Have Mercy

by N. E. Henderson

  After Danny’s door closes, I sit back, relaxing against the back of the couch. I’m silent. My mom is silent. Neither of us knows where to begin. Am I hurt? Hell yes, I am. I’m her son. Why wasn’t her loyalty to me?

  “It wasn’t easy, Jamie,” she starts. “If that helps any.”

  “The thing is, Mom, it doesn’t. Why did you, of all people, not tell me I had another kid?”

  “What did Jen tell you?”

  “Why does that matter now? Why can’t you just open up and tell me everything that you know; that you know I need to know too?”

  “There is nothing a parent wouldn’t do in order to keep their child safe from harm. Even if that means hurting them by protecting their life or the life they created.”

  “Please tell me that isn’t the answer you’re going with, Mom.”

  I don’t know how much more of this vague shit I can take.

  “If you thought keeping certain things from Brandon or even Danny because you believed telling them there was a chance it would get them killed, would you? Would you keep them in the dark no matter how much they wanted to know, begged to know?”

  Rather than answer the question she already knows the answer to, I pose another. “Explain how telling me I have a son would get me killed?”

  “Not you, Jamie.” Her experienced, tired eyes finally meet mine. “Danny.”

  Something Jenna said. But they are both wrong. If Danny’s life is in danger, we get protection. Hiding isn’t the answer. Hiding doesn’t keep people safe, it just means you’re chased and hunted longer.

  And that’s no way to live.

  Danny deserves more. Jenna deserves more, and that’s exactly what I plan on showing them if she gives me that chance, and I pray she does.

  Sleep eluded me for another night in a row. After my mom dropped that bomb on me—again without any real explanation, mind you—I crawled back in bed and laid there in thought for hours. I finally crawled out half an hour ago when Jenna went to take a shower. I needed coffee and I heard noise and figured the boys were close to heading to school.

  So far, I’ve only seen Danny. Brandon, nor my mom, has come down the stairs. I didn’t think to ask where she was sleeping, but likely it must have been one of the boys’ rooms upstairs. It’s still weird that Brandon has his own room here, but I’ve yet to ask why. That question seems less important than the rest.

  I’m on my second cup of black coffee as I stir cream into another mug for Jenna. She should be finishing up getting ready, and I want to remind her that I remember how she takes her coffee. There is so much I want to remind her of, and the sickening feeling I have in my gut makes me keep questioning if I’m going to get to them all.

  “Where’s your brother?” I ask Danny when he walks through the kitchen, grabbing a Pop-Tart from one of the cabinets, sticking it in the side pocket of his backpack. It doesn’t look like Brandon is going to be coming down the stairs. I know they have to leave for school any minute or they’ll risk being late.

  “Went to his other house after he dropped me off last night.” His voice has a tinge of irritation in it that makes me think he doesn’t like it when Brandon doesn’t stay over here.

  “You mean his only house? The one where he lives?” I don’t know why I’m poking him, but for some reason, I get just as irritated when I think about Brandon staying somewhere other than home on a regular basis, and why his mother would allow that is beyond me. There is no way that she’s met Brandon’s best friend’s parents, because if she knew Jenna was here, all hell would break loose. Then again, it’s not like she isn’t going to find out soon anyway. Danny isn’t a secret I plan on keeping the way Jenna or Mom or even my so-called best friend has for all these years.

  “Considering he sleeps here more than he does there, one might say this is his real house.”

  “Why are you two arguing this early in the morning?” My lips turn up at the sound of her voice. Unlike me, she does sound rested, and her voice is lighter today than it was yesterday, or even the morning before that.

  Jenna comes walking from down the hallway dressed in the same type of outfit I’ve seen her in for the past three days straight. I’m starting to think this is her FBI attire, but then I wonder if she dresses differently when she isn’t working. There is still so much I want to know, so many questions I want to ask. I don’t though. Last night was amazing and I’m not chancing ruining that bliss just yet.

  “Why are you letting him sleep in your bed?” Danny crosses his arms over his chest as Jenna stops in front of me, taking the mug I’m holding out to her. “Has he even taken you on a first date, Mom?”

