Ruined Mercy Page 3

  What I found instead was his spitfire daughter who had given me a few minutes of excitement when she shoved me in her bedroom and took off. I almost let her go, let her run out and call the cops. It wouldn’t have been big deal; I’d have been long gone before they got there.

  Almost. I wasn’t the type of guy to take a prisoner anyway, not one I hadn’t been specifically sent after.

  But without her, we’d be no better off than when Chains called me. At least with her, we had something to work with.

  Besides, I felt like this chick knew more about her father’s absence than she was letting on.

  Turning the corner, I headed to the north side of town where the clubhouse was located. If anyone knew how to get her secrets out, it would be Kristina, aka widow. Me, I tortured them for secrets, but I wasn’t about to do that to a woman.

  Not a woman who had given me a run for my money anyway.

  Shifting in the seat, I felt her respond, tightening her hold like her life depended on it. It brought a grin to my lips, wondering who she was. Hell, if this accountant’s daughter had this much fight, it might be good I hadn’t come up against her daddy.

  I would find him though. Widow Maker would pull out the location from this woman clinging to my back, and I would go after him and finish the job I was told to do. If this accountant had what I think he did, he was about to be a key bargaining chip in our fight with the cartel.

  Slowing to a stop light, I put one foot on the ground before I felt her shift. In the span of half a second, she was gone, and I was engaging the kickstand, barely getting my key out of the ignition before I was running after her.

  For a woman in flip flops, she was making some progress down the sidewalk. I skirted a couple of trashcans as I gained on her, trying to keep my cool about this. I had just scared her to fucking death, let her know I was after her father, and threw her on the back of my bike.

  My ‘death trap.’

  Hell, yeah, she was gonna run.

  She tried to turn the corner, her flip flops finally getting the best of her and she went down hard on the sidewalk.

  I was on her in a skinny minute, my breathing ragged. “Damn you.”

  She looked up at me, tears in her eyes that made something pull in my chest.

  “Are you going to kill me now?”

  “I told you I wasn’t,” I forced out, not liking the way I felt about those damn tears. Reaching down, I extended my hand. “Here. Let me help you up.”

  She swatted my hand away. “I don’t want your help! I want to go back home and forget this night ever happened!”

  Yeah, that made two of us. “Listen, you’re stuck with me for right now so why don’t we agree life fucking sucks and there’s not a damn thing either of us can do about it?”

  “You could let me go.”

  “Not a chance,” I answered, placing my hand on her arm. “Come on. I’m fucking tired and you probably got scraped up eating sidewalk like that.”

  She wordlessly allowed me to help her to her feet, wincing when she tried to put weight on her left leg. I swore under my breath and picked her up in my arms, ignoring her feeble attempts to dislodge herself.

  “Put me down!”

  Oh, Chains was gonna owe me bigtime with this deal. I tightened my hold on her thighs, trying to ignore how soft her skin was under my fingers. “Listen, woman. I’ve had just about enough of you.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” she muttered, shying away from my chest and crossing her arms over her own.

  With the subtle shift, a hint of cleavage strained against her pajama top buttons, and my own lower region reacted lightning fast.

  Damn, it had been too long. “Well at least we agree on that,” I answered as I walked back in the direction of my bike.

  Only to notice a curious cop behind it, his lights flashing.

  Before she could utter one word, my hand was on her mouth and I was heading in the other direction. “Not one scream. I will cut your throat if you do. You understand?”

  She gave me a dark look but nodded and I tried to figure out how this day had gone to shit so fucking badly. First botching the job, then taking this wildcat who had given me nothing but trouble, and now my fucking bike would be impounded.

  I needed a drink. I really big drink.

  Locating an alley, I ducked into the shadows, slowly lowering her to the ground before pressing her against the brick building with my body.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed as my hard parts collided with her soft ones. This close I could see the delicate features of her face, the plumpness of her lips.

  “I’m keeping you from running,” I forced out as I reached for my cell phone. “And calling for backup.”

  She eyed me as I held the phone up to my ear, listening to it ring on the other end. I wasn’t gonna hear the end of this one.

  ***

  It took Chains twenty minutes to find us. Twenty minutes of pressed up against one another while I desperately tried to ignore the close contact. My body was tight as a bow string by the time he pulled up to the alley in his truck, an amused expression on his face.

  “Just shut the fuck up,” I growled as I helped my captive limp over to the truck, forcing her in the backseat.

  Chains chuckled. “Dude. When it rains, it pours. I rode by where you said you left your bike. It’s gone.”

  Great, just fucking great. Now I would have to go down to the station and explain why I had left a perfectly good bike in the intersection. “Thanks, appreciate it.”

