Mercy's Angels Box Set Read Online Free PDF Page A

sec. It probably needs a new fuse, I’ve got heaps laying around,” my eyes were fixed on the folder before me. Bills, so many bills. Mercy had been hiding them from me. It had taken me the last hour to find the folder hidden under a tray of never ending filing. I knew she didn’t want me paying her bills, but fuck, I wasn’t about to use the money, so it might as well go to something good like the shelter.
                  “Mercy will be pissed if she finds out you’ve been going through her files again,” Beth chuckled. I looked up and grinned. Yep, she’d be pissed, if she found out. Beth looked tired. She was a fifty something year old woman who had lived a hard life, too hard and it showed on her lined face and in her tired eyes. I would take the first shift tonight even though I was dog tired myself. Beth needed a break.
                  “She will be pissed if she finds out. Are you planning on telling her?” I quizzed Beth as she turned to leave.
                  “Hell no! I’ve seen Mercy pissed and it ain’t pretty.” Beth strolled back down the hall leaving me alone in the icy office. Damn thermostat was most definitely not working. I ran my hands through my hair and grinned with lazy satisfaction. It was too long. I should probably get it cut, but after nine years of working for Uncle Sam and wearing his butt ugly military enforced buzz cut I was enjoying this slight rebellion. I stood and stretched my aching six foot six frame. Yeah, I was tall. Mercy says she has no idea where it comes from. She’s all of five foot five and according to her, my good for nothing father barely reached five-six. Grabbing a spare fuse off the bookshelf I made my way down the narrow corridor and down the steep stairs to the basement. It was freezing down here and dark and damp. The dark had never bothered me and I had endured climates of both bitter cold and scorching heat before. I was the only one who would come down here. Mercy was too busy, David had no idea how to replace a fuse and Beth was convinced a ghost had taken up residence. Against the back wall was my unmade bed, the uncomfortable portable kind. And in the center of the room hung a punching bag, this was my timeout. When looking at the bruised and battered bodies of women and children got to be too much I came down here and beat the anger out of me. I was blissfully anger free right now, so I bypassed the bag and quickly sorted out the new fuse, adjusted the thermostat and climbed the deadly staircase out of the basement, making sure to close and lock the door at the top. There were two children with their mothers who had found refuge in the shelter at the moment and I didn’t want either of them stumbling down the unsafe stairwell. My nose led me straight to the kitchen where dinner was being prepared. I rubbed my hands together, enjoying the warmth radiating from the ovens. Nancy, a middle aged woman with wisps of grey hair amongst a short brown bob took a nervous step back away from me. Nancy was new, she had only been staying with us a week and she was as skittish as a mouse. Her cautious green eyes were submissively downcast, her hands timidly linked in front of her rubbing anxiously at her fingers. I pretended not to notice the fearful response and smiled. It was the usual reaction from the women in the shelter who did not know me well. I was a big powerful man and most of these women had run from big powerful men who had beaten the ever living crap out of them. I knew I made many of them nervous, but for the regulars, they came to realize I would not lay a finger on them. I was a diehard protector, especially when it came to women and children. In the shelter, I was handyman, gardener, dishwasher, office boy, the resident go-for and on occasions, security. Mercy’s shelter for abused women was owned and run by my mom, Mercy, and whenever I returned from a mission, I would help out.  My last mission was in