The car smells like stale coffee and leather cleaner.
Mercer grips the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white. The streets blur past her window as she drives through the suburbs toward her mother's house.
Her phone is pressed to her ear.
"We have to keep going after him," Mercer says, her voice sharp. "I don't care what it takes."
Detective Borne's voice crackles through the speaker.
"Ms. Mercer, we can't try to convict him of the same crime twice. Double jeopardy. It's over."
"Then find something else," Mercer snaps.
There's a pause on the other end.
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Use that girl of his. Bella. She knows things. She has to."
Borne sighs heavily.
"My cover is blown, Ms. Mercer. Jack has no doubt told her who I am by now. She won't talk to me."
Mercer's jaw clenches.
"You should have been more patient. You shouldn't have revealed yourself so soon."
"And you should have protected your witnesses better," Borne fires back. "If you'd done your job, Jack might be in jail right now."
Mercer's face flushes red.
"You're useless," she hisses.
There's another pause. When Borne speaks again, his voice is quieter. More serious.
"Ms. Mercer, I've seen some of the file cases on people who tried to snitch on Jack a year ago. It's not pretty. You need to run. Take your kid and go somewhere far away."
Mercer scoffs.
"Jack wouldn't do anything to me. He's gotten softer since he had my husband killed. And I'm a public prosecutor. The heat wouldn't be worth it."
"I'm warning you—"
"I don't need your warnings," Mercer interrupts. "I need results."
She hangs up before Borne can respond.
The silence in the car is deafening.
Mercer takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Her hands are shaking. She grips the wheel tighter.
Jack Morris.
That smug bastard.
He thinks he's untouchable.
She pulls into her mother's driveway and parks in the garage. The engine ticks as it cools. Mercer sits there for a moment, staring at the steering wheel.
Then she gets out.
***
The house is quiet.
Too quiet.
Mercer steps inside, closing the garage door behind her. She kicks off her shoes and sets her keys on the kitchen island.
"Mom?" she calls out.
No answer.
Mercer frowns. She walks through the kitchen, her footsteps soft on the tile floor.
"Mom, are you here?"
Still nothing.
A knot forms in Mercer's stomach. She moves faster now, her heart starting to race.
She rounds the corner into the living room and stops dead.
Her mother is on the couch. Tied up. Gagged. Her eyes are wide with terror.
And there are two men next to her.
Twins.
Identical.
One of them is sitting on the armrest, playing with a dagger. He's twirling it between his fingers, the blade flashing in the light. He's leaning close to Mercer's mother, dragging the tip of the blade along the fabric of the couch. Dangerously close to her skin.
He doesn't seem to notice Mercer yet.
The other twin is sprawled on the opposite end of the couch, his feet up on the coffee table. He's watching television like he owns the place. His face is long, his nose crooked. He looks completely relaxed.
Mercer's breath catches in her throat.
Who the hell are these people?
The lazy twin glances over at her. He smacks the other twin on the shoulder.
"Stop playing," he says. "The woman is here."
The fun twin looks up, his eyes lighting up when he sees Mercer. He grins widely.
"Come in, come in!" he says, gesturing with the dagger like he's welcoming her into her own home.
Mercer's heart is pounding. Her eyes dart to her mother, who's staring at her with panicked, pleading eyes.
Then Mercer looks around the room.
Where's my daughter?
Where is she?
Panic floods through her. She takes a step back, her hand reaching into her purse for the pepper spray.
The lazy twin's voice cuts through the air.
"That's a bad idea."
Mercer freezes.
The fun twin pouts.
"Aw, you almost made this fun," he says, his tone playful. "I was hoping for a little excitement."
"We're not here for fun," the lazy twin says flatly.
Mercer's voice shakes as she speaks.
"Why are you here? What did you do to my daughter?"
The fun twin tilts his head, his grin widening.
"You know exactly why we're here," he says. "Don't you?"
Mercer's mind races. Jack.This is Jack.
She forces herself to stand taller, to muster some courage.
"If you lay a hand on any of my loved ones," she says, her voice trembling but firm, "I will personally destroy you. Let my mother go. Tell me where my daughter is."
The fun twin's grin doesn't falter. He flips the dagger in his hand and throws it.
It flies past Mercer's face, missing by an inch, and embeds itself in the wall behind her with a sharp thunk.
Mercer gasps, her hand flying to her face.
The fun twin stands and walks toward her. He cups her mother's face with one hand, his fingers pressing into her cheeks.
"You're in no position to make demands," he says softly.
Mercer's courage crumbles. Her voice cracks.
"What do you want?"
The lazy twin speaks without looking away from the television.
"We don't want anything. Your daughter is upstairs in her bedroom. Go check."
Mercer blinks.
"What?"
"Your daughter is upstairs," the lazy twin repeats. "Safe. Unharmed. Go."
Mercer's mind is spinning. She's here? She's safe?
"Let my mother go," Mercer says.
The fun twin shakes his head, still holding her mother's face.
"Your mother is the contingency plan," he says. "Everyone leaves unharmed as long as you follow directions like a good girl."
The lazy twin finally looks at her.
"Go upstairs," he says.
Mercer hesitates for a moment. Then she turns and runs.
***
The hallway upstairs is dimly lit. Mercer's footsteps are frantic as she rushes toward her daughter's bedroom.
