Page 21 of Going Down Smooth: Part One

As she stands, I bite back the possessive growl in my throat. Seeing her in my shirt; smelling all our scents warming her skin, it sends a primal need in me to mark her, to claim her as ours. I breathe through my mouth, trying to take the edge off. Only moments ago, her sweet arousal made me almost forget to have this conversation. I thought maybe it had been her heat that made me ache for her so bad, but it’s only been a few hours since it finished and the need is still there. I want her, just her. My cock twitches in my pants and Lox shifts in his seat right beside me. I guess I am not the only one.

We all watch her pace; we all silently agree through our bond to let this play out. Whatever happens, right here, right now, we’ve made our intentions clear. We want her, we’ve always wanted her. I was young, naïve, and heartbroken when I used my Alpha bark to command her to leave. I thought if I hurt her first, then the hurt she dealt wouldn’t sting so much. Again, I was foolish, and I know that now.

Mercy holds our future in her hands.

“I should have come back. I should have picked up the fucking phone. Now—now I’ll never get that back.” She shakes her head vehemently, and I can see Nate’s eyes soften, if one of us is to break first and try to gather her in his arms, it will be him.

“No,” I mouth.

Mercy continues, “I’ll never get to tell him I’m sorry. I should have shared my fears, but I didn’t think my fathers would listen, especially Christopher. I should have told you; you would have listened, but when you went along with everything. . .I freaked. I—I” Mercy pulls at her wild, untamed hair in frustration as she breaks down in front of us and we let her. She needs this.

Trey opens his mouth, only for Lox to kick him under the table and slowly shake his head no. We need to let this play out, no matter how hard it is to watch. I will personally pick her up off the floor when she’s ready.

Mercy turns her back to us and stares up at the ceiling. “This, an Omega, is who I am now. Like my sisters. . . Grace is happy, but Faith is not. Ugh! I can’t be what you want me to be. What the world wants me to be. I am meant for more, damn it. My father knew this. Fuck societal norms, it’s not me. It’s not who I am.” She turns around quickly, looking at us, pointing to her chest sharply and I know she is saying the last bit to the four of us, but we stay quiet, as if one false move will have all her carefully stacked cards come crashing down.

Tears run down her face slowly and I push back my chair and stand. I can’t bear to witness her crying, but Lox grabs my arm tight in a death grip, holding me steady. I bare my teeth at him, and the asshole offers me an unapologetic smile. “I can’t let Christopher tear down the good my father has done for this town, for his own selfish gains. Smooth Bourbon is mine, and I will do my best to make it more,” Mercy says as she wipes her eyes and blows out a breath, squaring her shoulders.

There’s my girl, pride in her unfurls in my heart.

“Sometimes, you have to get out of your own way,” she mutters softly. I have a feeling her words were not meant for just her ears but for all of us at the table. If we are going to make this work, we have to let go of the past and grasp the future with open arms. There will be so much push back, we need to be ready to protect Mercy, no matter the cost. An Omega with so much power and influence in our community is bound to shake this town up. This is why Benjamin wanted us by her side.

“I never—I never stopped—” Mercy pauses.

I hold my breath, heart pumping wildly at what I think she’s going to say. I want to jump up and admit the same, but I keep my lips closed.

“Never stopped what, Merce?” Nate asks, jumping on the abrupt pause. I think we all wanted to utter the same words.

Mercy looks at Nate, her eyes watering as another tear spills down her cheek. She wipes them as soon as they fall. “Loving you,” she whispers.

“I wanted to hate you.” She looks at Lox, then Trey and finally me. Mercy shrugs. “I thought if I built you up as the bad guys it wouldn’t break me to leave you the way I did. I held on to the picture I painted but it never stuck. It wasn’t true. What I did. . .it’s unforgiveable. To be rejected it’s—"

“Fuck that, Mouse. None of it matters. What matters is this,” Lox says, his arms raise to encompass everyone in the room. “I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of my pack, our pack. What did I call you this morning, Mouse?” He stands and closes the distance between the two of them until he towers over her. Mercy keeps her eyes locked to his, her throat bobs. Lox reaches out and strokes her face, and I’m envious suddenly of the moment they shared in the shower this morning. But Mercy and I will have our time, and I have a lot of making up to do.

