Chapter Nineteen

 

Mercy

 

“Mercy, can I see you in my trailer for a minute?” Ryan, the producer, asks after we finish shooting my last elimination before the finale. Only three men remain, Roman, Vincent, and Zeke.

“Sure,” I reply before I quickly catch up to him before he gets to the steps of his trailer.

“Need me in there?” Abe asks when he suddenly steps in front of me before I climb the stairs.

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you,” I say with a smile and reassuring pat on his arm.

And while I’m trying to play it cool on the outside, I’m so freaking excited that tomorrow morning we’re all headed to the airport to fly to Vegas for Sasha and Chase’s wedding. Not just because I’m her maid of honor, but because I’ll get to travel with Abe. Thankfully, Sasha could wait a few days for the show’s filming break so that I could join them.

Abe’s dark eyes narrow in disapproval of me being alone with another man, but Ryan is great and I’m pretty sure he’s gay, so he doesn’t have to worry about me. Randy, his assistant, is usually by his side, just like now. 

“Come on in and have a seat,” Ryan says when I pull the door shut behind me.

He sits down on one side of the table, so I sit on the cushion opposite him while Randy hovers near the door, playing on his phone, ready to jump as soon as Ryan asks him to go fetch something.

“I wanted to talk to you about a possible extension on your contract,” Ryan starts.

“Really?” I ask in surprise since we’re taking a week break for me to make my decision, and then the show is over, other than the reunion episode that happens after the show airs.

“Yes,” he replies with a smug grin. “Randy, where’s that contract?” he asks his assistant, who quickly goes over and starts digging through a stack of documents on a side table. Apparently finding the right ones, he brings them over to Ryan.

“Thanks,” he says to his assistant before he flops the papers down in front of me. “I’ve spoken to the three finalists, and each of them has also agreed to the extension in the event that you pick them in the finale.”

“What would be the extension?” I ask, thumbing through the wordy documents that I’m too tired to read right now.

“So, I’m not saying that we would have to film the wedding, but we would want to film several months of you two living together, maybe starting to make some of the wedding plans. What do you say? I can offer you double the money from the show’s original contract.”

“Wow,” I mutter since that is a lot of money. “But I would have to actually live with the man I choose?”

“Yes,” he answers. “When the cameras are off, you could have separate bedrooms for all I care. While they’re rolling, though, you would have to appear a happy couple in love, which means you wouldn’t be able to date anyone for another six months or so.”

“Six months?” I repeat. Sure, to most people that’s not very long to have to be roommates. If that were all it was to it, I would sign the papers right now. But it’s not. I would have to stop seeing Abe for good, or at least for six months. I could be wrong, but I don’t think the big guy would wait around for me while I played house with another man for half a year. That is if he even wants to keep seeing me after the psycho stalker is caught. At least he stopped showing up at my house after the second night. Still, Abe and I have been driving back to sleep in his apartment instead of taking any chances. Sure, it’s a little small, but it’s cozy and I feel safe under the MC’s protection.

“Your rent, utilities and all other living expenses would be covered,” Ryan adds. “It’s all in here,” he says, tapping his finger on the top of the documents.

“This is a great offer,” I tell him. “Could I have some time to talk to my agent and think about it over the break?”

“Absolutely,” he agrees. “I will need an answer by the time we shoot the finale so that I can start making arrangements.”

“Good, that should give me plenty of time,” I say in relief. Plenty of time to figure out what Abe wants, I think to myself.

“Great,” Ryan agrees. When he moves to stand up, I do the same, grabbing the papers up from the table to study later. “Any big plans for the week off?” he asks as we start for the trailer door.

“Yes, actually. My best friend is getting married in Vegas,” I reply with a smile.

“That sounds like a good time,” he says, then opens the door for me to leave.

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” I agree. As soon as I start down the steps, I see Abe waiting for me in the exact same place I left him. He’s like a human statue. Sometimes I’m not sure how he stays so still and patient.

“See ya, Ryan,” I say when I start to head back across the yard to cut through the production set.

“Have fun in Vegas. Just not too much!” Ryan calls out with a grin. “Cameras are everywhere!”

“What was that about?” Abe asks, eyeing the papers in my hand.

Rather than explain it before I even make a decision, I say, “Just contract stuff. No biggie.”

