Jackson (Mercy Ring Book 1)

River shot a quick glance across to Jackson. Yep. Still stony as hell. In fact, it was entirely possible that throughout the twenty-minute drive to Angel’s apartment, everything about him had become…harder.

“You realize Angel might just know what happened to Ryker, and this all ends today.” She didn’t want to get her hopes up, because if she thought she was going to find her brother, but then she didn’t…well, that would be like wrenching her heart from her chest and tearing it in two.

“It’s also entirely possible that she’s in on everything and this little visit leads us to more danger.”

“True. But to me, it’s worth the risk.”

His knuckles whitened around the wheel. “Ryker wouldn’t agree.”

“Of course not. He thinks I’m made of glass and need around-the-clock protection so I don’t shatter.”

Jackson scoffed, eyes remaining on the road. When the man remained silent, she lifted a brow. “Anything you’d like to say?”

“Ryker never thought you were made of glass. He knew exactly how tough you were. Me too.” Her heart gave one big jolt against her ribs. “But I also know that you can make poor decisions that land you into precarious situations.”

“When have I ever—”

“Tenth grade. You went to that douchebag senior’s party, Greg Halper. And even though you knew exactly what he wanted, you still went into his pool house with him. Alone.”

She cringed. Yeah, that hadn’t been her brightest idea, but she’d been upset. Only a couple hours earlier, she’d walked into Ryker’s room to find Jackson making out with some blond bimbo on the bed.

She’d felt heartbroken. Reckless. Emotional. And the sixteen-year-old River had needed validation that someone was interested in her.

Jackson’s biceps rippled. “You’re damn lucky I saw you go in there.”

He was right. Greg had all but thrown himself on top of her, and Jackson had torn the guy off before beating the crap out of him. “Okay, that was bad decision-making, but I was a teenager. I’m not anymore.”

Jackson raised a brow. “Yet you’re still making dangerous, emotionally driven decisions.”

“Shouldn’t all decisions be emotionally driven?”

“No. Most should be made with your head.”

“Pfft. Is that some military spiel?”

“No, it’s a ‘this is how you stay alive’ spiel.”

“Same thing. By the way, how would you know whether or not the decision I made with Greg was driven by emotion?”

He shot a look her way, and her stomach clenched. “I saw your face when you walked into Ryker’s room that night, when you saw me with that girl. But even if I hadn’t, I knew how you felt about me.”

She frowned, a mixture of embarrassment and confusion swelling in her stomach. “Even before I—”

“Yes. Even before you told me.”

He pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot of a large, old apartment building. For a moment, neither of them moved or spoke.

There were so many things she wanted to say. So many questions she had for him. How long had he known? How had he known? Had he seen some lovesick look on her face? Had Ryker realized and told him?

Now wasn’t the time for that.

Pushing it all to the back of her mind, she undid her seat belt and was about to climb out but paused when Jackson reached beneath the driver’s seat and tugged out a gun. His eyes never met hers as he climbed out of the car and holstered the weapon. When his door closed, she climbed out of her own side. She’d barely closed the door when Jackson was beside her, hand on the small of her back.

“Remember, if I say go, we—”

“Go. I know.” How could she forget? He’d reminded her a gazillion times.

His hand remained on her back as they headed inside, his heat penetrating through the thin material of her shirt. Jackson’s eyes never stopped flicking around.

River took in the interior of the building. It was rundown, and that was putting it mildly. The lights in the foyer were flickering, and the place smelled musty and moldy.

Jackson led her into the elevator, pressing a button. His hand never left her, not the entire way up to the sixth floor. She shot a couple peeks in his direction, and each time his expression looked just as stony as it had in the car.

When they reached Angel’s floor, Jackson stepped out first, shooting a quick glance down the hallway before that hand returned, and he led her out. They stopped outside her apartment.

Jackson was still looking down the hall, his hand now pressed against her in a way that said he was moments from tossing her over his shoulder and running, as she raised her hand to knock.

When nothing sounded from the other side of the door, River knocked again. “Angel, are you there? It’s River.”

On her third knock, she hit the wood a little harder—and suddenly, the door creaked as it pushed in.

Immediately, she tugged her hand back. What the—

“I don’t like this,” Jackson said softly. “We need to leave.”

Anxiety bubbled in her chest. “No, Jackson. Maybe she’s—”

The sound of footsteps on the stairs cut her off. But not just footsteps. Voices. Men’s voices.

Before she could move, Jackson pulled her inside the apartment, closing the door silently behind them. They’d barely stepped into the living room when they saw her.

Angel. Tied to a chair, bruised and battered, with crimson blood dripping from the knife wound across her neck.

River’s stomach dropped and a loud buzzing rang in her ears. Her lips separated, and she wasn’t sure if she was going to scream or be sick.

Before she could do either, Jackson’s hand clamped over her mouth and he tugged her backward.

A door opened—a closet, maybe?—then there was darkness.

River’s heart pounded against her ribs, nausea she could barely suppress crawled up her throat.

