Thank you for your continued interest and support. I appreciate it. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Reaper's Legacy.

Just one more chapter and the epilogue to come...

SAM

I pulled up to Mercedes' place twenty minutes later. She was sitting outside on the little stoop with her arms wrapped tight around her knees.

She looked impossibly brittle, like she would explode into a thousand pieces if I touched her. And little red dots spotted her face.

Blood spatter... This couldn't be good...

"Hey. What's up?" I asked, crouching down. She looked at me with blank eyes. "Did you fall down or something?"

"No," she said quietly. "Shaun punched me in my stomach and threatened to kill Bray, so I killed him instead."

I froze...

"Excuse me?" I asked carefully, wondering if I'd hallucinated what she'd just said.

"Shaun punched me in my stomach and threatened to kill Bray, so I killed him," she repeated, meeting my gaze. "He was mad at me because he'd heard I was sleeping with you. He's always been crazy jealous, you know that. I don't know what set him off, but he must've been spying on me somehow, because he knew exactly how to find me. He was inside the apartment, waiting, when I got home from the karaoke bar. He kissed me, and then he started asking questions and punched me. He said he was going to kill Bray and I knew he meant it, so I hit him over the head with a cast-iron skillet until he died."

Oh hell!

I swallowed...

This was a lot to take in, but I didn't feel sorry for Shaun. On the other hand, this was one hell of a clusterfuck.

"Are you sure he's dead?"

Mercedes nodded slowly.

"I kept hitting him, just to make sure," she replied, far too calmly. "I checked his pulse. He's definitely dead. But I'm hoping you'll tell me what to do next. I finally did my own dirty work, Sam... But I don't know how to finish it."

Damn it!

I shouldn't have left her alone. I should've come to check on her when she didn't show up with the rest of the girls...

Fuck giving her space. No more...

"Okay," I said. "Where's Bray?"

"Spending the night with Emma," Mercedes said. "She'll get him ready for school in the morning. Then I'll pick him up on the way to work and take him with me."

Well, that was something...

"I'm going to go inside and check things out," I said. "Is that okay with you?"

"Sure," she murmured. "No problem. I'll just stay out here, I think?"

"That sounds good," I told her, reaching out and cupping her cheek. She leaned her head into my touch, her eyes starting to water. Then I stood up and stepped passed her, opening the door...

Fuck!

Double fuck!

Shaun was on the floor, his hair matted with blood... A pool of it surrounded him. And a horrible stench filled the air, a mixture of burned meat and scorched hair.

The pan lay next to his corpse, more blood crusting the sides. It had splattered behind him, too...

That would take some serious cleaning. New linoleum for sure, and they might even need to replace the floorboards underneath, I mused.

I checked Shaun's pulse just to be sure, but Mercedes was right. My stepbrother was definitely dead.

This was a mess... A big mess... And cleaning it up wouldn't be pretty.

I was proud of her, though.

She'd defended herself when it counted. But ultimately this was my fault. I should've dealt with Shaun four years ago. Then again when I'd collected the child support.

Fucking weak of me.

I'd held off because of Bray.

I didn't want to kill the boy's father. And I didn't want to do that to my own mother, either.

She'd loved Shaun for reasons I had never understood. So I'd given him another pass... Leaving his child's mother to finish the job.

Fucking idiot!

I should tattoo that across my forehead.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Plank...

"It's Wringer," I said. "I'm out at Mercy's place. I could use some help here, it's delicate. Anyone up for it? Probably gonna need a van..."

"How delicate?" Plank asked. He hadn't been drinking much, either, thank God. Neither of us had quite relaxed since the kidnapping, and that vigilance might just save Mercedes' ass now.

"About as delicate as it gets," I said slowly. "We should talk in person."

"Gotcha," Plank replied, hanging up.

I went back outside and found Mercedes still sitting on the porch. So I sat down behind her and wrapped my arms around her body, even as my legs surrounded hers and pulled her close.

