Page 110 of Built for Mercy


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“I’ll always be serious about you, Soph. Will you marry me?”

“You always surprise me,” she said softly. “But that’s one reason why I love you.” Her words hung in the air like a promise. Then she turned to beam at me. “I will absolutely marry the fuck out of you, Mav.”

Now she stopped in front of me, her shoulders dropping in relief. I waited with bated breath for her to say something.

“It’s done,” she murmured.

“How do you feel?”

Her eyes glimmered with tears. “Better than I could imagine. I hope my dad’s soul can rest in peace now.” She exhaled loudly. “Thank you for following through on your promise to help me avenge my father. I’ve been carrying this weight for more than ten years. I built my whole career on the motive of finding his killers, and now…”

The frown on her face concerned me.

“Now I don’t have to pretend anymore.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think she wanted me to say anything at all, actually. Just listen to her. Be here for her. Igathered her into my arms and held her. Her hands clasped me tightly behind my back, squeezing.

“I promise I’m good,” she insisted.

“I know you are.”

“Now it’s your turn. I’ll follow your lead.”

***

Turns out, for once, having her follow my lead meant walking into the unknown—because I didn’t have a fucking clue what I was doing.

All I knew was that I needed to find a way to keep the cartel intact once we took my family out. For days, Sophie and I planned with Duane and Paulie. They discussed among themselves, spreading word through the underground circuit in ways only they knew how to do. I had other things on my plate that I needed to worry about.

Like all the operations of the club. Final permit inspections and approvals for the casino, the sex club, the renovations. Adjusting to a full-time life with Sophie by trying to not stay at home in bed all fucking day when it was so tempting to forget all my responsibilities and get lost in my wife.

But I couldn’t. She knew that, I knew that. We spent as much time as we could together, and she often came with to the club to strategize, but she also liked to give me space. I didn’t like it, not one bit. Yet she insisted that we still maintain some sort of separation in our lives. What she planned to do was beyond me. She said she was working on something, but I had yet to find out any details, and I didn’t press her.

We never did that to each other. We confided in one another when we were ready to share. That mutual respect built confidence in our foundation. There was no hiding anything, just… trusting each other and our judgment.

Nearly two weeks after the altercation with my parents, I received a text, and it weighed on me so heavily I thought I might suffocate. I debated for hours whether to share it with Sophie. I knew what she would say, but my heart was pulling me in a different direction.

And I thought that maybe—just maybe—there was a chance to avoid a lifetime of pain and hurt.

52

Sophie

Kendrick 9:28 AM

You’ve rocked the boat enough. We hear you. Let’s meet and come to a truce.

The message came from Maverick’s oldest brother—words that seemed nice enough but were most definitely coated with venom. I fought to school my features as Mav showed me the text before taking the phone back.

There was no way he was deliberating this… until our gazes met, and I saw the tension bracketing the corners of his mouth. My stomach plummeted.

“You can’t seriously be considering this. It’s a trap. It’s so blatantly a goddamn trap.”

Maverick’s jaw clenched, the midnight blue of his eyes dimming when he narrowed them at me. The way he rubbed his stubbled chin told me he was contemplating the offer, weighingit against the instinctual warning sounding throughout my nervous system.

We’d spent the last two weeks “rocking the boat,” as his brother said. Rumors here and there. Photos, voice memo clips of hushed conversations about the sex trafficking that a majority of the cartel was against. Undeniable proof of the sick and twisted ways of his family.

“Come on, Soph,” he said, his voice tight with frustration that was simmering beneath the surface. “What if it’s not? What if this is the chance to put an end to all of this bullshit?”