Heartless Mercy (The Sinful Alliance #1)

We Must Be Killers by Mikky Ekko

What a whirlwind of a night. It started as something fun for Sonny and I to enjoy a night out, since we both had the night off from work. Everything that transpired plays on repeat in my head. From Frank cheating on Sonny’s mom, him killing a worker from the club, Sonny killing his father, and the vibe we felt from the core four, it was just all a blur.

Waking up at 7:00 a.m., we redressed in our original clothes and spotted a guard outside our room, waiting to take us to Sonny’s 2024 blacked-out BMW M4. Sonny and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He dropped me off at our apartment and raced to his mother’s house before she woke up. I wanted to be there for them, but I had a shift at noon and needed as much rest as possible before I had to leave again. He kissed me goodbye and promised to update me on anything he needed.

I snooze my alarm, grunt with exhaustion, and throw my covers off as I slide off my bed. Grabbing my glasses off my side table, I put them on and do my morning stretches. Opening my curtains, I see the city below me and all the twinkling lights shine brightly. The beautiful sun shines brightly in the sky. I grab my yoga mat and place it beside the expansive window facing the view. Working through my stretches, I take a few moments in child’s pose to collect my thoughts. My alarm is right on cue, ringing once again to let me know it’s time to get dressed, get ready to go, and make my lunch before work. I’m only going for a few hours since I need to work the graveyard the next day.

With my fitted power suit, killer heels, and hair tied up in a ponytail, I look in the refrigerator, scanning the shelves for something to make. I grab some cold brew and leftover chicken and veggies I made before Sonny and I went out last night. Packing everything in my go bag, I make room for a protein bar, an extra set of clothes, and my insulated water bottle. Setting my bag by the door, I walk towards Sonny’s office and see the light on. I lightly knock on the door and he whispers, “Come in.”

“Hi, I just wanted to tell you I’m off to my shift. How was everything with your mom?” I hesitantly ask.

“It’s almost 11:00 a.m. already? Um, everything was as I expected. Mom was very quiet at first. I’m sure she was reeling from all the details, but ultimately, she finally admitted that she was free. That she only stayed for me because she knew that he would target me if she divorced me. We had a very long talk, and I’m honestly exhausted, but work called to let me know we have a new case. Something about drug overdoses skyrocketing. They have an informant who was working with them, but he vanished. I don’t even know anymore. My heart doesn’t feel married to this job anymore, Low. Especially after everything last night. I just don’t know. I think I might resign. The assistant D.A. can take over. Anyway, my term was already ending in two months.” I let Sonny vent everything he’s feeling, because I know he has no one to talk about this besides me.

“Wow, S. That’s a lot. I really admire your mother’s strength. She’s a tough woman and I hope to be just as resilient as she is one day. As for the other stuff, just sit on it, S. Tell your office you’re taking personal time because of your father’s ‘sudden’ death and take the time to think everything over. You need to take some time off. I want to talk more about this, but I have to go. I’ll see you after work and we can talk more. I love you. Always. Forever.”

“I love you, too. Until the end of time. By the way, you look beautiful.” He slightly smirks. I blow him a kiss and walk out of the room, closing the door behind me. I grab my bag and keys to my 1967 Ford Mustang and go to our private elevator.

“ Buenas tardes , Mr. Martinez,” I say, waving to the parking attendant. Mr. Martinez has been here forever and he’s the sweetest man. He’s old enough to be my dad but, of course, much more handsome with his salt and pepper hair, looking like the silver fox he is.

“When are you going to go out with me, Miss Willow?” he asks. I laugh and shake my head. I swear, this man is married and still flirts like a single man. That’s both the Texas and Mexican charm showing.

“I don’t think Mrs. Martinez will like that, and you know you’d do everything to please her.”

“Oh, of course. She’s the love of my life. That woman puts up with me and I’ll never let her go,” he says, moving his right hand in the form of a cross on his body and kissing his fingertips as a sign of hope that God doesn’t let that happen.

“ Te veré más tarde. Tengo que ir a trabajar. ” I wave, head to my reserved spot, and feast my eyes on my red beauty. Using my keys, I open the door, set my bag on the passenger seat, and insert the keys in the ignition. My baby purrs to life, and as I push on the gas, that V8 engine roars, sounding so glorious. Buckling in, I put the car in reverse and peel out on my way to Las Palmas Medical Center, the most prestigious hospital in El Paso.

The traffic is light and I make it to work with thirty minutes to spare. Changing into my scrubs, I grab my badge and scan entry to the emergency room. Let’s hope I have a great day on shift today.

“What do we got?” I yell out as the paramedics bring a bloody man on a stretcher through the doors.

“James McCall, forty-eight years old, fell out of a four-story window. He has a skull fracture, broken femur, and blunt force trauma to the body. He’s been in and out of consciousness, has consistent hypotension after two liters of saline, and his pulse is at 130.”