She shivered...

"Hey," I whispered, nuzzling her neck. She leaned back into me and I realized she was crying softly, tears rolling down her face.

Good... Crying was better than that creepy calm she'd had earlier.

"I'm really sorry, Sam," she told me. "I keep calling you in to fix things... Always making you do the hard stuff. First Rachel, now this. I should've called the cops..."

"No way," I said. "That's a mess we don't need. You might get off on self-defense... Then again, you might not. Not after you kept hitting him. He was just sitting when you attacked, right? He wasn't about to hit you or anything?"

"Not really," she replied. "He was looking at his hands and I was supposed to be cooking eggs."

"You did what you had to do," I said, hoping she believed me. "He chose this... He threatened your son, Mercedes. You had to protect Bray. That's what mothers do."

She nodded her head.

"I know," she replied. "He said he'd kill all of us and I knew he meant it. The restraining order didn't do shit. And going to jail only stopped him for a while... What if he'd hurt Bray next time? I wasn't willing to take that chance."

"We'll clean this up for you," I replied, resting my cheek on her head. God, I loved the way she smelled. And for once, my dick had the grace to stay down. "Hopefully nobody knew he was coming here. He'll just disappear. And if the cops ever come looking, we'll say I did it, okay?"

"You can't..." she tried to protest, but I cut her off.

"I'm not planning on it," I said. "Trust me, prison isn't on my bucket list. And if we play things right, it won't be an issue. He wasn't here... It never happened. But if the shit hits the fan, you'll do what I tell you and what the club lawyer tells you. Got me?"

"I just feel so bad dragging you into it."

"We're a family," I whispered. "We take care of each other. That's the way it works, babe. You protected yourself and Bray, now I'll protect you. My brothers will cover my ass, and we'll all make it through just fine."

"We are a family, aren't we?" she whispered.

"Always."

She nodded her head slowly, and I squeezed her tight as we sat together quietly waiting for Plank, listening to the frogs and crickets singing in the background...

MERCEDES

Sam, Plank and Sketcher took care of Shaun.

They made him disappear, along with the frying pan, my clothes and every other piece of evidence in the house.

Erasing a human life shouldn't be so easy...

Sam had me take a shower, then I crawled into Bray's bed and tried to sleep. But even if my mind hadn't been racing, I was hurting too bad to get any rest.

I was going to have a hell of a bruise... But least it wouldn't show anywhere anyone could see.

The sun was already rising when I heard Sam come back and turn on the shower. Twenty minutes later, he padded into the bedroom and lay down next to me, pulling me into his arms.

I turned and burrowed into him, holding him tight.

"Thank you," I whispered fiercely, and I meant it. Not just for tonight, but for everything. "Thank you for always being here for me."

"It's what I do," he whispered back. Then his hand came up and ran through my hair softly. Soothing me.

"I was wrong," I said.

"Hmmm?"

"I was wrong about you," I continued. "I kept saying I didn't want anything to do with you, that the club does horrible things. But I'm the one doing horrible things."

"You survived, Mercedes," Sam replied, and his voice didn't waver. "And you protected your son. That's not horrible."

"When I called you, you could've told me to fuck off," I replied. "Because I had no right to drag you into this. Now you're an accomplice."

"It's over, baby," he said. "Let it be over. I'll come by in a couple of days, put some new flooring in the kitchen and throw on some paint. Then it's done. We don't need to talk about it, okay? In fact, we shouldn't talk about it."

"Okay," I whispered. "What about us? I feel like this changes things."

"We don't need to figure it out right now, Mercedes," he said. "Try to sleep. You've got to be up in an hour for work. It's going to be a long, tiring day, and you've got to get through it. On the bright side, if anyone asks why you look like shit, you can say you're hungover. There are plenty of witnesses to that, thank God."

