucking sorry.
“I’m not apologizing for smashing Jett’s face in,” I tell him. “You can’t honestly say he didn’t deserve it. You would’ve stopped me if you thought he didn’t. What I will apologize for is leaving Effa. I hate that I did that.”
Luke studies me for a moment before sighing. “You’re right, he deserved it. None of us stepped in because you did what we all wanted to do. But doing it in front of so many witnesses in a hospital? I had to pull serious strings to keep you from being charged.”
I look out the window as Cooper pulls away from the curb. “Thank you. How did you manage it?”
“I got to Jett first. I told him that if he didn’t press charges, we wouldn’t take what he did to the media. Swift Division pulls out of the tour quietly. We compensate the band for the remainder of the contract. In exchange, you walk free, and he disappears.”
I swallow. “So Jett’s gone? Out of our lives?”
Luke nods. “As far as I can tell. And for what it’s worth, the police are taking the drugging seriously. He won’t skate on that.”
I close my eyes and let some of the tension bleed out of me. “Good.” The word is clipped and grunted out.
Luke tilts his head slightly. “You’re family now, Mercs. We look after our own.”
The word family sits heavy in my chest.
Cooper drives in silence for a few minutes before Luke speaks again, “We’re going back to the hotel first. You need to clean up.”
“No. I’m going straight back to Effa.”
“What she needs is someone steady, not a man covered in another guy’s blood. You’re wired and feral right now. Shower, change, and then we go. That’s not a request.”
I glance down at my knuckles and the dark stains on my jeans. He’s right. Walking into the hospital like this would only make matters worse.
“Fine… five minutes. Then we go.”
We pull into the hotel garage and head inside. I ignore the stares from strangers who take in the blood on my clothes. I don’t give a shit what they think.
“Is Jett rotting in a cell?” I ask as we step into the elevator.
Luke exhales. “I don’t know. He could’ve made bail. You need to be prepared for that.”
The thought tightens every muscle in my body. “If he goes near her again—”
“You. Do. Nothing,” Luke cuts in, the tightness in his voice means business. “Because if you do, you’ll end up behind bars, and that won’t help Effa. Think smarter.”
I know he’s right.
That doesn’t mean I like it.
Inside the suite, I grab clean clothes and head for the bathroom. “I’ll be quick. Then we go straight back.”
“Just go,” Luke says. “We’ll head out as soon as you’re done.”
I strip out of the bloodstained clothes and step under the hot spray. Red swirls down the drain. It looks so simple, the way it disappears, like it never happened. But I can still feel Jett’s bones under my knuckles. I can still see Effa on the damn floor.
I scrub until my skin stings.
But by the time I step out and dress, my pulse has slowed a fraction, but the rage hasn’t left. It’s just buried deeper.
“I’m done,” I say, stepping back into the suite. “Let’s go.”
Luke nods. “All right. Cooper…”
We head back into the hallway, which is quiet until a suite door opens ahead of us.
Jett steps out.
He looks wrecked—nose taped, cheek stitched, one eye already darkening. For a second, we stare at each other.
Then he points at me. “You. You’re going to pay for ruining my career.”
I laugh under my breath, the sound sharp. “I ruined your career? You did that when you drugged my girl.”
He shakes his head, eyes burning. “This is your fault. You kept her from me. Everything that happened is on you.”
“You’re insane.”
“No,” he says softly, almost calmly. “I’m going to get her… Effa is mine. There is nothing surer than that. And none of you will stop me.”
My restraint snaps.
I surge forward and slam my forearm into his throat, driving him back into the wall. Luke and Cooper grab at me, but I press harder, watching his face strain for air.
“You don’t get to say her name,” I growl.
When they finally wrench me off him, Jett doubles over, gasping, then straightens with a wild, almost crazy look in his eyes.
“You’ll pay for that,” he says, pulling something from his pocket.
The flash of metal catches the light a split second before he lunges.
Time slows.
The blade comes straight for me.
Before I can react, Cooper steps in front of me. The knife slices into his arm, and Luke tackles Jett to the floor, driving his fist into Jett’s broken nose.
Chaos explodes in the hallway.
I drop down, pinning Jett’s arm while Luke holds his shoulders. Cooper kicks the knife away and presses his hand to his bleeding bicep.
“Fuck, Cooper,” I say, my voice tight. “Your arm.”
“I’m fine,” he mutters. “Call the cops.”
Jett glares up at me, hatred burning in his eyes. “I’ll find you. I’ll make you suffer.”
“You’ll be doing it from a cold, dark cell,” Luke says coldly.
This time, there’s no bargaining.
This time, he’s finished.
And I finally know one thing for certain.
Effa will be safe from him now.
***
Cooper is down in the emergency room getting stitched up. The cut looks worse than it is, shallow, a few stitches, and he’ll be fine, but that doesn’t stop the image of him stepping in front of that blade from replaying in my head.
When Luke told everyone that Jett had pulled a knife, the shock hit hard.
The relief came after, the kind that settles heavy in your chest when you realize someone who’s been circling like a vulture is finally done.
This time, there’s no bargaining, no quiet exit.