Jackson’s lips went to her ear. “I need you to not make a sound, Rae.”

His other hand was around her waist and arms. He held her tightly, and she was almost certain that if he wasn’t, she’d have fallen to the floor. Something he probably knew.

Her heart catapulted into her throat at the sound of the apartment door opening. Then heavy footsteps hit the wooden floorboards.

“Christ, this bitch was so stupid. Who the hell goes crying about illegal shit in a club? It’s like she wanted to die.” The man’s voice wasn’t familiar.

Rustling noises sounded. Oh God, were they moving Angel’s body? She pressed her eyes closed, begging the bile to stay put in her stomach.

Jackson’s thumb began to move in small, soothing circles on her arm. She breathed slowly through her nose, focusing on his touch. On his warmth against her back. And not on whatever those men were doing with the woman’s body.

“How do you think she found out?” a second guy asked.

“Probably slept with Mickey or one of his guys. She was a dumb whore.”

A zipper sounded.

“You think she slept with Ryker?”

River flinched at her brother’s name on the lips of those murderers.

“Probably. She fucked her way through half the club. What I wanna know is what Elijah plans to do about Ryker’s sister.”

This time, it was Jackson who tensed.

“Maybe nothing. We just heard the bitch say she thought Angel knew something. There was no mention of what she knew. Now that Angel’s dead, problem solved. He knows we can’t go around murdering everyone at the club. It will draw too much attention he doesn’t need.”

“Elijah doesn’t fear shit. He gets what he wants.”

More movement.

“Oh, yeah? Like he got what he wanted with that fucker Josef?”

The other guy cursed. “I can’t believe that asshole skipped town and now we can’t fucking find him.”

“I can. He was a small-time crook who only killed Ryker because he was in Elijah’s debt. He knew once the job was done, he was a loose end. I would have fucked off, too.”

River’s insides iced over as she felt every part of Jackson behind her harden.

“Yeah, yeah.” A few more rustling sounds. “Hey, why do I have to carry her?”

“Because I have a sore fucking back. And one of us needs to clean the chair and floor.”

The guy grunted. “Fine.”

“What about that guy, Jackson…the one taking Ryker’s place? You think he’s gonna figure out the same stuff Ryker did?”

“Mickey never should’ve let the asshole in. He’s being reckless. His need to prove he’s got bigger balls than Elijah is gonna get him killed.”

Another grunt. “He sees the club as his turf.”

“But it’s not,” the other man said firmly. “It’s ours now. Something that asshole needs to learn.”

Someone sprayed something, then there was the scraping of a chair.

“You done?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The second River heard the door closing in the other room, she tried to move, but the arms around her tightened, holding her in place.

Jackson’s mouth went to her ear again. “Just wait a sec, honey.”

They remained like that for a full five minutes, Jackson stroking her arm, his breath brushing against her cheek. When he finally released her, she opened the door slowly, and her gaze went to the spot where Angel’s body had been.

Gone. And any trace that it had been there was also gone. The smell of antiseptic was strong, souring her stomach.

River sucked in deep breaths, pressing a hand to her belly. “I’m going to be sick.”

His fingers twined with hers and tugged her toward the door. “Hold on for me, okay, honey?”

She continued to suck in deep breaths as Jackson tugged her out the door and down the stairs. They’d barely stepped outside when she threw up everything she’d eaten earlier that morning.

Jackson’s hand was on her back, rubbing more slow circles. Calming her.

When they got back to the car, Jackson opened her door before sliding behind the wheel. They were silent the entire way back to her house. Jackson’s jaw was tense and his muscles bunched.

It wasn’t until he pulled into her driveway that he spoke, breaking the quiet. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes remained on the passenger window. “It’s my fault.”

“What is?”

“That she was killed. They were talking about my phone call with Michele. We talked just before I saw the camera. I told Michele that Angel knew something about Ryker and the club, and I needed to find out what it was.”

Guilt rippled through her chest, crippling her. If she’d only kept her mouth shut, maybe the woman would have kept her life.

And right there, alongside the guilt, was shame. For feeling relieved that Cole had stopped her from meeting Angel today. Because if he hadn’t, she’d probably be dead as well, right? How sick was that? To feel relieved at a moment like this.

Jackson’s hand went to her chin, gently tugging her head his way. “None of this is your fault.”

She watched his eyes, not able to nod because she didn’t believe that for a second.

His jaw visibly ticked. “We have no idea how long the cameras were there, or what else they heard.”

“I don’t think I said much else in the house.” She couldn’t be sure though. Her brain felt foggy as hell right now.

“We learned a couple of things today. That the cameras belonged to Elijah. That he’s willing to kill to protect whatever his secret is. And that he’s responsible for Ryker.” He dipped his head, moving closer. “I promise you, with everything I am, that I will get to the bottom of what happened to your brother—and Elijah and his men will pay.”

She swallowed, giving a small nod. If there was anyone in the world she trusted to solve this, it was Jackson.