Honestly, how things go with Abe on our trip will probably help me decide whether or not I agree to the extension. If he tells me that he wants more, then I would turn it down. I’m just not sure if he’s the type of guy to ever want more. Sure, Sasha’s man is in the MC and is settling down, but the two of them have been in love since they were teenagers. I really doubt that any of the other bikers are seeing anyone seriously.

 

…

 

Abe

 

I get the feeling that whatever paperwork Mercy came out of the producer’s trailer with is more important than she’s letting on. I’m not sure why she dodged the question when I asked her about it, or why I go and snoop through her things when we get back to my apartment and she’s in the shower, but I need to know what they say.

I gently pull the papers from inside her purse that’s sitting on my desk and unfold them. Again, my lack of education catches up with me. It’s a bunch of legal terms I don’t really get, but going through the pages, it looks like they want Mercy to live with the man she picks at the finale for six fucking months.

Is she actually considering signing this horse shit and moving in with one of the assholes that have been fighting over her like little kids? I knew she had to pick someone at the end of the show, but I thought it would end there and then she and I could really be together. Not just in my bed, but out in the rest of the world.

If she’s going to live with one of them, then there’s no fucking way I’m going to stick around and watch that bullshit. It makes me think that I was right, and Mercy’s only sleeping with me to take a walk on the wild side before she picks Mr. Right and settles down with him to start a family. There’s even shit about their engagement and wedding in the damn paperwork and an insane amount of money for an additional extension if Mercy gets knocked up. The thought of her going off the birth control shot to fuck some douche bag from a stupid television show to have a kid makes my pulse start to pound throughout my entire body.

When I hear the shower cut off, I shove the papers back into her purse and try to calm my rage. It’s barely in control when the bathroom door opens and Mercy steps out wearing nothing but a towel around her gorgeous body.

“As soon as we catch your fucking stalker, I’m done with you,” I blurt out. “And I’m done sleeping with you. I can’t do this anymore!”

“Abe, what are you talking about?” Mercy asks, coming over to lay a hand on my arm. “Did something happen while I was in the shower? What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s wrong!” I yell, jerking away from her and sitting down on the edge of my bed. “I can’t fucking breathe when I see those fancy dressed limp-dick bastards drooling over you on that stupid show. I thought it would be over soon, but to find out that you’re signing on for an extension, that you’re going to shack up with one of them…”

“What?” Mercy interrupts me, looking over at her purse to see the papers I hastily stuffed in there peeking out. “Abe, that contract is just a proposal they want me to consider. Nothing is set in stone.”

“Then why didn’t you fucking tell me about it?” I yell, standing back up.

Mercy doesn’t flinch or back down at all. “Because of this!” she yells back at me. “Because I don’t know what this is, what we’re doing. It’s one thing to be bossy in the bedroom, but now you’re going through my things? Why would you do that? I’ve had enough violations of privacy the last few weeks without you digging through my things without bothering to try and have an adult conversation about what’s going on between us. Just because we’re sleeping together doesn’t give you the right!” She gets closer to me as her voice rises, struggling to keep her towel on as she stands toe-to-toe with me.

“And what are we doing, Mercy? You’ve made it pretty clear that I’m just the fuck-boy bodyguard that you’re using for a good time, keeping me on the back-burner until your stalker is locked up and you find Mr. Fucking Right on your goddamned show!” I roar. “I know I’m not good enough for you, but I’m not going to stand around and be some pussy-whipped heartbroken runner up. I’m done with this. Go find your Prince fucking Charming and get the hell out of my life!”

“What are you talking about? You are good enough…” Mercy starts, before I turn my back on her and storm over to the door.

“I’m calling Sasha to come pick you up. Go stay with her until our flight to Vegas. You’ll be fine over there. You two can compare notes on your pussy-ass husband candidates,” I tell her, before I walk out and slam the door.

Once I’m outside, I have to lean on the wall in the hallway, waiting for the agony in my chest to ease. It feels like I’m having a fucking heart attack; it’s too tight inside me to breathe. I have no idea what this feeling is, but I’m starting to think that bullet did more than just leave a bruise on me. It feels like my heart is…broken. I shake off that ridiculous thought and stomp upstairs and out the bar, flipping open my phone to call Sasha.