Have Mercy

by N. E. Henderson

  She’s quiet, not saying a word until finally, her angry eyes snap up to mine. “This is what you based everything on? This is what you accepted that made you throw away the eight years we had known each other?” I go to interject, but she shakes her head. Her brown eyes throwing accusations at me the same as her mouth is. “This is what made you throw away your trust in me?”

  “You’re smiling at him in one of them, and then you’re kissing him in the next. What—”

  She jumps off the bed, throwing the photos at me, her anger mounting to epic proportions that has the fair skin on her face and neck turning beet red. “They don’t show that I tried to knee him in the balls after I reared back and slapped him across the face for kissing me, now does it?”

  I was so consumed with betrayal that that never once crossed my mind. I can’t answer her, and she can clearly see what’s warring in my mind on my face.

  A sardonic laugh pops out of her mouth. “Unbelievable, Jamie.” Her head shakes slowly. “You never once gave me the benefit of the doubt. No one did,” she finishes, and I feel lower than low.

  “Jen,” I start. “You’re right, I didn’t and I’m sorry.” I’m so fucking sorry, and I don’t think she’ll ever understand just how sorry I am. She meant more to me than anything, even music and my band, yet when she needed my strength, my willpower, I wasn’t there for her. I didn’t continue fighting for anyone to find her. Even when the last person I ever expected to be in her corner tried to reason on her behalf, I shoved him into a wall and told Cole never to speak her name again. No—she’ll never know just how sorry I am because even if she did willingly kiss another guy, I still should have allowed her to tell me her side of it. I shouldn’t have taken Julia’s word. But then . . . she sure as fuck didn’t mention that Jenna pulled away or hit the guy back. She made it sound like my girl was in the arms of another man because she wanted to be with him rather than me.

  So, who do I believe? The woman standing in front of me, the one I loved and lost, or the one I married? Julia had no reason to lie. She was as hurt over Jenna ditching her as much as she was sad that she’d ditched me.

  Shit isn’t adding up, that’s for damn sure.

  “I can’t believe you right now.” She turns away from me, disgust in her tone.

  She goes to leave, to walk away from me, but I can’t let that happen, so I’m off the bed and at her back before she reaches the door. Grabbing her as gently as possible by the elbow, I stop her. Maybe I’m not sure who to believe and who not to believe at this moment, but there is still one thing that I don’t get but need to know.

  “I still don’t understand why you never told me about Danny. Okay, I was an asshole and I didn’t allow you to explain your side of anything. But at any point you could have blurted out, ‘I’m pregnant.’ Why didn’t you?”

  “I was scared!” she yells, and that sobers me completely up, the whiskey I’d drank half an hour ago vaporized from my system. There’s a crack in her voice. “I was so scared, even after you left, and still scared when I found out Danny was safe inside of me. I was underweight, but he was healthy. I couldn’t chance anyone finding out about him. I didn’t even tell my parents until I was eight months along, and the only reason I told them was because I was freaking out, thinking I was going into labor.”

  “How did they not know? Your mom is an OBGYN for Christ’s sake.”

  “They barely tolerated my presence. Like you, they only believed her and her fucking li—” She stops short of calling Julia a liar, her body suddenly going as solid as a statue.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” I ask, that thought pounding in my skull. Why did she abruptly stop like she doesn’t want me to know something when all I want to know is everything. Doesn’t she see how much I need all the answers she holds? If nothing else, so that I can make sense of it all. She claims she was scared, but even so, she has to know that had she told me about Danny, I would have done anything, and I certainly would have done whatever she needed to feel safe. Even feeling betrayed, I wouldn’t have let anything or anyone harm her or our baby.

  “I want to take you somewhere. I want to show you something.” She takes a deep breath, air expanding her chest before coming out of her mouth in a swoosh. “Will you go with me?”

  Still holding her by the arm, my forehead tips down, touching the back of her head, then I nod my yes rather than speak the word.

