Page 55 of Ghost (Iron Thunder MC 4)
She smiled, then Mercy reached her hands out toward me and I held them in my lap. She looked excited and nervous at the same time.
“I would love to meet your family too, Ghost, but you said you grew up in foster homes. Are you close to anybody at all from your past?” she asked.
I grinned and shook my head.
“You’ve met my family already. My brothers at the MC are the only real family I have.”
She smiled like she understood. I was glad she did because it was one of the most important factors of my life. Any woman who was going to share my life with me would have to understand the importance of what I did and how the MC worked. It seemed Mercy had made up her mind on it already.
She’d chosen me.
We stepped out of the car and I held her hand as we walked up to the door. She threw me nervous sideways glances and I smiled at her every time. If I was being completely honest, I was kinda nervous too, unsure of what to say or how to behave. I had never been around normal family members before.
Mercy had a key to the apartment and let herself in. I could hear the television in the living room. She led me toward it.
The apartment was small but cozy, maybe the kind of place a family would have spent their whole lives in. Mercy’s grandmother was sitting in a big armchair with a blanket on her knees. She hadn’t heard us coming in, and I didn’t think I had met anybody so frail, like her bones would crack if I touched her.
“Grandma, hi, it’s me,” Mercy called out. She hadn’t let go of my hand.
The old lady turned in her chair, a little startled, and then her watery eyes fell on Mercy, then on me. Then she looked at how we were holding hands. At first I thought she was going to cry out. Maybe she was shocked. But then a soft smile broke out on her face. She was pleased.
“Hello, dear. Who have you brought home to me?” she said and the tension immediately seemed to cease in the room.
“It’s Ghost; you remember me talking about him, don’t you?” Mercy said and she led me to the couch.
“Come over here where I can see you properly,” her grandmother said and I sat down on the side of the couch closest to her.
Mercy remained standing, watching us.
Her grandmother took my hand in hers. I was afraid to touch her, afraid to break her. But she seemed to have a solid grip and looked me over with her gray eyes. Even though she may have had weak eyesight, it was like she could see everything. See right down into my soul. She patted my hand and looked me up and down, examining the tattoos she could see, glancing at Mercy and then back at me like she was picturing us on our wedding day or something.
It was amazing how I had no fear walking toward a gun pointed at me, yet I was afraid of making a bad impression on this little ol’ lady!
“Well, he’s easy on the eyes,” she finally declared, turning to Mercy who broke into a loud giggle.
“Grandma!” she scolded. “I’m going to go make some coffee and find the cookies. You two, behave!”
I watched as Mercy walked out of the room. Her hips swung and her long legs looked endless in that denim skirt. I knew exactly what I was going to do to her the moment we got back to the cabin. I wanted her all the time. Even though I was right there with her grandmother, I was thinking about having her naked in my bed.
I forced myself out of my fantasies when I realized I was being closely watched again.
I met Mercy’s grandmother’s eyes and I knew she had something to tell me.
“I don’t know how long I have to live,” she said, slowly releasing her grip on my hand. I sat back in the couch and cleared my throat.
I wasn’t exactly an expert at consoling…but knew I had to try.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Mercy is working toward getting you the right medical…”
But she cut me off. “Thank you, dear, but I’m not looking for reassurance. I’m just stating a fact. I don’t have long to live. I’ve always been worried for Mercy because, you know, she has a soft soul. She lives up to her name and wants to help everybody, but doesn’t know how to be selfish and think of herself. I encouraged it in her. I wanted her to be kind and a good human being and see the best in people, so maybe it’s my fault.”
I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but was beginning to feel like it could have been a personal attack on me. Grandma wasn’t just a kindly old lady. She had spirit and intelligence, and she could see right through me, see what I was.