“One, two, three,” the head nurse, Lindsey, says. We transfer him from the gurney to the new bed and the paramedics clear out of the room. Lindsey is a real pain in the ass, but she runs this ER efficiently, so I don’t ever complain when she’s in a mood.

“Alright, let’s hang two units of blood on the infuser. I need a trauma panel and X-ray. Get me the ultrasound and somebody page Dr. Nimz,” I order. Dr. Oliver Nimz is a hotshot neurosurgeon from Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago who transferred over about a year ago. At first, I didn’t love his cocky attitude, but he most definitely backed it up when he saved a little girl with an inoperable tumor a couple of months ago. He’s been trying to ask me out on a date for the past six months, but I don’t shit where I eat. That doesn’t stop his semi-persistent asking, and if he continues, I will have to put him in his place.

“Sir, can you tell me your name?” Dr. Reid Johnson, my friend and the only other doctor I love down here, asks as he checks the man’s pupils. He’s the sweetest, always ensuring that I have what I need, whether it’s a helping hand or an extra energy drink to keep me awake during our overnight shifts.

“Please… Help… Cat… Cartel,” Mr. McCall mumbles. Cutting the patient’s shirt to determine his wounds, I grab the ultrasound wand and gel, squirting a fair amount on the patient’s belly.

“Right upper quadrant is clear. Moving to the right lower quadrant and it is… clear. The left lower quadrant is clear. The left upper quadrant has free fluid. Looks like he has a ruptured spleen. We need a CT scan ASAP!” I demand, wiping the gel from the patient’s stomach.

“Limited response. Pupils are. Oh, fuck, one’s blown. Let’s get him up to surgery immediately. Move, move, move!” Johnson barks. We quickly lift the rails to the gurney and move him towards the elevator.

“Page Dr. Nimz again!” I yell toward my friend, Spencer, the best ER nurse in El Paso. Reid and I press the floor button for surgery and immediately close the doors.

“Cartel. Plea—” Mr. McCall tries to say when he starts having a seizure. Johnson and I grab him, turn on his side, and keep him in place so he doesn’t hurt himself.

The doors open and Dr. Nimz and his intern, Dr. Jane Remington—who looks like a mini Dr. Nimz—tread forward, grasping the front of the gurney as the patient stops convulsing.

“What happened?” Dr. Nimz asked. “He just started seizing in the elevator. He has a ruptured spleen, open skull fracture, blunt force trauma body, and a broken femur. He keeps trying to talk, but he honestly doesn’t make sense. Update us when you’re done. Please,” I plead, looking towards Nimz. He nods and I dispose of my gloves in the nearest room.

Johnson and I make our way back down and press the button on the elevator panel to the ER floor. I take a moment to close my eyes, take a breath in and out, center myself, and bring my heart rate to normal.

“Are you okay, Hayden? I know that was a lot, but what’s going on?” Johnson asks. He turns to face me and places his hand on my shoulder for comfort.

“I don’t know. I think him falling off a four-story building and being beaten like that is a little crazy to see. And did you hear what he was trying to say?”

“I think he was saying ‘cat cartel,’ but I mean, he did have head trauma. It could’ve been something else?”

Shaking my head, I grab his hand and squeeze it, indicating I’m okay, and he releases his hold on me. “I promise I’m okay. It just messed with me a bit. Let’s go back to work.”

The elevator doors open and I see my dad talking to Spencer. Quickly, I walk towards them, interrupting their conversation, and my friend excuses herself as she goes back to work.

“What happened, Dad? Why are you here?” I question.

“Everything is okay, sweetheart. I’m here because the man who fell from the four-story building was involved with the Mexican cartel. I need you to listen to me very closely. Is he going to live?”

The Mexican cartel? Oh, fuck. So that means Mr. McCall was trying to say Catalina’s name. He was trying to give the name of his killer. This is a lot to process, for sure.

“I don’t know. He’s in surgery with one of the top neurosurgeons in the country, so he has a chance. Why?”

“It’s better if he doesn’t. They’ll come here to finish him off and I don’t need you caught in the middle, sweetheart,” my dad insists.

What is he trying to say? Does he want this poor man to die?

“What are you saying? You want me to do something about it? You know I can’t do that. I took an oath!” I whisper-yell.

“They told me, Willow. They told me they know you, and that if you want to stay alive, you have to do this.” Stunned, I open and close my mouth a million times, trying to muster up the will to say something. But I can’t. Instead, I stay quiet. I don’t think Dario or Catalina would do anything to me, but I don’t know them well enough to make that assumption. Maybe I have to do what they say. If my father is scared and telling me to do it, perhaps I should listen.

“What do you get out of it? What are you into this time? Do you work for them?” My father inches closer to hug me but I step back creating more distance between us.

“It’s complicated, sweetheart. I got involved with them a long time ago and I can’t get out. They are horrible people. Please, do this and don’t go near them again.” He says, reaching his hand towards mine. Nash and I have always suspected he was involved with something shady especially when Nash was kidnapped when he was younger. Fuck, I don’t know what to do. If I do this I’m going against my oath. I’ll just wait and see how the patient is doing. I raise a hand between us. He steps back and doesn’t approach further.