"I wish I could call in sick," I said. "But I suppose calling in with a hangover this early into the job isn't such a good idea, right ?"

"Probably not," he said. He kissed the top of my head. "Like I said, we don't have to figure things out right now, but I'm going to stay with you for a while. I don't want you alone."

It didn't occur to me to argue, because I really, really didn't want to be alone. I'd never believed in ghosts, but I was pretty sure Shaun planned to haunt me...

Probably for the rest of my life.

A week later, me and Sam still hadn't talked things through...

But he moved me and Bray back into his house the Saturday after I took out Shaun. And this time I didn't argue with him.

He put me back in my old room, and while we spent almost every evening together, he never did more than give me a quick kiss good night.

I appreciated that more than I knew how to say.

Things had changed between us in a profound way, though. Something I think we both knew.

All our fighting and nitpicking seemed so silly now. So did my endless agonizing about whether or not I should be with him.

Once a man disposes of a body for you, the moral high ground has been lost.

Nothing says commitment like accessory to murder.

Sooner or later, we were going to be together, I knew that. But I just wasn't ready yet. And surprisingly, Sam was patient.

We were both worried, that yet another move would upset Bray, but he took it in stride... Apparently, he'd never considered Emma's place as anything more than an extended sleepover anyway.

As for Emma... She just gave a huge Cheshire cat smile when I told her we'd be moving.

Apparently, life goes on, even after you kill someone.

Marge and Stud had their rehearsal dinner the following Friday night...

I wasn't originally invited to it. No reason I would be, considering I wasn't in the wedding party or a member of the family.

And of course, I didn't know them before...

Sam was Stud's best man, though, so he had to be there. And in his eyes, and in those of the club, we were officially a couple now. So Bray and I were invited, too.

Plus, Marge wanted us to be there.

It felt good to be included.

The wedding itself would be taking place out at the Armory, which seemed odd to me at first.

Then I found out they weren't getting married in the building or courtyard itself...

Out beyond the wall was a large meadow where people camped out for club functions. And it backed into a grove of old-growth trees, forming a natural canopy that was perfect for a wedding.

Marge's and Stud's wedding...

There were already tents set up along the edges, but the center and back were marked off with neon-orange ribbon that outlined an area for the ceremony.

I offered to watch the kids during the rehearsal, including Spirit's two boys. So we hit the play area inside the courtyard, and they all ran around like wild animals, shrieking and jumping off the swing set.

The rehearsal dinner was in the courtyard, too, so I found myself helping the caterer set up while we waited.

Her name was Lori and she was a friend of the club. And she had a wicked sense of humor.

I also met Marge's mom, Misty and her stepdad, Horace.

Misty was... Different.

She looked a lot like Marge though. In fact, she could've been her sister...at least at first glance.

But where Marge's hair was wild and free, her mom's was in one of those styles you just know takes an expensive hair cut, double-processing, and a shitload of product to make it look so natural and perfect.

Marge also didn't usually wear makeup... But her mother's was flawless, and her clothes never seemed to wrinkle.

She was the portrait of a stylish matron...except for the smell of cigarette smoke wafting around her.

But she was poised and stunning too... And utterly batshit crazy.

The crazy wasn't subtle, either...

She had a manic energy that couldn't be contained, and she hovered around Marge like a hummingbird.

Obviously, she was overjoyed for her daughter. But just watching the woman was exhausting...

How the hell Marge coped with that, I didn't know. And I didn't want to find out either.

On the other hand, I learned that Lori was more than a nice person. She might possibly be a saint.

No matter how many times Marge's mother made her rearrange everything, she did it with a nod and a gracious smile.

This was a step beyond impressive, because Marge's mother rearranged things seven times...

Then she rearranged an eighth, this time while people were actually serving.

Bray and I left around nine, just as things were starting to get interesting.

Guests had been arriving all day, camping out behind the Armory, and they joined the party once the official dinner events had ended.

But I was exhausted and my whole body ached, so I was happy to leave.