  “Maybe Chuckler can help you bail it out,” Chains said as I climbed in the truck and shut the door. I shook my head, knowing Chuckler would have a damn field day with this information. His wife, Alisha, was the new chief of police for Castillo, which was an odd combination if you ask me.

  But Chuckler and Aisha loved each other so they were willing to overlook the fact that they should be enemies and not bed buddies.

  “Just drive, will you?”

  Chains pulled away from the alley and I was surprised my captive had gone silent. Probably because of Chains and his outward appearance. Most were intimidated by his physical presence.

  Leaning back on the seat, the need for sleep pulled on me heavily. I had ridden back into Castillo around noon, forcing myself to take a shower and lie down for a few hours of shut eye that I did not get. Sleep eluded me these days and I had learned to live off a few hours here and there between jobs.

  “You get the other job done?” Chains asked quietly.

  “Yeah,” I answered, looking out of the window at the passing houses. “It’s done.”

  “You know this is gonna be on the radar,” he said as he pulled into the clubhouse, killing the headlights. “Not just with the cartel, but also with the police.”

  I gave him a shrug as I opened the truck door. “Aren’t I always on the radar? That’s what I do best.”

  He blew out a breath. “Yeah, that’s what I am worried about.”

  Chuckling, I hopped out and shut the door, reaching for the back door to help my captive out. Her eyes were wide with a hint of fear in their depths.

  But her scraped up legs quickly drew my attention and I frowned. “We got to get those cleaned out.”

  She flinched when her feet touched the ground, shaking off my hand on her elbow. “I can walk just fine.”

  I arched a brow. “Weren’t you the one just lying on the ground I had to pick up?”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Just leave me alone, okay? You… you asshole!”

  Chains let out a choked laugh and I stepped back, motioning her forward. “Then by all means, go ahead, princess. The front door is that way.”

  Hobbling, she walked up the stairs.

  “Damn, man,” Chains said as he joined me. “You really know how to win over the ladies.”

  “Shut the hell up,” I growled as I started after her. I wasn’t interested in his colorful commentary right now. Despite the sudden rash of marriages and hookups in the Rough Jeste
rs camp, I hadn’t partaken. I had been where they were. I had taken the plunge with a serious relationship and it had failed in the end.

  I wasn’t up for that hurt again.

  Shaking my head, I reached the interior of the clubhouse that was quiet despite the early hour. My captive was there, looking awkward as she stood in her pajamas, her arms around her waist. I hesitated, knowing I should at least offer my shirt or something.

  It wasn’t her fault her father wasn’t there, and she was.

  But she wasn’t alone. The president of the Hell’s Bitches was also there, glaring at me with her cold gaze. I straightened, waiting for the hammer to fall. Kristina Harper the Widow Maker wasn’t my biggest fan. She didn’t like that I was sent out to clean up messes, kill without provocation. She preferred to keep the bloodshed to a minimum. I preferred to get it over and done with.

  “Widow Maker,” I said softly, giving her a nod.

  “Crankshaft,” she forced out, using my code name instead of my real one. We did that inside the clubhouse walls, though I preferred to use them all the time. While these people were my family, using the code names still had an air of detachment for me, which was the way I liked it.

  “Who the hell is this?”

  “The accountant’s daughter,” I said, giving her a once over. “He wasn’t home. She found me. I couldn’t very well leave her there to tell him what happened.”

  Widow Maker arched a brow. “You in the business of kidnapping now?”

  I kept my mask of indifference, not liking the way she was trying to peer into my very soul. Widow Maker had a knack for doing just that and I tried to stay out of her fucking way as much as I could. “What? Should I have killed her instead?”

  A gasp filled the room and I swore under my breath, heading toward the door. I was done with this shit.

  “Crankshaft.”

  My hand on the knob, I turned back to meet Widow Maker’s eyes.

  “Make sure you come back after I’ve had a chat with your captive here, alright?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I growled before stepping out into the night.

  Hell.

  Chapter 5

  Sabrina

  I hurt.

  Not just because I had been forced out of my house by that jerk, thrown on the back of a motorcycle, and had the most terrifying ride of my life.

  My epic sidewalk fail had done a number on my legs and they burned like wildfire.

  “I don’t know what I am going to do with that one,” Widow Maker muttered as she stared at the closed door.

  I stared at her, only because she was so beautiful, even with the tattoos on her arms, and wondered how she had gotten caught up in this bike club business. She looked strong, independent, everything I wasn’t.

  I just wanted to go back home.

  Finally, she turned toward me. “What’s your name?”

  “Sabrina,” I squeaked out. “Sabrina Cortez.”

  “You father is Joaquin?”