  So many things still unanswered. I’m pretty sure I’d follow her straight into the Devil’s den if it meant getting the answers I need to know. Even if it means her words will kill me, I’d still go wherever she asked.

  I still love her, maybe even more now than I did years ago. Years didn’t subdue anything that I feel for her. If anything, my love as grown without me realizing it.

  I’m so fucking fucked.

  24

  — Jenna —

  Present

  He wants to know it all. Every detail. Every second I was Josh’s captive. Every second afterward when I wasn’t with him. He wants those seconds back; I can see it in his haunted eyes.

  But telling him all of it . . . I mentally shake my head. I’m not sure I can hurt him in that way. He already knows the past eighteen years of his life, hell, half of his existence, is a lie. I don’t think telling him Julia’s part would do him any good, and I certainly don’t want Brandon to know what an evil bitch his mother is. He already harbors so much pain because she doesn’t show one ounce of interest in his life. I’m not willing to destroy their relationship completely, even if she doesn’t deserve the son she created in order to keep the man I love and me apart.

  There is no doubt in my mind had Julia not gotten pregnant that Jamie and I would have eventually found our way back to each other a lot sooner than now. Not that we’re back together, and I can’t say there’s a future—not yet anyway. I still harbor my own pain for the way he treated me back then and how he so easily tossed our relationship out the window, all over unsubstantial evidence.

  I’m not sure I can forgive him for that, and that pains my heart, because no matter how hard I’ve tried to stop loving James Hart—I can’t. My heart refuses to let him go, even though with him comes so much pain and agony.

  “Isn’t this a vacation rental?” Jamie asks, eyeing me and then our safe house after slamming the passenger side door closed.

  “That’s what it’s meant to look like,” I tell him, rounding the front of my car and stopping until he steps toward me. Glancing at the front, I explain. “It’s technically a safe house, but it’s so much more than that. When we rescue victims of human trafficking, they come here because they want to. After being released from a hospital, of course,” I clarify. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

  “Am I allowed here?” he questions, following in behind me.

  “It’s a space that is funded through an independent foundation. The FBI has partnered with the psychologist that runs the house. We often times work here. We have a command center of sorts.”

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  I sigh, stopping at the front door. It’s locked. We keep it that way so that Jessica’s patients feel more secure while they are staying here. Panic attacks are common occurrences and often a daily part of life behind the solid wooden door in front of me.

  Lifting my key, I ask myself if I really want to divulge exactly why I wanted to bring him here. It only takes a second for me to decide that I will. There are too many secrets that he’s in the dark on that I don’t want to keep anything else from him. I know I should be blatant and just lay everything out on the table, but my gut won’t let me get the words out. I wish I could, but after all this time, I still haven’t gotten over my fear. It’s only turned me into an overprotective mom. No. If I’m honest with myself and I do like to think I am, I’m beyond overprotective. I’m a word that doesn’t exist.

  But at least my son doesn’t give me too much shit about it, so I do have that to be thankful for.

  “When I came ba
ck, you didn’t really see me. In fact, you made it your mission to purposely not look at me, so you didn’t really see the turmoil I was going through. You didn’t see how scared or how helpless I felt.” I pause, taking a breath. “I wanted you to meet a couple of people that went through similar things that I did. I want you to see them, Jamie. Really see them, and see how going through what they have has affected them.”

  I finally turn my head, tucking my hair behind my ear to glance at him from where he’s stopped at the next to the last step from the small patio. Even though the sun has fully set in the Pacific, I can still see his shadow thanks to the streetlight being so close to the patio. Guilt swamps his face and eyes. I see it so clearly.

  Jamie finally steps up, nodding his head and acknowledging my words.

  “There’s just one thing I need to tell you before we walk in.” His head pops up, waiting for me to continue. “No one besides the woman that runs this place knows my name, or my team’s names. I need it to stay that way, so you can’t call me by Jenna or Elise or even my last name. If you have to call me anything, they know me as J.”