“What did I call you this morning, Mouse?” Lox asks once more as he drops to his knees before her, bowing his head in submission. Trey and Nate’s eyes go wide with disbelief, not even looking to me to gauge my reaction before following Lox’s lead. I watch them stand and walk over to Mercy, dropping to their knees, and lowering their heads. I wait for my instincts to scream at me to stop this display, for my stomach to churn with the need to control what is happening, they are Alphas, not Betas. But there are no alarm bells going off inside of me. The air feels thick with anticipation, as if some mystical magic is swirling all around us, waiting, pulsing to bind us together on a subatomic level. My decision, the final piece of the puzzle. This is Mercy’s Pack. If I am going to submit to anyone, it will be her. I know there is a deep part of me that already has.

I lock eyes with Mercy who shifts from foot to foot, the only indication that she is slightly uncomfortable with what is happening. “Are you going to answer him, Mercy? What did Lox call you this morning?” I ask, my voice deeper, lascivious, my cock hard from just the thought of being on my knees before her. I walk the short distance between us, reaching her side, forcing her to incline her head back to look up at me. I stare her down, putting the full force of my Alpha power behind it. I never want her to feel she has to cower for anyone, especially not us. Mercy needs to know and believe she is strong enough now to do this, to hold up this pack and be our strength. She holds my gaze and I search for any sign of fear, finding none. She doesn’t shy away or flinch, instead she locks me in place for what feels like hours, although I know it is only mere seconds. Then her lips pull up in a brilliant smile and my heart fills with the love I thought I lost for this woman.

“Alpha,” she finally says, eyes still locked on mine. One word. The power behind it, immeasurable, she is my Alpha and my Omega. Mercy Smooth is the beginning and the end of us all.

I slowly lower myself to my knees, hell, I will lay prostrate if she asks. I thought it would feel wrong, that it would take all my will to get down on the floor before her, but it is easy to give in, to let go. I love her that much. We love her that much.

“Pack Biggs is now Pack Smooth,” I say to her, head still bowed, making her gasp at the certainty in my voice. I know publicly we would never be acknowledged this way, but she needs to know that we are all in. Our show of submission, a declaration of our devotion, of a love for her we never lost. If there is any more doubt in her mind about who we are to her, I hope this squashes it. She leads and we will follow, she is our center, the glue that holds us together now and forever.

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” she says, the shock evident in her voice. We all nod silently. We didn’t plan to do this, we’d hoped to have a lengthy discussion about rekindling our relationship, courting her, mating her properly, but leave it to Lox to get straight to the point. I don’t care about a mating ceremony and neither do my brothers. An unnecessary formality. In this moment, this is our promise to her, to each other.

As if on cue, all four of us speak in unison.

“Yes, Alpha.”

THIRTEEN

MERCY

FIVE YEARS AGO

“Ithink I want Mr. Park’s job. I’ve finally decided,” I say to my father with satisfaction on my tongue as I follow him through the distillery. I wipe my brow, uncapping the water bottle in my hand and tipping it back to take a deep drink. I am feeling unusually hot today, but it could be the heat in the distillery getting to me. Finishing the water, I opt to hold on to the empty bottle until we passed a recycling bin on the other side of the factory. I hurry after my father, picking up my pace to match his, it almost seems symbolic as I step where he steps, my feet landing where his once were. One day this will be mine and I hope I will make him proud. I won’t fail.

“You can’t be Master Distiller, Mercy.” My father chuckles before he stops in front of a row of aged barrels. Standing six foot tall, my father always seems like a giant to me. Our eyes are the same shade of brown, his skin a deep dark umber, his hair is cut short, black, slightly graying at the temples but I think he is aging prematurely due to the stress of his job. He wears black trousers, with a crisp white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He always discards his suit coat when we’re on the factory floor, getting his hands dirty as he likes to say. Walking along the line, I follow closely, watching every move he makes as he checks the dates, making mental notes of each barrel.

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