I still had bruises, although thankfully no broken ribs this time, so I collapsed into bed alone, wishing Sam was there with me.

But again, he was being the perfect gentleman by not crowding me and giving me time to heal...

The morning of the wedding dawned warm and perfect.

They'd taken a risk, planning an outdoor event in early October. But it paid off, because there are few things more beautiful than fall in Colorado.

The evergreen-covered hills were spotted with bright yellow and orange patches. And the air had a sharp feel that made me think of that first burst of flavor when you bite into a crisp apple.

It took all I had to keep Bray inside while I got ready. I knew he'd be filthy by the end of the day, but I wanted to at least start things out with him clean.

Sam hadn't come home last night... I assumed he'd been partying with Stud all night, but it made me wondered about what they'd been doing...

There had been tons of people at the party last night, and a lot of them were female...

He'd told me after the kidnapping that he didn't want anyone else but me, that he'd be faithful. He'd even given me a soft kiss good night when he'd walked us to the car last night.

But I wasn't quite sure what our new arrangement was supposed to be, or where the limits stood.

Because we still hadn't talked about it. We weren't even having sex...

Did that mean he'd been sleeping with someone else?

Multiple someone elses?

Thinking about it made me feel sick.

I could just ask him...

There were things he wouldn't tell me, but I don't think he'd lie. I just wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.

I pulled up to the Armory about an hour and a half before the ceremony was supposed to start. There were cars everywhere. And bikes, too.

I saw Sketcher as I pulled up, and he raised a hand in a friendly wave. Then I walked around the Armory and let Bray join the pack of children running wild out there, because the courtyard was off bounds.

They were busy setting up the reception in there...

Plank leaned back against the wall, watching the kids with a thoughtful look on his face. Then he saw me and waved me over.

"How you doing?" he asked.

I shrugged.

"Pretty good, I guess," I said. Looking everywhere but his face. I managed to choke out something I'd meant to say the night before... "Thanks for helping me. I mean, last weekend."

"No worries, never happened," he said, cocking his head and studying my face. "But I've been meaning to talk to you..."

"Sure," I agreed, because I owed him in a big way.

"Do you know what happened between Mel and Seeker?" he asked bluntly. "She's not herself, and she won't say shit to me. That's not normal. She's always been my girl...the one who'd tell me everything. Now she's closed off."

I sighed and looked into his face. His blue eyes held concern, and I saw how much it hurt him to ask.

"I don't know," I said. "She was alone with him the first night, and then again for an hour the next day. She never told me what happened, but I don't think he raped her, if that's what you're after. She didn't seem like a victim. Mel was pissed at him...really pissed. That's about all I can tell you."

"It's more than she's said so far," he replied. His mouth tightened. "She's upstairs with Marge. You might as well go up, too. They're like a bunch of fuckin' harpies. I tried to go up and talk to my daughter earlier and they wouldn't let me in the room."

"I need to keep an eye on Bray."

Plank glanced towards the pack of kids running through the grass.

"He's not goin' anywhere," he said. "There're plenty of adults out here already. You should be with Marge."

"I don't even know her that well," I protested. "I feel kind of strange..."

"Honey, you're in this club as deep as any of us at this point," he replied, his voice commanding. "Hard to get much deeper. Might as well have some of the fun, too."

He smiled and I found myself struck once again at how handsome he was for an old guy.

"Okay, I'll go see how they're doing."

"Have fun," he told me. "And keep an eye on Mel. If you can think of any way for me to help her, let me know."

"Of course."

I found Marge up on the third floor in one of the bedrooms.

Meg had discovered me in the kitchen and recruited me to help her haul up beer. Apparently, Marge had decided that marrying Stud completely sober wasn't the world's greatest idea.

And as her girlfriends, we were required to join her...because that's what friends do.

Let it never be said I've abandoned someone in their time of need...