She pushes the door open.
And stops.
Her daughter is sitting on the floor, surrounded by dolls. She's smiling. Laughing.
And Jack is sitting across from her, playing along.
He's wearing an eye patch over one eye, a ridiculous pirate accessory that looks absurd on him. Her daughter is wearing a plastic tiara.
Jack is holding a doll, making it talk in a silly voice.
Mercer's heart skips a beat.
Her daughter looks up and sees her.
"Mommy!" she squeals.
She jumps up and runs toward Mercer, her little arms outstretched.
Mercer scoops her up, holding her tightly. She backs away from Jack, her eyes locked on him.
"What did you do to her?" Mercer demands, her voice shaking.
Jack smiles. It's a calm, easy smile.
"We were just playing with dolls," he says.
"Bullshit," Mercer snaps. "A thug like you doesn't just play with dolls."
Jack raises his hands in mock defense.
"I didn't do anything but play with her," he says. He points to the eye patch. "We even played dress-up. I was the one-eyed pirate. She was the pretty princess."
Mercer's daughter holds up a handful of candy.
"Look, Mommy!" she says. "Me and Mr. Pirate went out to get ice cream and candy!"
Mercer's stomach drops. How long has he been here?
She sets her daughter down and kneels in front of her.
"Go to the bathroom," Mercer says.
Her daughter frowns.
"I don't have to pee."
"Now," Mercer says sharply.
Her daughter's face crumples, but she obeys. She walks out of the room, her footsteps soft on the carpet.
Mercer stands and crosses the room in three quick strides. She slaps Jack across the face.
"Never," she hisses, "be within a hundred feet of my daughter ever again. I will get a restraining order on your ass."
Jack slowly takes off the eye patch. He sets it down next to the doll he was playing with.
Then he shoots up.
His hand wraps around Mercer's throat.
She gasps, her hands flying to his forearm. Jack pushes her backward, slamming her against the wall. He lifts her until her feet are dangling.
Mercer's face turns red. She claws at his forearm, scratching, slapping, trying to pry his fingers away.
Jack's face is inches from hers. His voice is low. Deadly.
"You're not in a courtroom," he says. "You will address me with respect. Or you will not address me at all."
He tightens his grip.
"Nod if you understand."
Mercer's vision is starting to blur. She nods frantically.
Jack lets go.
Mercer drops to her feet, coughing and gasping. Spit dribbles from her mouth as she struggles to breathe.
Jack squats down in front of her. He lifts her chin, forcing her to look at him.
"Your vendetta against me is over," he says. "I want all the documents you have on me burnt. All the evidence destroyed."
There's a flicker of defiance in Mercer's eyes. But then she thinks of her daughter. Her mother.
"Fine," she rasps. "But let my mother go."
Jack stands and helps her to her feet. Then he cups her face, his grip hard.
Mercer goes on high alert.
Jack leans in close, his breath hot against her skin.
"I'm not dumb," he says. "I know that as soon as I leave here, you'll think of ways to betray me. And if you do, I will hunt down every single one of your loved ones and kill them in the most brutal way. Then I'll have you sold to one of my brothels to serve men until your pussy dries out."
Mercer tries to pull away, but Jack's grip tightens.
"The only reason you're alive," he continues, "is because I have a use for you."
Mercer's voice is barely a whisper.
"I'll never work with you."
Jack's smile is cold.
"You will if you want your mother to stay alive."
Mercer is silent.
Jack releases her face.
"You will investigate and build a case on a man named Cage," he says. "The same way you did on me. But this time, better."
Mercer stares at him, her chest heaving.
The bathroom door opens. Mercer's daughter walks back into the room.
Jack's expression shifts instantly. The coldness melts away. He smiles warmly.
"How's the princess doing?" he asks, his tone light and playful.
But the daughter senses her mother's unease. She looks at Mercer, her face worried.
"Is Mommy okay?" she asks.
Mercer forces a smile.
"Everything's okay, sweetie," she says. "Me and Mr. Morris were just having grown-up talk."
Her daughter wrinkles her nose.
"Ew, grown-up talk," she says.
She runs out of the room.
Jack picks up his jacket from the bed. He slings it over his shoulder.
"You have nothing to worry about," he says. "I'd never hurt the child."
He walks toward the door, then pauses.
"I like children," he says. "They're the only innocent creatures on this planet. If I ever have one of my own, I'll take that chance to raise them the way I wish I was raised. By the looks of it you're doing a better job than my parents."
He looks back at Mercer.
"Don't make me make your daughter an orphan."
Mercer bites her tongue.
Jack leaves.
***
Mercer stands frozen for a moment. Then she bolts.
She runs down the stairs, her heart pounding. She bursts into the living room.
The twins are gone.
Her mother is alone on the couch. Unconscious.
Mercer rushes to her, shaking her shoulders.
"Mom! Mom, wake up!"
Her mother doesn't respond.
Mercer shakes harder, panic rising in her chest.
"Mom, please!"
After a few attempts, her mother's eyes flutter open. She looks disoriented. Confused.
Mercer pulls her into a tight hug, tears streaming down her face.
"Thank God," she whispers. "Thank God."
Her mother pats her back weakly, still groggy.
Mercer holds her for a long time.
Outside, the sun is setting.
The house is quiet again.
But the fear lingers.