  I wouldn’t have taken him for the joking type. Brandon? Sure. Danny doesn’t seem the type, but then again, I’ve known my son for less than two full days so . . .

  “Can it, smartass. Speaking of, though”—she jabs her finger into his chest—”your little ass better not make me a grandmother at thirty-six. We clear?” She nods slowly, indicating that his answer better be ‘yes, ma’am.’

  “Crystal.” His lips spread wide, showing a perfect row of white teeth. “You’d be at least thirty-seven before she popped the little shit out anyway.”

  “Language!” she scolds, smacking him on the shoulder. I laugh, unable to hold it in any longer. Danny chuckles. “I’m serious, Daniel James. You knock Maggie up, and I will. Beat. Your. Ass.”

  “I’m pretty sure Josh would kill me before you got that chance.” At the mention of the word ‘kill’ and that motherfucker’s name, my smile drops and my jaw locks. Danny’s eyes meet mine. “Did I hit a nerve, old man?”

  “You think?” I draw in a needed deep breath. Blowing it back out, the hot air blows through Jenna’s ponytail from her close proximity.

  Danny shrugs. “Maybe you shouldn’t sleep with my mom then. Ya feel me?”

  “Well,” I start, mirroring the same mock smile he’s showing me. “If I hadn’t ever slept with your mother, then your little punk ass wouldn’t be standing here talking shit, now would it?”

  “Enough, you two.” Jenna looks from me to her son, making her demand clear. “I want you home right after school. You and I have something to talk about.” Her eyes squint at our son, having a silent conversation. I don’t like it. I want to be a part of everything. That need only seems to be growing, not subsiding.

  “Sorry. No can do. I have training at Jackson’s until six with Josh,” he tells her, and at the mention of his name again, I want to break something. The punk is doing it on purpose, I see it in his amused eyes.

  “I don’t care. Tell Josh I said you have to report home.”

  “Can’t it wait?” He sighs.

  “Maybe that’s something you should have thought about before you decided to play little secret FBI agent and hack your own mother. You’ll be lucky if you see a computer ever again for that shit. Among other things,” she adds. Danny rolls his eyes, not taking her reprimand seriously.

  “One of you want to clue me in on what you both are talking circles around?” I ask, setting my mug down on the counter.

  “No,” they both say simultaneously without taking their eyes off of one another.

  “Look,” Jenna stresses, handing her coffee mug to me, but talking to our son. “We are talking about this and that other information you sent me yesterday when you get home today, so my advice to you is that you better come clean about everything you’ve been up to and everything that you know, Daniel. Am I making myself clear now?”

  “And all I’m saying is that there are some things we shouldn’t talk about. Don’t you agree?”

  “Not anymore. You made that choice when you went snooping.”

  “Can we all stop having secrets around here?” I say, feeling fed up with all this bullshit. “You can’t demand he tell you whatever it is he’s keeping his lips shut about when you won’t even tell me the real reason behind keeping him from me all this time.”

  “Back off, Jamie,” she says, the heat in her voice as let
hal as the hard eyes are that flick to mine. “This is between me and Danny. Got it?”

  “Not in the least, baby.” She ignores me, pulling her phone out of her back pocket, eyeing the locked screen, her brows creasing with concern.

  “Can Mommy and Daddy please argue after I leave?” he says, not expecting an answer as he turns away from us. “I gotta get to school.”

  “Can you call your brother before you leave the driveway?” Jenna asks Danny, still staring at her phone. “He’s still asleep and he’s going to be late if he doesn’t hustle.” How does she know that? I think to myself. “If he were here, instead of with her, he wouldn’t still be in bed.”

  The jab at my ex-wife’s expense has my mouth dropping open, not believing she just said that in front of Danny. I can knock on Julia for a lot of things, but not raising my son right isn’t one of them. She had to deal with a lot with me being on tour one to two times a year for the past eighteen years. Even I can cut her some slack if she isn’t on top of Brandon, making sure he’s up and ready for school on time every day. The boy is seventeen. He should be able to manage that duty all by himself.

  “Can we not talk about my other son’s mother negatively in front of either of the boys, please?”