We lugged the beer up the stairs, Meg telling me that she'd never seen Marge more beautiful... Or more stressed out.

And on that note, I heard her yelling before we reached the room... Something about being a grown-up and wanting to make her own decisions.

I swung the door open and dropped the beer on the floor with a clanking of bottles.

Marge stood in the center of the room, wearing a gorgeous white dress. It was very classic-looking, with a sweetheart neckline, a narrow waist to show off her figure, and a sweeping gown.

Part of her hair was pinned up, the rest cascading down in a riot of curls, and she wore flowers woven through it. And no veil.

I guess she'd gotten her fill of white tulle during the limo ride.

"I love you!" she yelled when she saw me, although I wasn't sure she even noticed who I was.

Nope, she zoned in on the beer, grabbing one and popping the top off using her engagement ring as a church key.

She chugged almost the entire bottle, then set it down and turned to face her mother defiantly...

"My daughter is not wearing black leather for her wedding," Misty proclaimed, waving the offending item in her hand.

It was Marge's vest with her "Property of Stud" patch.

"Stud wants me to wear it," she snapped. "It's important to him."

"It doesn't go with your dress," her mother snapped back. "It's ridiculous! This is your day... you should look like a princess!"

"If it's my day, why can't I decide what I wear?" Marge asked, her voice rising.

Her mother's eyes narrowed.

"Because I'm your mother and I know what you really want!" she yelled. "Fuck! I need a smoke."

"I don't want my dress to smell like smoke," Marge shouted back. "And I want my day to be about me! Give me my fucking property patch!"

"No!" her mother hissed.

She looked around frantically, then spotted a pair of florist's scissors on the counter...

Snatching them up, she held them to the vest menacingly.

"Stay back, or the patch gets it!"

We all froze...

"What if you take the patch off the vest and put it on the dress?" I suggested suddenly, inspired by the scissors. "That way you can still wear it, but the vest won't ruin the lines of the dress for the pictures."

"You can't pull off the patch," Spirit declared. "That'd be like divorcing Stud... But we could make a copy of it and pin that on her."

Silence fell across the room as Marge and her mother fought a silent battle with their eyes.

Misty's nostrils flared.

"I could live with that," Marge said slowly. And we all swiveled towards Misty.

She nodded slowly.

"I'm willing to accept it."

They glared at each other a moment longer. Then Misty held out the vest slowly and Marge snatched it back.

Without wasting a second, Spirit grabbed the vest and took off downstairs, presumably in search of the copier.

"I'm gonna go smoke and do some of my peace affirmations," Misty said slowly, spearing us with her eyes, one by one. "When I come back, the patch will be on the dress in such a way that it's not visible from the front, for the pictures. If I see it from the front, we'll have a problem and no peace affirmation on Earth will be enough to save your asses. We have an understanding?"

She swept out of the room and Marge growled,

"I need another beer."

I handed her one quickly, then grabbed one for myself. Holy shit! And I thought her mom was crazy last night...

Marge pounded her drink as Spirit reappeared, panting. She held a color copy of the patch up triumphantly.

"Where do you want it?" she asked. "We'll have to tape it on the dress right before you head down the aisle."

"I want it on my butt," Marge said, just as I'd taken a drink. "So my mother has to look at it through the whole damned ceremony."

I couldn't help myself... I started giggling, which I tried to cover with a cough, forgetting I had a mouth full of beer.

I ended up snorting it out my nose, and then everyone lost it...

Spirit was actually crying when she finally stopped, and we all took a moment to poke at our eyes with tissues, trying to fix our makeup.

Then she turned to Marge...

"I like the idea of it back there," she said, biting back another laugh. "I know it'll piss off your mom, and that's great. But it'll also send a nice message to Stud..."

Marge's eyes widened.

"Oh, you're right," she whispered. "Let's do it."

And that's how Marge ended up getting married to Stud with a property patch on her ass.

Stay safe!