He crossed a line he can’t talk his way out of.
But right now, we are back to waiting.
No one’s been allowed in to see Effa yet. I’d half-expected that, while I was stuck at the station, something would happen and I’d miss it, but she’s still under observation. Longer than I thought she would be.
The anger has burned itself out, leaving something colder in its wake. Numbness. I need to see her. I need to see with my own eyes that she’s still fighting.
Unless they are keeping us out because something’s wrong.
“Alana Scott-Carrington,” a voice calls from the corridor.
My stomach tightens as a doctor steps into view.
“Yes,” Alana answers, rising quickly.
“You can come through now. Two at a time.”
She doesn’t hesitate, reaching for my hand, and I lace my fingers through hers as we follow the doctor down the hall. Her grip tightens the farther we walk, like she’s drawing strength from me. I squeeze back, steady, even though my own pulse is hammering.
We stop at a sealed door, and the doctor gestures toward the sanitizer dispenser. “Please sanitize your hands.”
We comply, the sharp smell of antiseptic filling the air before the doors slide open, and we step into the ICU.
The room is quieter than I expected. Not silent, nothing in here is ever silent, but subdued. Machines hum and beep softly, voices stay low, and movements are controlled. It feels like stepping into a different world.
“I’m scared, Mercs,” Alana whispers, pressing closer to me.
“I know,” I murmur, because there’s nothing else to say.
The doctor pauses outside room seven and turns to us.
“She’s stable. Remember, she’s in an induced coma.
She won’t respond, but hearing is often one of the last senses to go.
Talk to her. It helps.” He gestures lightly toward the door.
“There’s a ventilator and monitoring equipment.
It looks confronting, but she’s progressing as well as I would expect at this stage of her treatment. ”
Confronting is a goddamn understatement.
The door opens, and I force myself to step forward first.
Effa lies in the bed, pale against the white sheets. A tube extends from her mouth, tape securing it in place. Wires run from her chest to monitors that blink and pulse in a steady rhythm. The ventilator breathes for her, a mechanical sigh filling the space between us.
Alana sags against me for a second before straightening.
Because of Jett.
The thought burns.
“Oh, God, Effa,” Alana whispers, her hand covering her mouth.
The doctor checks her chart, murmurs that he’ll give us privacy, and leaves. The door shuts with a soft click.
The ventilator’s rhythm becomes everything. It syncs with the pounding in my ears until I can’t tell which is hers and which is mine.
Alana moves first. She steps to the bedside but hesitates, hands hovering like she’s afraid she might break her. I circle to the other side, drawn there without thinking. Up close, Effa looks almost peaceful. If not for the tube and the wires, she could be sleeping.
I take her hand, it’s cooler than it should be, and that bothers me more than the machines. So, I cover it fully with mine, trying to share my warmth.
“Effa,” I say quietly.
Alana looks at me, uncertain, but I keep going.
“Baby, I know you can hear me. Take whatever time you need. We’re here. We’re not going anywhere. You rest.”
I nod toward Alana. “Your sister’s right here.”
Alana swallows and reaches for Effa’s other hand. “Yeah, Eff, I’m here. You don’t get out of sister duties that easily.” Her voice wobbles, then steadies. “You should’ve seen Mercs earlier—total bad boy protector mode. Jett showed up, and… well, let’s just say he’s not walking away pretty.”
A faint uptick sounds from the monitor.
Both of us freeze.
“Did you see that?” Alana whispers.
I glance at the screen. Effa’s heart rate has risen slightly.
“Maybe she’s reacting,” I say, not daring to let hope take over. “Either she’s happy about it, or she’s rolling her eyes at me.”
Alana huffs a soft laugh. “Probably both.”
The monitor steadies again, and silence stretches, heavy but not empty.
“She was so out of it,” I say quietly. “When I found her, she could barely stand. I don’t even know how much Jett gave her.” The memory tightens my chest. “If I’d been five minutes later…”
Alana shakes her head quickly. “Don’t!”
But the thoughts are already there.
“If I’d gone to the party with her, this never would’ve happened,” I continue, unable to stop. “He wouldn’t have had the chance—”
“You didn’t fail her,” Alana says firmly. “You saved her. If you hadn’t shown up when you d-did…” Her voice breaks for a second before she regains control. “I don’t know if he would’ve called for help when she overdosed. That’s what scares me.”
I look down at Effa, at the rise and fall of her chest under the machine’s control.
“If she hadn’t made it…” I swallow hard. “I wouldn’t have survived that. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself. Even now, I don’t know if I can.”
Alana steps closer to the bed. “She’s still here because you got to her in time. Don’t take that away from yourself.”
As if in response, the monitor beeps a little faster again, and we both glance at it.
I squeeze Effa’s hand gently. “When you wake up,” I murmur. “I’m going to tell you exactly what you mean to me.”
Alana smiles through wet eyes. “Good. About time.”
She pulls a chair closer to the bed. “Come on. Let’s sit with her.”
I nod, dragging another chair to the opposite side. “Best idea I’ve heard all day.”
And for the first time since this nightmare started, sitting there beside her, holding her hand, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.