amazon.com/authors/laurengilley

You can check out my books on Amazon.com, and at Barnes & Noble too.

Monday, September 29, 2025

Fearless Read-Along: Chapter Twenty-Four

 


Mercy felt a prickling up the back of his neck when Ghost walked in. He heard the bell above the door, and he knew it was his VP, before Ghost came around the table and rested a forearm on the back of the opposite stool.

               Mercy was full to bursting with guilt, with remorse, with the kind of raw, familiar pain of Louisiana, but none of that was connected to Ghost in any way. He didn’t feel anything as his vice president fixed him with a freezing look, his jaw locked. He sipped his coffee with lifted brows, waiting, refusing to even hint at an apology.


If this book had chapter titles, Chapter Twenty-Four would be "A Series of Confrontations." There's not a single pleasant conversation in this one. 

The whole situation here just plain sucks, for all parties involved. I wanted it to be messy; I wanted none of them to have the right answers. My goal with every scene was to write them as a real family, not one that quickly and neatly comes to the correct decision. 

The events of the night before shocked everyone. Daylight is for ramifications. To Mercy's credit, he doesn't run, nor does he go to Ghost to apologize and beg forgiveness. At this point, Ghost hasn't decided to transfer him back to New Orleans, and had Mercy groveled, he wouldn't have, because he does see him as an asset for the club. Ghost spent the overnight hours rationalizing that Mercy didn't respond to his command in Hamilton House because of adrenaline. It was a crazy scene, and Mercy was in redzone attack mode. In the harsh light of day, though, it becomes quickly apparent that, when it comes to Ava, Ghost has zero control over Mercy. If he'd been able to threaten him, and forbid him from seeing Ava, and keep him around, he would have. But the moment in the bakery tells him all he needs to know. Plan B it is, then. 

Cut to Ava and Aidan in the hospital. 


He lifted what smelled like a sausage biscuit in offering. “Food?”

               “Not hungry.” She pushed the covers down to her waist and frowned at her hospital gown. “When are they going to release me?”

               More of that careful look from Aidan. He took a biscuit for himself, put the first on the side of her bed, and dropped into Maggie’s abandoned chair. “Probably when you’re ready to be released.”

               She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. I have so much schoolwork still to catch up on. I can’t afford to take any more days off.”

               Aidan paused with breakfast halfway to his mouth. “Um…you know what happened to you, right?” He cringed, like he hated the thought. “Or did the bump on the head - ?”

               “I know exactly what happened to me.”

               He took a bite, chewed slowly. “Okay.”

               “You’re the one being weird about it.”

               He swallowed. “I expected–”

               “Crying? Screaming?”

               “Yeah.” Some of the usual snark came back into his voice. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to be a girl?”

               She twitched a thin smile. “No. I was raised by Dogs and the women who take care of them.” She glanced at the door, the freedom that lay down the hall. “I want to see Mercy.”

               Aidan snorted. “Yeah. That’s not happening.”


Over the years, both Ava and Aidan have caught their fair share of heat, and even some hate from readers. Not to be That Author, but I think, at times, neither of them get enough credit. I also think it can be easy for readers to say that they would do things differently in the given situation, when the given situation is a bad one. People have a habit of thinking of themselves as mature and rational at all times, when, really...well. You know. 

I love this scene because the thing about Aidan is that, at his core, stripped of all outside influence, he's a goofy, sweet sort of guy, with a little of his dad's mean streak, granted, but basically a decent person. He loves his sister. He brings her breakfast. His worry is genuine. But he also grew up in this violent, unforgiving outlaw world, and he's spent his life both consciously and unconsciously trying to fit into it, and so he's always at war with himself. He checks those kinder impulses and replaces them with assholery enough times that he starts to be an asshole. The push-pull of inherent personality and circumstantial environment makes him seem immature. And he is, to be sure. But that's to be expected when you're a club nepo baby rather than someone who sought out the club after a traumatic past, like Michael or Mercy. 

Ava is Aidan's inverse: she's naturally ferocious, and struggles with comporting herself in a societally accepted feminine manner. She doesn't have Maggie's natural social grace - but that's partly because Maggie grew up in a house where it was forced upon her, and Maggie in turn let Ava be herself. Ava only had to put on a performance outside of the house, and so she's clumsier with it, and more quickly resorts to bluntness. The funny thing is that her same ferocity is seen as valuable in Maggie, but earns Ava the label of "bratty and spoiled." *shrug* Writing books about women for women is a minefield. The fact that there's never a consensus on why some readers hate her tells me she's a very real character, and that if she strikes a nerve, it's about outside perspective, and not my execution. Also, it's okay to dislkike a character; it doesn't mean she's poorly crafted. In this scene she goes full Maggie - and full Ghost. Miss Scarlett O'Teague is going to "think about that another day," remember? The wallowing will come, but for now she's compartmentalizing like a mother, and she's not going to take any lip off her brother, of all people, Dog or no Dog. 

Cut to Maggie at the DAR meeting. On SoA, Gemma went around hitting people with skateboards and threatening bitches constantly. Maybe that's how they do things in California, but Maggie's a Southern gal. She'll pull her gun when she needs to, but her first approach is going to be beating these women at their own game. She's going to poison enough wells with a cotilion smile so she doesn't take the fall for anything. Don't let the Southern drawl fool you: things get bloodthirsty down here...we just do it elegantly. 

In the hospital, Mercy already senses what's coming.


How strange, she reflected, that it was her comforting him in this moment, that it was Mercy struggling, and her doing the petting.

               “It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his temple.

               She felt his lashes flicker as he blinked. “No it’s not,” he said. “Oh, fillette, no it’s not.”

Not to come to Ava's defense yet again, but she's young. She's still convinced things can work out in their favor. 

This last scene contains one of my favorite moments of the book.


 

             “She is seventeen–”

               “So was I!” 


There's something delightful and rewarding about getting readers angry with a character; it's stopped feeling like words on a page, then, and the characters are real people you want to shake. Every time someone says, "Ghost is such a hypocrite!" I smile. He is! I love it. To be a parent is to be a hypocrite, at least to some degree. Do as I say, not as I do. And outlaw or not, a father seeing a distinction between his own romantic past and those of his kids feels terribly universal, especially when it comes to daughters. 


“That was different.”

               “How?” Maggie demanded. “Please, for the love of God, Kenneth, explain to me how that was even a little bit different.”

               “It just was,” he growled. “You knew what you were doing. You–”

               “I was a slut? Is that what you’re reaching for?” She slammed the closet doors and went to flounce down on the end of the bed, arms knotted across her middle. “I’d been pawed at by two boys” – she held up two fingers – “in my class, and you knew exactly how much I didn’t know. Age didn’t seem to slow you down then.”

               “It’s different,” he insisted, but she could see some of the fight bleeding out of him.

               Maggie softened her tone. “Because she’s your daughter, and it’s always different with daughters.”

               He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple punching in his throat. “After everything I did for him…”

               “There’s two different kinds of bodyguards,” Maggie said. “The ones who care, and the ones who don’t. You picked one who ended up caring…and now you want to crucify him for caring too much. You can’t have it both ways, baby. If I’ve learned anything from club life, it’s that.”

               Ghost shoved away from the wall and left with his shoulders set at high angles.


I didn't write up any discussion questions ahead of time, but feel free to hit me with any of your own questions. Thanks for being here! 

No comments:

Post a Comment