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“Bad dreams?”
“Probably. I don’t remember them, but I feel like there must have been.”
“I friggin’ hate that,” she says. “It’s like acid reflux or something. That shitty feeling lingering afterwards.”
She’s right, and it makes me smile again. “Yeah, exactly. I just needed someone to talk to, I guess. There’s so much going on in my head, and I can’t go to the guys, for obvious reasons.”
Scarlett hums in agreement, then sighs softly. “Mercy… I’m worried.”
“About what?”
“About you,” she says. “Do you think maybe you’re getting in too deep?” I open my mouth to reply, but she rushes on, finishing her thought. “I know you want to get back at the Black Roses. I really do, and I totally understand why. Sloan killing your dad is horrible, and I wouldn’t be able to look past that either. But… if you fuck with their money, that’s big. That’s huge, Mercy. It’s unforgivable. If they find out who gave the Jackals the info, they’ll kill you too.”
She’s not wrong. A few days ago, I filled Scarlett in on what I learned from snooping through Levi’s phone and the guys’ rooms. She’s been supportive as hell, but even then, I could see the worry in her face. And I can’t blame her. It’s a dangerous game to play, and considering what happened to Dad because he fucked up one of the Black Roses’ business dealings, it could go pretty badly for me if they found out.
But I can’t stop. I have to follow through on this. It’s the only way I’m ever going to get the closure I need from this whole fucking mess. I’m in too deep now to pull back.
“It’ll be okay, Scar,” I tell her, hoping I sound convincing.
She sighs again, and I know she doesn’t believe me, but there’s not much choice in the matter. She probably knows that too.
“You always say that,” she murmurs. “I just wish it was true sometimes.”
That sparks a laugh out of me that sounds more bitter than anything else. “Yeah. Me too.”
“I love you, Mercy. Okay? Be careful.”
“I love you too, Scar. I will.”
It’s the way we end most of our conversations these days. Scarlett practically begging me to be careful and me promising I will. I think I’ve been living up to it lately. Sure, there have been risks, but I haven’t been caught yet. My tracks are covered, and none of the guys know anything is going on. It’s the best plan I’ve got, and I can’t give up now.
There’s a soft click when the call ends, and I lie back on the bed for a second before rolling onto my side and then getting up. I can’t just laze around all day, even though it sounds fucking tempting as hell.
I get dressed and open my door, my stomach growling. Maybe I’ll make an omelet or something for a late breakfast and hope that makes me feel better.
Before I can get to the stairs, I run into Rory. He’s dressed down and comfortable looking, and he does that thing where he gives me a slow once over when he sees me. I’m just wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt, but appreciation still lights up his eyes.
“Hey, Hurricane. Can you help me with something?” he asks, turning on the big, pleading eyes.
In spite of myself, I laugh. “I think you’re beyond help, Rory. I’m sorry to be the one to break that to you.”
He rolls his eyes but still looks amused. “No, I need help with an actual, practical problem. Only your expertise will do.”
“Okay, sure,” I agree, and he grins, leading me to his bedroom.
This is only the third time I’ve ever actually been in his room, and I have a vivid memory of the first time, when I burst in on him while he was only wearing a towel. That seems like such a
long time ago.
I snuck in once while all the guys were gone to rummage around and look for shit. This time, I’ve been invited in, and that makes all the difference. It’s a nice room, and it reflects his personality. Homey touches everywhere, but mostly neat. He acts like a chaotic mess sometimes, but really he’s organized and dependable under all of that.
“So what’s going on?” I ask, tearing my eyes away from his bed, which is mostly made.
“It’s Piper’s birthday soon,” he explains. “And I need to pick out a gift for her. Can you help me?” He turns on the puppy dog eyes again, and I hate how charming it is.
My brows furrow. “Why are you asking me? She’s your daughter.”
“I know.” He makes a face. “It’s just this feels like the first birthday where she’s really fully aware of things, you know? The first few were just for me and Jen, really. We got her presents and everything, but who knows if it was stuff she actually wanted. Now she has opinions.”