  “Why is that?” he asks, giving me a pensive look.

  I turn, facing him. “Just because we’re able to rescue them”—I nod my head toward the door—”doesn’t mean we always catch the bad guys. And some of those bad guys are so devious that they often come searching for what they consider their property.”

  “Are you saying these people don’t get protection after they leave here?”

  His concern for individuals he’s never met is heartwarming, but like most everyday people outside of law enforcement, he doesn’t see the reality that we do.

  “Not all of them, hell, not even most of them are willing to go into witness protection or accept new identities. Most want to return to their lives, and some even want to pretend it never happened. Getting recaptured happens a lot, more than I’d like to admit, and we can’t chance anyone knowing our real identities.”

  “Does that put you in danger too?” He steps closer, almost close enough to be considered invading my personal space; not that Jamie has ever cared about that. He used to consider my personal space his personal space, and his alone.

  “What’s safe about anything law enforcement does? If it isn’t the criminals wanting to do us harm, it’s the cop haters wishing harm on us, and some follow through on their thoughts.” His jaw locks when he realizes the full impact of my job. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

  Jess isn’t on the first floor, I realize when I make my way down the hall and into the big kitchen, and then through a much bigger living room area. Only Cat and Mallory are here, one watching TV and the other reading a paperback book. Crissy isn’t in sight, so I’m betting she’s in a session on the second floor with Jess.

  “Hey, girls,” I greet them, stopping and placing my hands on my hips. “If either of you see Jess in the next half hour, will you tell her I’m here?”

  “I know you,” Mallory says, not paying me a lick of attention. From beside me, I see a smile slowly gracing her lips, the first one I’ve seen since we rescued her seven months ago. It looks good on her, and I make a mental note to tell Josh. “You’re that guy. The singer from Bleeding Hart. You’re Jamie Hart,” she declares, a surprised, full-on smile brightening her face and lighting up her brown eyes.

  “Yeah,” he draws out, not expecting to be recognized. I’m not sure why he wouldn’t expect that, seeing as he’s a famous musician. “I am.” He side-eyes me and I just shake my head.

  “You know,” Catherine says, cocking her head, analyzing him, her usually deep, sad eyes scanning Jamie up and down. “D looks just like him, only”—her chin jumps upward—”he’s older.” She glances over at me. “Is he D’s . . .?” Her question is left unfinished, but it’s not missed.

  She’s asking if Jamie is Danny’s father, and that wasn’t something I was prepared to answer. Nor will I answer, though her guess is spot on. My son has always been a spitting image of Jamie. That used to worry me to no end. Her question is exactly why, and a revelation that I’m not being as careful as I should be. As I know to be.

  “Excuse us, would you, girls?” I glance at Jamie, his jaw locked, trying to reel his temper in. “Come on.”

  “You bring my sons here,” he whisper-yells from behind me, following me into the control room on the third floor. We have the entire top part of the house. The patients know not to come up here unless it’s an emergency. Though we have cameras and alarms at every entryway, we still usually keep the doors open in case something happens and we have to rush down the stairs.

  It takes everything in me not to lash out at him. It’s not that I dislike him referring to Danny and Brandon as both of his, because they are, but I’m not used to anyone else actually thinking they have a say in Danny’s life. Josh thinks he has the most say, and I do give him a long leash where my son is concerned, but he’s always known where the line is. Danny isn’t his, and I’ve made damn sure he knows that. Same with Malachi, though, with my partner and best friend, he’s more of an uncle to my son like Cole is. Even Jess, as much as I know she loves my son for being himself and because of his feelings for her daughter, has always been able to keep Danny at arm’s length. Probably because she likes to think of him as one of her patients, the same as she does me, Mal, and anyone that enters this house, with the exception of her husband.

