Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(51)

Tears rip from my eyes as I sob, praying Zeek has a plan when he arrives. I want to be strong, but being tied to chair and having your life and unborn child’s threatened…all you can do is cry and hope.

“About that, Frank, I had an idea when you were away. What if we keep her, hide her away somewhere and let Zeek think we took her life. She’ll be ours until she gives birth. We can raise that bastard baby into the loyal leader we need. I know the place, and the people to put this kind of thing together.”

Frank nods, his lips twisting into approval. “See, that is why I need you by my side, Cross. Only you can think of that kind of shit. I love it.” He laughs like the Devil reincarnated. “He won’t even know she’s alive. She’ll be right under his nose the whole time, right up until she bears that child and we make it the ultimate weapon!”

A sound zips from the window, catching everyone’s attention. Suddenly a vase sitting on the counter explodes. Frank’s eyes furrow as he stands fully. “What the f*ck was that?” Cross strides toward the broken vase and bends down.

“It’s a shell.” Their eyes widen in fear as he yells out. “SNIPER!” Cross’s voice booms through the suite just as another bullet crashes through the window and lodges into a cabinet. “Get the f*ck down and take cover!” He continues to yell, another bullet whistles in passing, tearing into the Saran Wrap and my bicep.

Closing my eyes, I hold in a cry of pain. Blood oozes down my arm, warm and thick, burning like a bitch. I’ve got to get out of sight or I’m going to be hit again. Rocking myself I push the stool over, and I crash to the floor hard. My shoulder roaring with pain from the impact as I bite down on my lip to muffle my scream.

Everything goes silent, the only noise is my harsh breathing.

Finally, after a few seconds that feel like minutes, they stop. Everything is silent and still.

“We were set up, goddamn it!” Frank hollers.

“I told you just to kill that little prick.” Cross groans deeply as if he’s in pain. He must have been hit, too.

The doors to the suite are suddenly kicked in, and in steps Zeek and Lip. He has on dirty blue jeans and a black shirt that is taut along his chest. His chest is heaving, the look on his face resembling the damn Hulk. His eyes sweep over the suite before slowly landing on me.

My heart beats in slow motion, butterflies forming in the pit of my stomach. The corner of his mouth lifts into the smallest smirk. “Rookie,” he mouths, making my world come alive again.

I’m not going to die.

Felix and Lip step into the room, looking the scene over. A smile breaks through my frown, my chest warming. They’ll all here. To save me. The cop.

Cross’s shoulders rise and fall, his eyes building with rage as his face nearly turns purple.

“AAHH!” Cross hurdles himself across the room and attacks Zeek, they both crash to the ground. Cross slams his fist into Zeek’s face, before Zeek rolls over and returns the hit. The sound of fist on bone echoing throughout the hotel room.

Frank steps forward and Lip presses his gun into the back of his head, stopping him.

A blond haired guy with a Devil’s Dust cut on makes his way to me—Bobby, I think it was. He cuts the wrap around the chair with a Buck knife. Adrenaline pounds through my body so fast I don’t have the patience to wait for him to free my hands from the cuffs. I rip the Saran Wrap from my body, and run to help Zeek.

“Jillian, NO!” Zeek hollers as he spots me. Cross taking the advantage, gets the upper hand and is on top of Zeek, his hands around his neck. I don’t even give Zeek’s men the chance to interfere, I tense all my muscles, grit my teeth, and thrust my foot into Cross’s face as hard as I can. Rage drives my adrenaline. I want my gun, I want to kill him! Cross flies off Zeek, landing on his back. A dazed look crossing his face as his head makes contact with the floor roughly.

Zeek chokes, and pants rolling over on all fours.

An emotional growl erupts from my mouth, not feeling satisfied that Cross is still alive. I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants trying to calm myself, Zeek groaning behind me. My hands slide along a bulge in my pant pocket, reminding me of the cross from the rosary beads Zeek gave me. After all this time. It’s stayed with me, protecting me when Zeek wasn’t able to.

“Think of me or some shit” echoes in my mind. Nobody has ever stood up for Zeek. Assholes who terrorized him seemed to have bullied the only faithful few he’s had on his side.

Fishing it from my pants, my hands tied making it harder I pull it out, palming it. Flicking my gaze to Zeek, his eyes widen when he sees I’m not done.

“Jillian!”

Swallowing hard, my heart beats wildly against my chest as I look Cross in the eyes.

“I’m going to enjoy ripping you apart.” My words surprise me, coming from a dark place I never knew I had. Nonetheless, I don’t falter.

I step forward, crouching down and slam the end of the pendant into his chest with all my might. Blood spits across my face, but I’m not done yet. I dig it deeper and deeper, forcing the wound to open more and more. Blood starts to trickle from my palm as I watch his chin resting on his chest, his gaze cast downwards at the cross protruding from his chest. His dark eyes slowly find mine, realization that he might die tonight flaring behind them.

“You don’t mess with family.” I tug the cross from his chest, a sob leaving my mouth. Blood pours from the wound, his chest heaving with pain. I turn, the bloody pendant in my hand.