Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(11)

I can’t get over that Lieutenant Oaks was Jillian’s father, how did she come from that piece of shit? I want to tell her everything about the man he was, but I’m not that big of an *. I can see she’s barely hanging on to reality by a goddamn thread. If she knew the truth about everything there is no telling how she would react.

She needs time to process one loss at a time, first the loss of her department. If I’m not careful I could not only lose her for good, but that stubborn spark that ignites deep inside of her.

“Hey, man. Why so bummed.” I glance up, finding a young hipster staring down at me. He has on some fisherman looking hat, blond hair spilling out from under it.

“Fuck off,” I growl.

“Hey, make peace, not war, bro.” He lowers his hand, offering me a smoking blunt. “Go ahead, you need it more than me obviously.” He chuckles.

I take it, and take a long drag off it. I hold the smoke in, before blowing it out into the night air.

It’s good shit, it smells of skunk with tones of earthy green. I’ve had better though.

“Names Ducky,” he informs, as he sits down crossing his legs.

I scrunch my face. “Ducky?”

“Yeah.” He smacks his lips together looking off into the night’s sky, not offering a reason why he might be named after a f*cking duck.

“So, why ya so angry?” I take another drag from the joint, and ignore him. I shouldn’t be out here. I should be in there securing my face in Jillian’s space, letting her know I’m here to stay regardless of how hard she tries to push me away.

“I get it, not the talkative type.” Ducky interrupts my thoughts.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, I hand it back to him and stand.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” I tell Ducky, watching him scramble to his feet. “Thanks for the weed.” I leave not giving him a chance to respond.

It’s not because I’m a dick, well, I am, but that’s not why I am leaving. I just don’t trust easily, especially outsiders. Those who are not bikers, or know the code that I live by.

Stepping back inside, Jillian is standing in a towel in front of a cracked mirror. Her dirty blonde hair dripping wet, as she attempts to finger comb it into submission. Little beads of water slip down her back, and my dick strains against my jeans. It feels like years since I’ve been in that tight little cunt of hers. I want to bend her over that bed and f*ck her while the old couple watches. My palms twitch to claim every inch of her skin, to have her moan against my neck and insure myself that she still belongs to me.

I hate feeling this insecure, but she did this to me. I hate being this messed up over someone…someone I threw everything away for and she doesn’t even realize that. If that isn’t love, or f*cking romantic, then I’m screwed as far as women and relationships go.

“Dear, I have some clothes I was going to give our Leslie, but I just know she’d want you to have them. You look to be about the same size.” Mildred offers, pointing to a bag on the dresser.

“Oh, I can’t do that.” Jillian turns, shaking her head. She’s so humble, so nice that she would rather be in her bloody clothes that are stained with her father’s death, than take an offer of clean clothes from a little old lady.

“That bag?” I point toward the one I think she’s referring to. I’m not so nice, I’ll take those clothes and put them on Jillian if I have to. A piece of me hopes she’ll fight me so I can put them on her. My dick twitches with excitement.

“Yes, that one,” Mildred confirms.

Striding toward it, I grab it and toss it at Jillian. She glares at me, her eyes red from crying.

“You can’t run around in that bloody uniform, you’ll draw attention.” I inform her, trying to keep my tone soft so I don’t upset her more than I have. She yanks the bag open and looks inside.

“Are we leaving after I dress?” Her eyes peek up at me from under her wet bangs. Her cheeks red from the hot shower.

“Just put something on for the night. We’ll leave in a few hours, we need sleep.”

Clutching the bag, she purses her lips, and steps back into the bathroom.



Jillian



DROPPING THE TOWEL, it pools at my feet. I reach into the bag and pull out a white button up blouse, and pull it over me. It’s big. How Mildred thought we were the same size is beyond me. It’s three sizes too big, fitting as a nightgown, but it’ll work for a few hours of sleep. It’s actually pretty comfortable, even if the cuffs of the sleeves hang off my fingers by at least two inches.

Tossing the bag on the counter, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I hate that we’re staying here, but the bags under my eyes disagree. Zeek has never steered me wrong before, and as bitter as I am about everything happening, I do love him. He said he loved me before, but I lost sight of that after everything that happened. Him picking me over his club speaks volumes, reminding me of the reason why I fell for him in the first place. I may not understand what happened with my father, but he was right about my department being as dirty as they come. If I want to live to prove my innocence, I’m going to have to get with the program and stop being such a pain in the ass. Even if that means I’m going to have to get my own hands dirty to do so.

My heart strikes with fear just thinking about it, fear licking up my limbs.