Page 82 of Burned in Stone
“Three sheets to the wind. Face is all fucked up from his fight with Cash. His buddies don’t look much better.” Bones glances at me. “He’s making a scene. Yelling about how he has a message from Summit and the only one he’ll talk to is you, Merc.”
Stone’s jaw tightens. “Everyone out front. Now. Full show of force.”
We move as one, and the clubhouse erupts, brothers grabbing cuts, checking weapons, prospects falling into formation. Ginger materializes at my side.
“You don’t have to see him,” she says quietly.
“Yes, I do.” I square my shoulders. “He said he has a message from Summit. Plus, I need to look him in the eye one last time and show him he doesn’t scare me anymore.”
Cash takes my hand. “I’m right here, angel.”
“I know.”
We file out into the cool night. The clubhouse security lights turn everything stark and shadowless. Gabriel’s car is parked sideways across the gate entrance, blocking it. He’s leaning against the hood, and even from here I can see how wrecked he looks.
His face is a catastrophe of bruises—both eyes blackened, nose swollen, lip split and crusted with dried blood. His clothes are rumpled, shirt untucked, and he’s swaying like a tree in high wind. His two cop buddies are trying to hold him upright while looking anywhere but at the wall of bikers facing them down.
“There she is!” Gabriel shouts when he spots me. His voice is slurred, raw. “My darling wife. Or should I say ex-wife?” He spits on the ground like the word is poison.
I step forward, Cash a solid presence at my back. “Guess you got the paperwork then.”
He lurches upright, almost falling, then bellows, “Oh I got it! Hand delivered by a lawyer’s assistant with a stick up her ass. You know how humiliating that is, Mercedes? To have your friends and colleagues see you served like some piece of trash?” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. Hope you’ve fucked all of them good and proper. Because a piece of paper changes nothing! You think running with these criminals and spreading your legs for thefirst biker trash who looked at you makes you free? I didn’t sign shit. You don’t get to be free from me.”
Cash tenses beside me, but I squeeze his hand. “I don’t think I’m free, Gabriel. I know I am. The divorce is final whether you signed or not. The judge granted me my freedom from you, and I’m done.”
“You’re not done until I say you’re done!” He lurches forward, and his buddies barely catch him. “You’re my wife, Mercedes. Mine. You don’t get to just—just divorce me and move on like I’m nothing. Like our marriage meant nothing.”
“Our marriage was a prison,” I say, voice steady. “And you were the warden.”
His face contorts with rage. “I gave you everything! A home, security, status?—”
“You gave me an eating disorder and PTSD,” I cut him off. “You controlled every aspect of my life, down to what I could eat and how I wore my hair. You isolated me from friends and family. You made me believe I was worthless.” My voice rises. “That’s not love, Gabriel. That’s abuse.”
“Abuse?” He’s screaming now. “I protected you! I took care of you! And this is how you repay me? By whoring yourself out to some pretty-boy criminal half your age?”
“I’m twenty-six,” Cash says mildly. “She’s thirty-two. That’s a six-year difference. Hardly scandalous.”
“Shut up!” Gabriel tries to lunge at Cash but stumbles. “This is between me and my wife!”
“Ex-wife,” Stone corrects. “And you’re trespassing on private property. State your business or leave.”
Gabriel straightens as much as he can, trying to look official despite being barely able to stand. “Summit wants a sit-down.” Each word comes out over-pronounced like he’s trying to prove he’s not drunk. “To discuss terms moving forward. They’re willing to negotiate, maybe even back off.Ifyou stop interfering with their development plans.”
“And if we don’t?” Stone asks.
“Then they can’t guarantee anyone’s safety.” Gabriel’s eyes slide to me, and there’s something vicious in them. “Buildings burn. People disappear. Accidents happen to those who don’t cooperate.”
“Is that a threat?” Stone’s voice is deadly quiet.
“It’s a fact.” Gabriel pulls himself up straighter. “Summit has friends. Powerful friends. Friends who don’t appreciate being backed into corners by a gang of motorcycle thugs.”
“Motorcycle club,” Ginger corrects sweetly. “We’re very particular about the terminology.”
“I don’t give a shit what you call yourselves!” Gabriel’s control is slipping, his face red with rage and alcohol. “You’re criminals. All of you. And Mercedes—” He focuses on me again. “You think you’re safe here? You think they’ll protect you? They’re using you, just like I said they would. The second you’re not useful anymore, they’ll throw you away. Just like you threw away our marriage.”
“You keep talking about our marriage like it was something sacred,” I say. “But you burned it down yourself, Gabriel. Every cruel word, every rule, every time you made me feel small—you destroyed us long before I left.”
“I made you better!” He’s fully yelling now, specks of spittle flying. “You were nothing when I met you! A nobody teacher with no ambition, no style?—”
