All those times my stomach went sour over the course of today have come back to me, and I lean over the toilet in time to barf, retching up the little I’ve eaten. It burns coming up, and I breathe hard, dry heaving a little with my hands braced on either side of the toilet bowl.
It’s all so fucked up.
Every fucking part of it.
I could have died. Even with the vest, one of those Jackal guys could have aimed for my head or something. I watched a man die tonight, just a few feet away from me, shot and killed by Rory with a nearly silent bullet. He went down so easily, dead in a matter of seconds.
On top of that, there’s a man downstairs who was tortured because of me. Because I sold him out to people who wanted nothing more than to hurt him until he told them what they wanted to hear.
And clearly they were good at it. Good enough that he’s down there, hurt too much to move on his own. The parts of it I saw were terrible enough, and who knows what they were doing to him before we got there. Who knows what they would have done if we hadn’t shown up? Or if it had taken longer.
I’m in so fucking deep with all this shit. Too deep to back out, and it’s startling to realize I barely remember who I was before it all started. It’s not a game, and all the consequences of fucking up in this world are terrifyingly real. It’s all so fucking real, and nothing can ever be taken back.
Just thinking about that has me throwing up again, and I end up on my knees, practically hugging the toilet bowl as I try to breathe through it all.
That’s how Rory finds me when he comes into my room.
“Mercy?” he calls, and I can barely answer him. I feel numb all over again, and I blink at him when he steps into the bathroom and looks down at me.
His face goes sympathetic, and he leans down to help me up onto shaky legs.
“Come on,” he says. “It’ll be okay.”
His hands feel soothing on my shaking body, and I let him help me lean against the counter for a second, bracing myself. My mouth tastes foul, so I pull my toothbrush out of the holder and brush my teeth, avoiding looking at myself in the mirror as much as possible. I’m just not ready for what I might see there yet.
Rory doesn’t leave, instead standing against the wall with his arms folded. He’s stripped out of his vest and wearing nothing more than a t-shirt, some jeans, and his socks.
I can’t really wrap my head around how he looks so comfortable after what just happened, but I guess it’s nothing new for the three of them. They’ve been dealing with gang stuff since long before I came along, and while things are more volatile now than they were before, it’s clear they know how to handle it.
I spit a mouthful of toothpaste suds into the sink and glance up finally. “How’s Alex doing?” I ask him, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Better,” Rory replies. “One of our medical guys came to look at him. He’s banged up as hell, and it’s going to be a while before he can use that hand again, but he’ll live. That’s more than we could have hoped for if we hadn’t gone in to get him.”
I nod because he’s right. If we hadn’t gone in, Alex would definitely have ended up dead. Just the thought of that makes me shudder, and I finish up brushing my teeth, rinsing my mouth out with water before replacing my toothbrush and shutting off the sink.
I feel better now that my mouth doesn’t taste as bad, and I turn around so I can face Rory, leaning against the sink as I look at him.
“You know, I thought about what would happen to your family if I succeeded in bringing down the Black Roses,” I say. My voice is quiet, and I’m not really sure why I’m bringing this up again, when it’s already so awkward just to think about it, but I feel like he needs to know. “It was the one thing that almost made me quit so many times. I was so mad at Sloan for what I thought he did, and I wanted him to pay. I wanted all the Black Roses to pay for getting my dad involved in this, but then I thought about Jen and about Piper, and I just…”
My voice breaks, and to my surprise, I realize I’m crying. All the stress of the day, all the stress of the last few weeks is finally hitting me hard enough that I can’t control my emotions. My shoulders shake, and the tears fall down my face to drip onto my shirt, disappearing when they hit the black fabric.
“I hated the thought of Piper losing her dad,” I manage to say through my tears. “That’s… that’s the worst feeling. And I didn’t… I didn’t want…”
It’s hard to keep going, and I bury my face in my hands, trying to get ahold of myself. It’s embarrassing to be weeping like this, but I can’t help it. There’s just so much weighing on me, so much I’ve been holding back, and now that it’s all coming out, I don’t know how to make it stop.
For a second, Rory just stands there watching me, and then he moves, enveloping me in his strong arms. He holds me close, and I let myself cling to him, needing the contact. He’s sturdy and warm, and under the smell of sweat and stress, he smells like Rory, something that has come to bring me comfort in the time I’ve known him.
I never thought that would be the case. That holding on to one of the members of the gang that turned my life upside down would be enough to calm the frantic beat of my heart and make me feel better, but here we are.
Eventually, I manage to stop crying, but I don’t pull away. Neither does Rory.
“I was right, you know,” he murmurs into my hair. “You are trouble.”
His voice is part teasing, part serious, and he definitely is right. I have been nothing but trouble for them since I decided not to be a helpless captive of theirs. But I can tell Rory still cares about me, in spite of everything.
I lift my face to look at him, intending to say something else, but before I can get the words out, Rory is leaning down and kissing me.
It’s not the usual way he kisses me either. Usually, it’s all confidence and desire, him kissing me because he wants to and knows I want it too. Now, it’s a little tentative, like he’s not sure where we stand, and when I kiss him back, it’s with that same energy.
So much has changed between us since the last time we really kissed like this, and it’s like we’re both trying to find our new footing with everything we know now.
But soon enough, that fades. Kissing Rory has always been one of the best feelings in the world, and it’s no different now. Heat builds between us as he pulls me closer, dropping the hug he had me in to let his hands rest at my hips.
I arch up against him, eyes fluttering closed as he caresses my lips with his tongue, urging me to part them and let him inside.
And I do. Of course I do. I trust Rory with everything, even after all that’s happened, and the heat between us keeps growing as he lays claim to my mouth, tangling his tongue with mine.
I moan softly into the kiss, and he makes a low, pleased noise in return, his hands starting to wander. They move from my sides down to my lower back and then down even further to cup and grope at my ass.
His hands are so big he can get my whole ass in two handfuls, and I go up onto my toes a bit, pressing back into his hold.
Taking my cue from him, I touch him right back, my hands sliding up and over his broad shoulders and then down his arms, feeling those muscles. He’s so fucking well built, so sexy just standing there in a t-shirt and jeans, and I can already feel myself getting wet for him.