No Mercy Read Online Free PDF Page A

from her
    cheeks with the back of her hands.
    “What the hel is going on, Belle?” Gerald shouted through the door.
    Damn. The owner was not an easy man to be around and she did her best to avoid pissing him
    off.
    She pocketed the phone, turned and opened the door, and faced the scowling man who, at five-
    six, was half an inch shorter than her. He was almost as big around as he was tall.
    He glared at her. “Your makeup is a mess and your eyes are red.”
    She wiped below her eyes with her fingertips in an attempt to wipe away smudges. “I just learned
    a close friend of mine died.”
    “Pull yourself together and cry on your own time.” He narrowed his gaze. “I have a restaurant to
    run. Get back to work. Now.”
    Her skin prickled. She had only worked for him for two months, but she’d grown to find he was
    a cold man. This, however, was beyond anything she’d expected. She regretted leaving the
    restaurant she had managed before this one. It had seemed like such a good opportunity at the time.
    She straightened. “Give me five minutes to fix my makeup.”
    “Make it three.” He started to turn away when she stopped him.
    “I need to take off the rest of this week.” She straightened as he slowly looked back at her. “I
    have to drive to Arizona for the services and the funeral. I’l be gone five days.”
    “You are needed here.” His tone was icy.
    “I’m needed there, too.” Belle tried to keep her hands from clenching into fists. “I’m leaving
    tomorrow morning.”
    He gestured toward her desk. “If you plan on leaving, then you’d better pack up your things
    now.”
    She stared at him, unable to believe his ultimatum. “My friend just died.”
    “Your leaving isn’t going to bring your friend back.” He snarled the words. “So get your ass to
    18

    ***
work.”
    Belle turned and walked to the desk. She reached into the bottom drawer and pulled out her
    purse. She hadn’t worked here long enough to accumulate anything.
    She slung the purse over her shoulder and walked back to the shorter man. “You have my
    address. You can mail my final check directly to me.”
    His face turned a deep shade of red. “Don’t even think about coming back.”
    She slipped past him and strode out the back door into the parking lot, letting the door slam shut
    behind her with a final heavy thud .
    The fury burning through Belle twisted with her need to grieve for Nate. Damn Gerald. Now she
    was out of a job, and soon she’d be on her way out of town. She liked having a decent savings, but
    it wasn’t going to last long with all that was hitting her at once. Not to mention she had a mortgage
    and car payment to make.
    And then there was Dylan. He had called her himself.
    Just the sound of his voice had brought back memories so sweet they were almost too painful
    to bear. All they had shared, all the plans they’d made…everything turned to dust.
    She climbed into her red Prius and slammed that door, too. In moments she was headed to her
    house, thirty minutes away from the restaurant.
    When she finally reached the subdivision, she pulled her car up to the community mailboxes
    and climbed out. Her box was lucky number thirteen. She jammed her key into the keyhole and
    opened the small door before digging out junk mail and bills then locking the door again. She flipped
    through the mail as she walked back to the car and stopped before she reached for the door handle.
    A card with no return address was in the pile of mail. It was a postcard from Bisbee, a photo of
    the Copper Queen Hotel on the front. Her brow furrowed and she climbed into her car and shut the
    door behind her. She tossed the rest of the mail onto the passenger seat before focusing on the
    postcard.
    She flipped it over. When she saw the untidy penmanship and started to read, she felt blood
    drain from her face.
    Belle,
    You’ve come a long way from that teenage girl who had to leave. You’ve done well, and
    I’m proud of you.
    I’ll