Merciful Lies
Lies can be merciful. It just depends on the why.
Anna
I knew the second I saw him, my life would change forever. When my brother offers me as payment to Nico Fury, the king of the Vipers, how can I refuse? Tattooed, built, and tall, he was the only man I saw when I walked into the room. It was like he occupied all the available space, sitting on his throne of blood, sweat, and lies.
Nerves assailed me, but I owed my brother too much to let anything happen to him. One night. That was all. But it would leave me wrecked. Actions always had consequences. Six months later, my brother was killed by a rival organization, and now they were after me.
There was only one place I could go to keep my unborn baby safe. I just hoped the king would be merciful.
Nico
Perfect things didn’t exist, at least not in my experience. But she was pretty close. I had her in my bed for one night, and I couldn’t shake the memory. No, I wasn’t meant to keep soft things like Anna Keller. My life belonged to my crew, and we were a vicious group. Hell, we weren’t called Vipers for nothing.
But she was different. She made me want, and I loved and hated her for it. Anna was light in a world of constant darkness. She was all warmth and beauty like no other. And I craved her like a drug.
Six months had passed since I took her in return for clearing her brother’s debt to me, but that man attracted trouble like honey did flies. It wasn’t long before I learned Sam Keller had gotten himself killed. Less than an hour later, Anna came back to me, on her knees, asking for sanctuary.
I knew the moment I saw the swell of her stomach she was carrying my baby. Anna thought coming here would protect her, but she was walking right into the Viper’s nest. Before I was finished, my little runaway would be begging me for mercy.
CHAPTER One-Anna
It’s New Year’s Eve. I can’t believe it.
The last night of another long, boring year where I can’t manage to make ends meet and I’m stuck in the same rut as always.
Shit.
I hate feeling this way. The old clock makes a constant ticking noise from where it hangs on the office wall, and I frown at the dingy beige color.
When was the last time we painted?
“Anna, you have payroll? Or are you late again?” Javi asks, walking into my office without knocking.
This guy. Ugh.
I knew it was going to be different after Dad died. But five years have passed and neither of the two crews of bakers working for us treated me with anything even close to respect.
Sammy is supposed to help. He found Javi to run the crews, but with him came a huge bump in their pay and things are worse than ever.
“I told you I got it, Javi. Gimme a second.” I look down, counting out the envelopes for his two seven-man crews.
He’s the leader, so his cut is bigger, then it’s up to him to divvy out cash to his men. He has a second guy who takes care of the other shift.
They are both the newest but have the most clout. The old bakers do as they are told. They were always hard workers and kind.
These guys though, they are not nice. Javi is always asking for more money and he is never satisfied with my efforts to placate him.
Bread is a cash business. Always has been.
That’s probably why Dad got into trouble so often with loan sharks and bookies. My brother Sammy takes after him, and I can’t help but worry.
I’m nine years older than Sammy. He’s twenty-two to my thirty-one, and absolutely no help at all running the family business.
Delilah’s Bakery has been around for sixty years. There’s no Delilah in my family, but that was the name of the old woman my grandfather, the first Samuel Keller, bought it from fifty years ago.
Me and my brother are the third generation of Kellers to run this thing, and honestly, I’m not sure how much longer I can do it.
“Anna,” Javi calls my name again, and I can tell he’s getting annoyed.
“Here,” I snap, handing him a stack of envelopes. “I’ll leave the rest on the desk before I go for the night.”
“No problem, Anna. You do that.”
He makes me uncomfortable, but I ignore it and I finish what I am doing.
I pack up my purse and shrug into my raggedy winter coat. Christmas came and went, and with it all the good feelings associated with the season.
I hate winter. New Jersey isn’t terribly cold yet. But it’s gray. And it’s wet.
And I wish it was summer.
I wave goodbye to the rest of the bakers as I walk through the storefront and switch off lights, locking the door behind me.
The apartment I rent is a few blocks away, and I hustle through the damp streets, bracing myself for the icy breeze and the rush of people.
“Oops, excuse me. Happy New Year!”
A beautiful half-dressed woman flashes me a brilliant smile as she races to catch the Uber that’s double parked
I smile back and shake my head. It’s not a big deal that she almost knocked me down.
Actually, it might have been the most exciting thing to happen to me in weeks.
Well, there was that coffee Eric brought me the other day, but that hardly counted.
Eric is a Firefighter who came in to buy French bread for the house every Tuesday.
I’d known him for years and read nothing into it. Eric is just a friendly guy.
I stand there a moment longer than is appropriate, just watching the young woman as she talks animatedly into her phone.
The car pulls away and I feel guilty for wishing we could trade places.
It’s New Year’s Eve and I have no plans, nowhere to go, and no one to dress up for.
Boring.
My life is so boring.
The sound of Pancake meowing greets me as I push the door open. The bag of dough I took from the bakery bangs against it, and I make cooing noises to my kitty.
Pizza sounds like fun, and I like homemade best. That way I can control the amount of sauce and cheese.
I know it’s weird, but I really don’t like a lot of greasy cheese on my pizza. In fact, sometimes I just use a little grated pecorino romano and skip the mozz altogether.
“Come here, Pancake. I got something for you.”
I pull the package of fresh salmon I picked up for him earlier and grin when he pounces on the countertop
He’s the prettiest kitty I ever saw. All golden, just like a pancake, or so Sammy always said.
Sadness slithers into my heart like a serpent ready to strike, and I close my eyes for a moment against the feeling.
I don’t want to be sad. New Year’s Eve is all about new beginnings, and I truly hope wherever he is, my brother is making a fresh start.
But those hopes die the second I hear pounding on my front door.
Pancake laps at his salmon as I cross the room and pull the door open, undoing my three security locks first.
“Sammy!” I shout, taking in his bloody form.
There’s a big, brooding man behind him, heavily muscled and covered in tattoos.
“Anna,” my brother rasps, and I walk him to the couch.
“What is going on?”
“Your brother owes some money to my boss. He says you can make good,” the behemoth rumbles.
“What? Sammy?” I sputter, trying to get my brother to look at me.
“Did you beat him?” I ask.
“He knows better than to take money from the Vipers,” the man says with a cruel twist of his lips.
Oh shit.
The Vipers?
I want to slap my brother across the face for messing around with that group of criminals.
“I’m sorry, Anna. I need h-help. P-please,” he begs, dark brown eyes like my father’s peer up at me through swollen, broken skin.
My eyes are brown too, but they’re lighter. More whiskey than chocolate.
“H-how much does he owe?” I ask the stranger, knowing I will do whatever I can to help.
“Fifty-five,” he says.
I blink. Fifty-five dollars? That can’t be right. Then it hits me.
Oh my God!
“You owe the Vipers fifty-five thousand dollars!” I shout.
It’s not a question. My brother hangs his head, snot and tears rolling down his face as he sobs like the big baby he is.
“Oh, Sammy, why?”
“I’m sorry, Anna. I’m sorry! But you have to help me,” he begs, grabbing my shirt.
I gently remove his hands and turn to face the giant. His expression is stony. His mood is unreadable.
“I have seven thousand dollars in my savings account and another three in my checking, I can bring your boss both the day after tomorrow,” I tell him, knowing it’s a holiday and they won’t be open.
“Not good enough, sweetheart. Besides, your baby bro didn’t promise the king your money.”
“He didn’t?”
“No. He promised him you.”