“I’ll calm down when Mercy can tell me what the fuck she’s doing riding around with Colt Darling,” Saint thunders.
She flinches, glancing back at the driver.
He shrugs. “Guess now you know my name too, Red.”
“He has a nickname for you?” Saint asks, his voice going deadly quiet.
She’s gone a little green, and I watch her gulp. Even Heath won’t provoke Saint when he’s mad quiet. He stands aside, ready to rumble as always but subdued now, watching.
Mercy opens her mouth to answer, but before she can, a little face pops out from the back seat, where the windows are tinted so we can’t see inside. “Hey, guys,” says my little cousin, pushing up her glasses and offering a cheerful grin. “Don’t worry, your girl was supervised at all times.”
Mercy turns and gives her a look I can’t read, which makes me curious what she was doing to end up with Dynamo and Hemingway. Obviously she was watching the girls fight at the Slaughterpen, maybe sizing up Salem Sincero. But why is she coming home with these two?
“Thanks, Hemi,” I say, then turn to Dynamo. “You better get her home. It’s late, and her dad won’t like her riding around alone with an older guy.”
“Whoa,” Dynamo says, holding up both hands. “She’s a fucking baby. Don’t even go there.”
“Rude,” my cousin protests. “I’m not a baby.”
“He’s right, you are,” I say. “Now go home. It’s past your bedtime. And I’ll be checking your location until I see you made it, so don’t even think about turning it off.”
“Red?” calls Dynamo.
“I’m good,” Mercy says. “You can go.”
“You think that guy is going to protect you?” Saint grits out. “Fromus?”
I mouth for them to go before closing the door. They can only make it worse by staying, and they must know that, because after a slight hesitation, the truck pulls away from the curb. Saint is still glowering at Mercy, refusing to even glance at anyone else.
“Let’s just go to my room,” she says. “I’m tired. I’ll explain everything there.”
All twelve of us wait for Saint’s verdict, to see if he’ll make her lay it all out in front of the Hellhounds the way he wanted her put on display in the library. But this time, he must decide that whatever she has to say is more private than her pussy, because he gives a curt nod and turns away, dragging her along by her arm. She lets out a gasp and trips over the curb, but she quickly rights herself, wrapping an arm around her middle and hanging her head as she follows him toward the dorms.
“Y’all can go,” Heath says to the others. “We’ve got this.”
The other Hellhounds are brothers, but they’re more like fraternity brothers than blood brothers. Heath and Saint are blood to me, as much my brothers as Seraphim or Xavier. The other guys dab us up, and then they head back to their parties or beds. A few grumble, but they don’t really care. We have each other’s backs on campus. That’s what they’re here for, just like we’d roll out of bed and come join them if one of their sisters was in trouble. We weren’t sure what situation Mercy had gotten herself into, but from my cousin’s text, it didn’t sound good. The Hellhounds were ready for a fight, whatever that meant.
Heath and I hurry to catch up with Saint, who’s stalking across campus at a fast clip, still gripping Mercy’s arm like she might slip away again if he lets her go for even a second.
“Is it my imagination, or is Mercy walking a little funny?” I ask my uncle.
“Probably still sore from taking it up the ass,” he says with a feral grin. “It’s only been a few days.”
“Does it usually last that long?”
He scowls at me. “How would I know?”
I shrug. “None of us would care if you did, you know.”
“Who is‘us’?” he demands.
“Me and Saint,” I say. “Our families.”
He snorts. “You think your machismo dad, or Saint’s asshole dad, would agree?”
“You know what? Fuck them if they don’t,” I say. “I don’t care, okay? And neither does Saint. Or the Master. Or Mercy.”
“Yeah, because she’s so open minded.”
