Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(96)

I feel Emerson’s presence behind me. The look on his face is confident as I spin around and nod. “They got him.”

His doesn’t look as surprised or as relieved as I expected. He calmly replies, “Thank God.”

There’s an audible celebration in the living room when they overhear the news.

“Yeah. He turned himself in,” Fitz adds, and I freeze.

“He did?”

“Yeah. Just between you and me, someone must have gotten to him first. He looked pretty roughed up when he came into the station.”

“What?” I ask in confusion. Who would have…

Then, as I lift my eyes, I stare across the kitchen at the man leaning calmly against the countertop. He’s wearing a knowing expression, and I nearly drop the phone out of my hand.

I’m assaulted by guilt when I remember attacking him the other night and judging his love for his son. I should have known better, and I will never doubt it again.

“It was nothing serious,” Fitz adds. “A guy like that causes problems, so he should expect to receive them too. He won’t press charges against whoever it was. I’m almost sure of it.”

“I hope not…” I reply softly.

A moment later, I hear footsteps on the stairs, and I know it’s Beau coming down when he should be sleeping. I rush into the front room to greet him.

“I’m sorry, were we being too loud?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m just not tired. I hate lying up there alone when everyone’s here. Plus, I’ve been in bed for three days. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Take it easy, please,” I say in warning, but he tilts his head at me.

“Stop babying me.”

As he reaches the bottom of the stairs, I take a look at his bandage, checking that it doesn’t need to be changed. Then I grab his arms and pull him closer. “Don’t get bossy with me. I’m taking care of you, now get over it.”

His eyes move from my face to something behind me, and I turn to see Emerson watching us uncomfortably. I jerk my hand away from Beau. This is really going to take some getting used to. Since everyone found out about us, no one has really seen us together or said anything. It’s the giant elephant in every room.

“She’s right, Beau. You need to rest,” Emerson adds, agreeing with me. Which I’d appreciate, if I didn’t have to worry about how Beau feels about this.

“Oh great,” he snaps. “Now I have two people bossing me around.” He’s in a bad mood, and not a cute bad mood. Normally when he gets like this, I can get tough with him, but with everyone around, it’s a little hard to step into that role. Emerson’s still getting used to us being together. I don’t think he’s ready to see me force his son into submission.

Beau brushes past me as Emerson gives me a concerned expression.

I shrug and follow Beau into the kitchen. “I heard the news,” he grumbles, reaching for a glass and filling it with water.

“Let me get your painkillers,” I say when I notice him wincing.

“I can do it!” he snaps, and my eyes widen as I stare at him. Oh no, we’re not going back to the way it was that day he lost his temper on me. He knows that’s a road we don’t travel down anymore. My fists clench as I fight the urge to be firm with him.

“Watch your tone,” Emerson says in a warning, and I spin on him, giving him a rage-filled glare. I’m about two seconds from screaming at everyone in my house. Having him here is throwing everything off and I hate it.

“I can handle it,” I mutter with my teeth clenched. I mean, how would he feel if I went over to his house and started barking orders at Charlie? Can’t imagine that would go over well.

Tensions are high and I can see the way that affects Beau. He looks miserable, tired, frustrated and ready to burst. Maybe the painkillers will help, so I bite my tongue and take my coffee into the living room with the others. They’re discussing increased security and the possibility of having to offer public escorts for members to and from their cars.

I hate this. I hate that our members feel like they’re risking their safety by coming to our club. A moment ago, we seemed confident that the problem would pass. But suddenly, Beau’s here, and his injury is a harsh reminder that things can get serious very fast. And lives aren’t something we can gamble with.

“That’s a great idea,” Emerson says to Hank, who offers the suggestion. Emerson has been carrying a look of guilt since the night it happened, and I don’t know how much he knows about what happened, if Beau ever told him what the attacker said before he hit him. He knew Beau was Emerson’s son; the attack was targeted. It’s important information, but I know it has to be hard for Emerson to hear.

“If the protesters come back, we have the option for support from the police, if we feel it will get violent again,” he adds.

On the couch, I see Beau growing more tense and frustrated.

“At what point do we consider closing down?” The words come out of my mouth, but I immediately regret them. The room grows silent as everyone stares at me with expressions of disbelief.

But it’s Beau who speaks up.

“Fuck that,” he snaps with a scowl.

“Beau…” I say, staring at him with a harsh look in my eyes.

“No. You can’t cower to these ignorant fuckers. And your members won’t either.”