Page 83 of Broken Mercy
“I don’t know. I’m not supposed to let any non-players through here.” He hesitates, glancing over his shoulder. There’s one final door in the far wall. “Maybe if you wait here?—“
“Don’t worry about it, honestly, he knows we’re coming.” I walk past Jason like this is normal. Brenden stays on my hip as we move into the forest of players.
“Hold on. Why don’t I talk to him first? Tallie, just a second?—“
I don’t slow down. “Sorry, sorry, I don’t want to interrupt. Oh, hey, that guy should definitely raise.” I beam at Jason and tug on Brenden’s arm. “My husband was thinking about playing next week. Wouldn’t that be hilarious?”
“Tallie, I’m not supposed to let you through here.” Jason’s friendly tone is fading fast. Now there are more than a few people staring. I wonder how many know me? Probably most of them, but I’m trying my best not to look too closely. “You have to wait. Tallie, hold on. Tallie, stop!”
Jason lunges for my arm. He’s fast for a big guy. I don’t have time to react, and I think he’s going to get me, right until Brenden’s elbow smashes into Jason’s teeth.
The big man’s face jerks back with a shocked grunt. Blood bubbles from his mouth and Brenden doesn’t stop there. He kicks Jason hard in the knee, knocking him down to the floor, and draws a gun from a hidden holster at his belt. There’s a surprised shout nearby and the tension in the room goes ballistic, but nobody moves as Brenden covers the space, the barrel of the gun sweeping over ducking heads.
“Stay where you are, everyone.” His voice is eerily calm. “This doesn’t have to escalate.”
The back door slams open. “What the fuck is going—“ Sam appears in his usual white shirt and dark jeans, looking more annoyed than anything else, but the second he spots me and Brenden his face brightens. “Oh! Hey guys!”
Nobody moves. Brenden’s pointing a gun in the general direction of the room. Sam’s acting like this is a normal social visit. And poor Jason’s bleeding on the ground.
“Hey, Sam,” I say cautiously. “We came to talk.”
“Great timing!” He gestures for us to follow. “Right through here. Jason, did you try to stop them, you stupid fuck? Jesus Christ, someone pick him up and make sure he’s still got his teeth. Britney, one free drink per player, no fucking more you leeches, and for fuck’s sake Brenden, put that gun away.”
Sam waves us on and storms back into his office. For a beat, nobody stirs, until the bartender Britney starts shaking a drink again. “You heard him,” she calls out. “I’m keeping track.”
Brenden lowers his weapon and follows me as a flood of young men head toward the bar. A few stop to check on him.
“He’s good,” Brenden says, quietly putting the gun back into its holster.
“Did you have to give poor Jason a root canal?”
“He was going to touch my wife.”
“I didn’t realize you were an overprotective idiot.”
“Now you know.”
We head into the office. Sam immediately slams the door behind us. The space is relatively cramped and I’m guessing it used to be a somewhat large janitor’s closet. Now there’s a filing cabinet, a few chairs, a desk, and lots of papers and ledgers thrown around.
Sam whirls on us. “What the fuck was that?!” he hisses, looking pissed. “Are you seriously pulling a gun in the middle of my god damn poker tournament? Do you have any idea how skittish those rich idiots are in there? I bet half them have never even seen a pistol before, much less watched a man get his teeth broken in.”
“They probably liked it,” Brenden says.
Sam rubs his forehead. “And how the fuck did you even find me?” He frowns between us and groans. “Ah shit, it was you two, wasn’t it?”
I point at Brenden. “It was him, actually. I only found out recently.”
Sam slumps behind his desk, pulls a bottle of good whisky from his drawer, and slams three clean glasses down. He pours, smashes his back, and pours again with a sigh. I don’t touch mine. Brenden indulges though, sipping and grunting with appreciation.
“When that safe got cracked I figured it was someone in the Brotherhood. I’ve been going through my days waiting for the fucking sword to descend on my neck, and now I’m finding out it wasyou.” He tilts his glass toward Brenden.
“Arsen sent me.”
“Does he… you know…” Sam looks young all of a sudden.
“We didn’t give him anything,” I say which seems to help my brother relax somewhat. “But he knows what you’ve been up to.”
“I fucking figured. For the past few nights, there have been at least two or three Brotherhood spooks hanging around the house keeping an eye on things. They’re tracking me, you know that? It’s not easy losing them when I come here.”