  “Danny? Yes. Brandon? No,” I clarify. In all honesty, sometimes I wish I had exposed Brandon to all the bad that his brother has been shown. It’s not that I don’t think he could handle it, it’s more that it isn’t my right to make that decision. No matter how much I love Brandon, I’m not one of his parents, so that means I don’t get to make that call.

  Jess isn’t thrilled with any of the things I show and teach Danny. She’s made it perfectly clear after each of our sessions that her daughter isn’t to be brought into the darkness of our world. Josh agrees with his wife for the most part, but that doesn’t mean Maggie can’t protect herself if need be. She trains with her dad on occasion, but Josh has Danny training her on self-defense and he works with her on different types of weapons, honing her skill. She’s a sixteen-year-old petite badass if I do say so myself.

  “Why would you expose a kid to all of this? I’m not okay with that, Jenna,” he says, spitting my name out in an angry tone.

  Maybe he doesn’t like calling me by my first name rather than my middle one. Though, I don’t rightfully care either way. I’ll admit, it’s still strange hearing it roll off his tongue. But maybe the more he says it, the more he’ll start to learn I’m not Elise. I’m not the girl he once knew and loved. The woman I am today is nothing like the naive girl I was back then. I’m wiser, stronger, and I won’t tolerate his issue with my judgment calls when it comes to the boy I’ve raised alone since the day Danny was born.

  I turn on my heel so fast he doesn’t have a chance to back up. “I will expose Danny to anything I damn well want. If I think it’ll make him smarter, stronger, fiercer, you better bet your ass I’ll do what I think needs to be done. You don’t get to question me. I’ve raised my son by myself for over seventeen years. He’s the same age I was when I was kidnapped. We don’t get a choice of the age we are when exposed to the bad in this world. I want him prepared for anything.” I jab my finger into his hard chest, pressing forward as hard as his skin will give. “And if this is the path you want to go down, Jamie, then guess fucking what? I’ve raised Brandon for quite a few years too.”

  His eyes widen, the fire in his irises lighting up as he stares down at me.

  “You’re going to throw that back at me? Really, baby?” He doesn’t give me a chance to counter or tell him not to call me that endearment. Not because I don’t like it, but because I like it too much. Not that I would admit that to him right now. “Here’s a newsflash. If you had told me about our son, you wouldn’t have had to raise him alone. I would have been there. We could have raised him together.”

  “And what ab
out Julia? What about her threat to take Brandon away and that you would never see him again if you so much as spoke to me again? Huh, Jamie? What about that?”

  “How do you know about that?” he asks, but before I can breathe even to give him an answer, the lightbulb in his head goes off. “Cole. Fucking, Cole. Why? Why did you tell him and not me? Why did you tell my mom and not me? Answer me those at least.”

  As worked up as I was getting, his defeated demeanor and his questions that are filled with so much hurt and betrayal is like a bucket of ice water being poured on me, cooling me off to the point of bone-chilling coldness coursing through me.

  “And what the hell do you even mean about raising Brandon? Last I checked, he was still being raised by me and Julia.” He waits a beat and when words don’t immediately form on my lips, his opens again. “He wouldn’t tell me any details of his OD. So that’s another thing you’re gonna tell me about.”

  “Making demands won’t get you anywhere with me. That’s something you need to learn right now. I’m not the girl that bends to your every demand, need, or whatever. You aren’t my number one priority anymore, Jamie.” His eyes flash with pain, telling me my words have wounded him. Still, I have a responsibility to keep those I love safe, and that safety sometimes means keeping them in the dark.

  “You weren’t that girl back then either. Not once since the day I met you have I thought I could bend you to my will, and not once did I want to. But fucking hell, Jen, you’ve got to give me more. Tell me everything, because the what-ifs of all you went through and then everything else you went through after I doubted you is eating me alive. I’m dying inside, and I need answers. I need them all before I blow the fuck up.”

  “You’re feeling guilty, and you think knowing every sordid detail will somehow punish you for not believing me, for not searching for me, for screwing another girl while yours was having God knows what done to her.”