“Nothing has changed between us, Dad. If you are still not accepting of Nash’s or my sexual orientation, then we have nothing to say. You need to apologize to him and make things right, and if you haven’t done that, then we are done. Goodbye and goodnight. I have to get back to work, ” I state.

I don’t give him a chance to respond as I make my way to the nurse’s station, looking for my next patient.

It’s been three hours and Dr. Nimz has finally come to find me. I’ve been checking for status updates through our hospital portal, but I haven’t had the chance to check it thoroughly due to the number of patients who kept the ER floor busy.

“Hey, Hayden. I just wanted to let you know that the man made it out of surgery and he’s up in the ICU right now. It’s honestly touch and go, so the next few hours are crucial. He coded twice on the table—I don’t see him ever waking up. But who knows? Anyway, I just wanted to update you,” he says.

“Thank you, Nimz. I appreciate it. I’ll go check on him right now. I don’t know, but something about him struck me. I just need to see him for myself,” I explain. He nods and exits the main entrance to get some air.

Scanning my badge, I exit the side entrance and use the stairs this time. Two levels of stairs are just what I need to clear my head. Breathing in and out, I ascend the stairs and mentally prepare myself for what I’m about to do.

There’s no way I’ll be able to kill this man. I take my oath very seriously. I’m not a killer.

No, I’m just covering for one.

Swiping my badge to enter the ICU, I pump some hand sanitizer and grab a mask near the container. I look at my tablet and see Mr. McCall is in room 310. His room is off to a corner of the wing, where I don’t see anyone else around.

He’s hooked up to so many machines I don’t even have to lift a finger. There’s no way this man will live. I feel someone behind me and turn to see none other than the Director of Emergency Medicine, my boss , Dr. Mila Delgado.

Fuck.

“I heard you were taking this hard. Are you doing okay, Hayden?” she inquires, giving me no indication that she suspects I was moments away from killing this man.

“I-I’m good. I promise. Well, I mean. I don’t know,” I stammer.

Nodding, she says, “I figured as much. I heard about your friend’s father’s death, and now this. I don’t think you should be here, Dr. Hayden. I can see your mind is elsewhere. I need you to be sharp when assessing patients.”

“Dr. Delgado. Ma’am. That’s not necessary. I promise I’ll be ok—”

“It’s not up for negotiation, Dr. Hayden. We can’t afford for you to cost a life because you were too proud to take a break. I’m putting you on a mandatory, two-week, paid sick leave. You can cut this shift right now and I’ll see you in two weeks. Go.”

I begin to say something, but just nod instead, knowing not to argue with the boss. Who knows, maybe a break would be good for me?

I quickly undress from my scrubs and shoes, redressing into my suit and heels, letting my hair down from my bun. Exiting through the main entrance to the ER, I make a mental note to text my work friends that I’ll see them in two weeks. Making my way past some nurses taking a smoke break outside, I reach into my purse for my keys when I bump into what feels like a brick wall.

Looking up, I see one of Dario’s bodyguards. I think his name is Alejandro, or at least that’s what I heard Catalina call him.

“Mr. Ramos needs a moment of your time, Miss Hayden,” he says. His hand hovers over my lower back and escorts me to Dario’s black Escalade.

The window of the backseat lowers and I spot Dario and Catalina with smiling faces. I ease the tension in my shoulders, not expecting they’d kill me if they were smiling. Right?

“Let us take you home. We have lots to talk about,” Dario orders.

“But I have my car he—”

“No worries. Alejandro will take it home.” I nod, dig for my keys again, and toss them to Alejandro.

Dario opens the door and slides out, letting me take the middle seat. Climbing in, I take my seat and notice another guard in the driver’s seat—a beautiful woman in a sexy black and white suit—hot and strong.

Getting comfortable in my seat, Dario grabs my bag and lightly places it on the floor. Catalina slides closer on my left while Dario crowds me on my right.

“We have a proposition for you and Sonny. How about y’all join us for the weekend? Does a trip to visit Isabella and Niccolo in Shreveport sound good?”

Shocked by the news, I look at them with my mouth agape. I just got put on a two-week mandatory leave of absence and Sonny is overthinking his life’s purpose. I don’t know; maybe this is a sign to say fuck it and go on this wonderful trip.

“Before I answer that, I have a question. My dad came earlier and said that he was told by y’all to kill a patient that was brought in a couple of hours ago. Is that true? Did you just expect me to kill him?” I say, tilting my head to the side.

“Absolutely not. I know you’re not stupid. I can see that you’ve had a feeling your dad does shady stuff. Well, he handles things for us. He has been doing it since my papa was in charge. We told him to check on the traitor’s status. We never ordered him to tell you to kill him.” Dario states, and it solidifies what I’ve known about my father all along. He’s a fucking liar.

I trust Dario, Catalina, Niccolo, and Isabella more than I trust my father. So, what’s the harm in joining them for the weekend?

What’s the worst that can happen?