Mercenary flies by the turnoff for the Taco Shack. I think nothing of it, writing it off as him joy riding in my Chevelle. Down the road a ways, he pulls my baby into The Pit and circles around the building to the back by the loading bay.
“What’s going on?” I ask, shooting my gaze around. “Why are there cars here? I thought you told Ace to make sure everyone knew not to come in.” The last thing we need are people in the building when they could get hurt, or worse, killed.
“They’re here working,” he replies absently, busily texting someone with one hand.
“You fixed the front? There wasn’t any plywood or anything when we passed it. Was that a gate I saw at the entry?”
What have they been doing since I’ve been away? I thought they were just here to make sure no one tried to break in or blow up the place more than it already had been. I didn’t know they were fixing anything. That’s surprisingly thoughtful on the bikers’ part.
He nods. “Yeah, we had to repair it, so no one would try breaking in.”
Well, that makes sense. I’m still pleased to see it. It was hard enough leaving this place to begin with. I’m grateful for The Oath Keepers providing me with their protection, but The Pit is not only my business. It’s my home as well.
“These people need to go home. The Pit won’t make any money tonight to pay them to be here.” And I won’t be able to afford to pay for this place if I have employees around and no income coming in.
He shrugs. “We can talk about it inside.”
I reach for the door handle, but when his palm lands on my other arm, I pause. Flicking my gaze back to him, he shakes his head.
“Wait.” He tilts his chin toward the bay, and it rolls open.
I sit back as the bay door raises and Mercenary pulls in through the race and delivery entry. “At least no one’s bothered with the back doors. I have to find something in this mess to be positive about.”
“Relax, Chevy. We’ve had plenty of people here night and day to keep the Iron Fists away.”
“It didn’t stop them from setting up a car bomb the last time though,” I mutter. My stomach squeezes at the not so distant memory. I’ve had a few random dreams about it all, and with each one, I’ve awakened covered in sweat. Thankfully Mercenary has been out like a light and hasn’t witnessed me being a scared fruitcake in the middle of the night.
“They did that shit when no one was paying attention. Your employees know what to look out for.”
“Oh yeah?”
He clears his throat and nods. “Odin filled them all in. Each one has my number to text if something’s suspicious.”
“They should be messaging me,” I grumble as we drive past Sinner.
I wave, watching his dark gaze sparkle with amusement. He’s been around a few times this week when I’ve argued with Mercenary over something random. The brothers find it highly entertaining to see me give cupcake shit as well as he dishes back to me. He’ll learn eventually, though, that I’m not some meek woman. I’ll stand up to him again and again until it sinks in. No man will ever push me around unless I ask him to.
The main door off the hallway is spread wide open, so we can drive right through. Usually, I keep it locked unless cars are loading and unloading to race. I don’t like anyone snooping around the entry hall since the stairway off it leads to my apartment and office. You can never be too careful when it comes to creepers—especially now, I’m learning.
As soon as we get inside The Pit, Mercenary takes off, hauling ass around the track. Normally I’d be all for it, but the other club set off bombs and blew the track up along with various seating areas with a second bomb. His safety and mine, has me shouting to warn him, “What are you doing? We’ll wreck!”
He shoots a confident smile at me and twists the volume to the radio up. He completely ignores me while we sail around the room in my favorite muscle car. This is the first time I’ve ridden with him driving a vehicle that’s not a motorcycle; it reminds me a lot of myself. He’s relaxed and appears to be completely in control. I swear if he wrecks my car, he’ll never see that motorcycle of his again. I’ll have it in a chop shop before he can blink and say Chevy.
The destroyed area comes into view and my stomach twists with nerves—my chest tightening until it feels like I can barely squeeze out a breath. If he doesn’t slow down, we’re going to crash and most likely roll. “Stop being reckless!” I yell over the stereo, nearly panicking as I scowl at him like he’s nuts.
Swallowing roughly, it takes me a moment to realize we’ve actually passed the area completely. I try to spin around and get a decent look, to make sure I’m not losing my mind, but he’s going way too fast, and we’ve sped right by it all while I was distracted trying to warn him.
With a deep breath, I sit back and attempt to coax my muscles into relaxing once again. Mercenary acts like this is just another day in the park, so maybe they laid concrete down or something. Watching everything as we speed over the track, he finally begins to slow down and eventually comes to a stop.
I nearly jump from the car before he shifts into park. Curious, I spin in a circle, searching for the damage caused by the rival bikers. It’s completely gone. The place even appears better than it had when I initially bought it. The only way to tell something happened in this area is the lighter gray from the renewed concrete and the darker shade of black on the freshly paved road. It even smells of chemical cleaners and asphalt, another clue pointing toward the work that’s been completed recently.
“No way,” I comment to myself as I stand there staring, taking it in. A car door closes behind me, and Mercenary comes to stand beside me. On a whisper, I ask, “You did this?” My eyes flick to his.
With a small smile, he nods. “With help from everyone.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I wanted to surprise you,” he admits, and I swallow thickly at the gesture.