  I nodded. “He’s just a bank manager. I-I don’t know why y’all are after him. He’s done nothing wrong.”

  She sighed, motioning for me to follow her. I debated not doing so, but a part of me was scared to death of her, so I did. Widow Maker led me down a series of hallways before I found myself in a cozy office that was decidedly feminine given the furniture and color choice.

  “Sit,” she said, pointing to a light blue chair near a large desk.

  I did as she instructed and she pulled out a first aid kit from the cabinet on the wall.

  “Listen, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m here.”

  Widow Maker knelt in front of me, her mass of blonde hair obscuring part of her face as she opened the kit. “Your father, he’s the accountant for a club that does some pretty horrific things to people. We need him to give us their financial information so we can take them down.”

  “My father would never do something like that,” I blurted out, tears gathering in my eyes. “He’s a kind man, a gentle man. He doesn’t even like to run red lights.”

  Widow Maker looked up, sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sure he is, but people get involved in stupid things from time to time.” Her eyes dropped back to what she was doing as she continued. “And sometimes, the kindest people are the easiest to manipulate.” She glanced back up at me. “I’m trying to save his life before they realize he’s expendable.”

  My heart leapt into my throat. Now all the pieces were clicking into place. Now I knew why my father had run off in the middle of the night, why he had been so secretive about his trip, and why he had given me this card for safe keeping.

  Reaching down, I touched the top of my cell phone, glad to see it hadn’t been lost in the shuffle. It was my only link to my father.

  “Can you tell me about him?” Widow Maker asked as she dabbed at the scrapes on my legs.

  I winced at the sting, but the pain was nowhere near to the anguish I was feeling inside. “He’s a good man.”

  She chuckled. “I’m sure he is. I mean, can you think of anything that will help us find him? I’m not going to lie, we had plans to kill him, but now, I’m not so sure that’s the right answer.”

  They wanted to kill him, too. My heart sank at her honest words. My mother would be devastated. My father was the backbone of our entire family and life without him, I couldn’t picture it.

  I didn’t want to picture it. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  She looked up. “You don’t. One of our members broke into your house in the middle of the night and took you from your idyllic existence. You don’t know if we are going to let you go or kill you.”

  “That’s not a good way to make me feel better,” I uttered, my stomach roiling at the thought of what I was involved in.

  She gave a shrug, closing up the kit and standing. “I like to tell people the truth instead of sugar coating it. It’s easier that way when the disappointment comes.”

  I watched as she put the kit up, a flash of gold on her ring finger surprising me. She was married. This badass biker chick was married to someone. Briefly, my kidnapper’s face flitted through my mind and I pushed it away. The interaction between the two of them in the foyer had been hostile at best and he seemed more like the loner type than to be married to someone like her.

  I thought about how he had pressed his body up against mine in that alley as we waited for his backup and my cheeks heated once more at the memory. My thin pajamas hadn’t been a great barrier against the hardness of his body, and I’d felt him growing against my stomach with each passing moment. Embarrassingly, a flicker of heat had settled low in my stomach and I had fought the urge to touch him, to trace the thick line of ink that started at his neck.

  When he had finally stepped away, I thought I wouldn’t be able to walk on my wobbly legs, both relieved and disappointed at the sudden loss of heat that seemed to emanate off him.

  Crankshaft. That was a stupid name for him. I wanted to know his real name, his backstory hidden behind his golden eyes.

  “Don’t.”

  Shaking out of my thoughts, I found Widow Maker staring at me, a frown on her face. “What?”

  “Don’t fantasize about him.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  She smirked. “It was written all over your face, Sabrina. I’ve seen that look before. You think that he’s mysterious and dark, which will pull you in and make you wonder what made him that way. Trust me, honey, you don’t want anything to do with that one. A girl like you? He’s bad news.”

  A sudden rush of anger came over me at her words. A girl like me? What right did she have to judge me? She didn’t even know me. “So, you’re saying I’m not strong enough?”

  My words surprised her. “I’m not saying that at all. You just survived a kidnapping and by the looks of it, tried more than once to run away from him. I’m saying, hell, why are we talking about this anyway?” She put a hand on her hip as she reassessed the situation. “I need to know when you last saw your father. It’
s very important, Sabrina, that we find him first. He’s in a lot of danger.”

  The anger leaked out of me in an instant and I bit at my bottom lip. Could I trust her? If what she was saying was true, it sounded like these people were his best shot. “Give me your word you won’t kill him, and I will tell you everything.”

  “I can’t promise that.”

  I lifted my chin, giving her a dead stare. “Then I can’t tell you anything.”

  Her jaw clenched and for a moment, I thought she might reach for her own gun and shoot me. I was of no help to her if I didn’t talk. I was the expendable one.