Page 16 of Resuscitation
“Where are they?” Mercer demanded. “Give us the rubies, and we’ll let you live. Hold out, and I’m cutting off your fingers one by one.”
Connor appeared alongside Mercer. “We haven’t much time,” he whispered.
Mercer nodded, not taking his gaze from Watts, who moved to sit up against one of the safe room’s walls. The tiny space, probably once a closet, was filled to the max with the four men.
“You know they’re cursed,” Watts said. “Those jewels are bad news. They’ve got some curse on whoever holds ‘em. Your grandfather told us. Right before your dad killed him.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Mercer growled.
Watts let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, you didn’t know? Stealing them was your old man’s idea. I was only along for the ride. Jamie got into a big fight with your grandpa and killed him. But then your dad turned on me, tried to kill me, so I took the Stars and ran. Damn things ruined my life.”
There was a stunned silence.
Watts held up one clenched hand and opened his fingers to reveal five brilliant rubies. “Ruined my life, after they ruined your dad’s. He killed your granddad. The rubies drove him insane with greed.”
Mercer gritted his teeth, fury boiling through him. “That’s complete bullshit. How dare you, how fucking dare you!”
Watts fixed him a level stare. “Like it or not, Andy, it’s the truth. As for the rubies, they’ve never done me any good. You boys are welcome to ‘em.”
With a flick of his wrist, Watts tossed them at Mercer, who couldn’t help but follow them with his gaze, straining to see where they landed in the ghostly vision the NVGs provided.
Watts pulled a pistol with his other hand.
A loud bang filled the small space.
Mercer didn’t even think, he spun back, raised his weapon and pumped a series of rounds into Watts’s chest and head.
When he was finally done, Mercer shouted at the slumped, lifeless, and bloody pulp on the floor. “Eat that, you fuck!” He slowly lowered his weapon and turned. “Now let’s find those?—”
Mercer stopped and stared, dumbfounded, at his brother, on the ground, clutching his belly with blood-drenched fingers.
ChapterEight
Friday,February 13th, 8:17 P.M.
“Connor!”
Mercer dropped to his knees, staring down at his brother, whose face was getting paler by the second. “Fuck, no, no, no!” he stuttered.
That bastard Watts had caught Connor with a bullet just below the vest.
This was bad.
Mercer looked up at Brick, who stood by the safe room door, looking stunned. “Jeez, that was a lucky shot,” Brick muttered.
“We gotta get him to a hospital,” Mercer said urgently. He called to his other men standing outside the door to the closet-sized room. “Make a stretcher, help me get him to the van.”
Brick came to his senses and rushed out, taking charge of the men.
Mercer dug a bandana from his coat pocket, used it to apply pressure. Connor groaned. “It’s gonna be okay bro, it’s…” Mercer started, then realized Connor was pushing something into his hand and looked to see his little brother’s bloody hand pressing the jewels into his palm.
“I got ‘em, bro,” Connor croaked.
Mercer was tempted, so tempted. But the rubies represented Connor’s future as much as his own. Positioning his body so none of the men could see, he took the jewels, carefully buttoning them into Connor’s chest pocket. “You keep them safe for us both,” he whispered.
The blood kept coming, pooling on the floor, and Mercer had no choice but to press harder against the wound. Connor cried out, his face growing pale, appearing ghostly in the NVGs. Mercer wished he could spare a hand and the time to find a freakin’ light switch, but he couldn’t let up for a moment.
“We’re gonna get you help, okay, bro, listen to me,” Mercer whispered. “Hey, look at me! You gonna live, no dying on me! You understand?”
