Fighting Back (Mercy's Angels) by Kirsty Dallas Read Free Book Online Page B

on. I dried and pulled on the clean jeans and shirt. I checked on Rebecca one last time before I took to the couch. I was sleeping like the dead before my head hit the pillow.
    * * *
    A blood curdling scream had me rolling off the couch and hitting the floor in a painful heap. I had been in a deep, dreamless sleep and was now wide awake. I scrambled from the floor and, for a split second, had forgotten where I was, but seeing Mercy rush down the stairs, her face full of angst as she moved with determination, reminded me quickly. I got to Rebecca’s doorway at the same time Mercy did and we both stopped for a second to see Rebecca thrashing around in the bed, trapped in a violent nightmare. Mercy ran to her side and tried to hold her down and wake her, but Rebecca was fighting hard. I slipped into the room and helped Mercy gently hold her arms down.
    “Rebecca, your safe, wake up,” Mercy whispered gently. She was still fighting and screaming and it was breaking my heart.
    “Betty Boop, open your eyes!” I demanded with a little more force. Thankfully her pretty blue eyes flew open. For a heartbeat I expected her to come at me with a feisty little right hook, instead she surprised me by launching herself right past Mercy and into my arms. Her entire body shivered and I held her close, trying to infuse some warmth into her. I peered at Mercy over Rebecca’s shaking shoulders. Mercy knew what Rebecca was going through; Mercy’s ex-husband had spent years beating the ever loving shit out of her. That was before my time, but I’ve witnessed the nightmares that still plagued her.
    Mercy reached out and placed a sturdy hand over mine that was holding Rebecca’s head against my chest. “I’ll go make some coffee,” she whispered. It was still dark out, but I could see the faint distant glow from the rising sun through the window signaling the rapid approach of another day. We had slept right through the day and most of the night. To be honest, Rebecca had done better than I thought she would. She had to have slept no less than fourteen hours straight. When I felt her body begin to relax, I pulled back a little to check her over. One eye was still swollen shut and the other was red from crying. She tried to pull away and I knew she was embarrassed about the way she looked. I didn’t want her to feel that way around me so I gently leaned in and I pressed my lips to her forehead.
    “They’re just bruises, Betty Boop, the swelling will go down in a day or two. You are just as beautiful as ever, there is no need to hide.” She didn’t respond for the longest time and I thought maybe she drifted back to sleep until she eventually pulled away from my arms. My fingers twitched with the need to fold her into my chest again.
    “I’ve never been inside Mercy’s house,” Rebecca murmured, her voice still husky and strained.
    “It’s warm and cozy. You’ll like it here, hell, I love it here.” She looked around the dimly lit room. “How are you feeling?” I chanced asking her the one question I was pretty sure I knew the answer to.
    “Sore.” She shrugged, raising her hand lightly to cup her bruised cheek.
    “How about I run you a bath? It might help for you to soak a while.” Her nod was despondent and it pained me to see her this way. Mercy brought in a hot cup of coffee which I left beside the tub as it filled. Rebecca quietly closed the door to the bathroom, separating me from her. Not being able to be with her, to tend to her, pissed me off. I don’t know why I felt such entitlement where Rebecca was concerned; it’s not like we were together or anything. I went to the kitchen and sat at the table.
    “I fucking hate this,” I murmured, watching the gentle fall of snow in the backyard. The heaviest falls of winter had passed, but a soft coat of snow and ice still greeted us most mornings. In another month, it would be gone. Mercy had already started cooking a feast: bacon, sausage, eggs, biscuits and gravy,