  Danny snorts, stopping in his tracks and pulling my stare from his mother to him standing at the door I’m assuming leads into the garage. “Guess no one’s gonna talk at all in that case.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugs, not answering. Jenna doesn’t volunteer an answer either.

  “Yeah, Mom. I’ll call him. Love you.” He heads back over and leans down, dropping a kiss to her cheek, and in this moment, Julia is forgotten as I watch my son be affectionate with his mom. It fills my broken heart with joy, but it also makes me more aware of all that I’ve missed. And I’ve missed a hell of a lot.

  “Love you too, baby. See ya later.”

  Before he’s out the door, he glances over his shoulder, his indigo eyes falling on me. “Later, old man.”

  I nod, my voice caught in my throat. I’m quickly getting used to this, and I’ll do anything to ensure it isn’t ripped away from me again. Maybe Jenna is right; maybe I’m not using condoms because I’m hoping she’ll get pregnant and that’ll ensure I really am that permanent fixture in their lives.

  Don’t count on it, Jamie. That didn’t make a difference the first time. Don’t convince yourself that it’ll make a difference this time either. You’re just being desperate and reckless. Her words from last night slam back into me.

  Perhaps. But perhaps I want a do-over too, and not only because I didn’t get those years with Danny. I still want the whole package with Jenna. The best friend. The partner in crime. That one person I can tell anything to and not be judged. I can make a mistake and not feel like I’m going to be reprimanded for my failures.

  I want a real marriage. A real relationship. I want it all, and I want it with Jenna Thomas.

  30

  — Jenna —

  I went to sleep feeling lighter, yet more whole than I’ve felt in years. I slept peacefully for the first time since before Josh took me. I’d forgotten what that was like. My normal was a couple of hours here and there. I was usually the last asleep and the first awake hours before dawn. I’m not used to being the last one out of bed in the morning.

  Jamie woke me up with his beautiful, sexy head between my legs, and then, even though I vowed he and I couldn’t happen again, I didn’t put up a fight when he lined up his dick with my entrance—sans a condom again. Only, this time, I can’t bitch. I watched him sink inside me bare and hard as a fucking rock. Damn was it good too.

  But then I got out of the shower and this feeling of fear washed over me that I can’t seem to shake. Worry etches every inch of my body and I almost didn’t let Danny go to school. He doesn’t deserve the crazy, fearful mom that I am though, so against what my heart was screaming, I watched him walk out the door.

  I need to stay busy today. It’ll go away. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt helpless, worthless, desperate; it won’t be the last time either, no matter how much I wish for the normal person I used to be to come back to me. Instead, I’m this helicopter mom that feels strung out half the time.

  “Hey, Jen,” Jamie calls out, stealing me from my depressing thoughts.

  “Yeah,” I reply as he strides to me, stopping so close in front of me that I have to tip my head back to look at him, a serious expression marring his perfect face. His arms glide around my back, pulling me even closer, and then his fingers thread through my hair. “Can we continue living in last night for a little while longer? Let all the bullshit go for a few hours?”

  “Did you run out of questions to demand answers to?”

  He shakes his head. “No.” Then he leans down, his lips softly meeting mine. His tongue coaxes my lips, needing more of me. I open, letting him in as if I’m already his, giving him what he wants—even if for a moment. But like reality does, it brings me back to the here and now.

  “We don’t need to give the boys the wrong impression, Jamie,” I say between our mouths, trying to muster up the strength to pull away. “We don’t need to get their hopes up.” Yet, as my feeble words leave my mouth, I don’t pull away or stop my own pursuit to dance my tongue with his.

  I should have followed my son out of the house and left for work like I do every morning. This one shouldn’t have been different, except it was. Jamie is here and I wanted another minute alone with him.

  “They’re big boys. And I’m pretty sure we’re giving them the right impression, baby.”

  We’re not, but fuck me if I don’t want to get lost in this fantasy.

  Fortunately for me, or unfortunately, his phone decides to ring, breaking the spell I seem to find myself under when I’m locked in his arms. I’m more irritated at the nuisance of getting interrupted than I should be. I need to be grateful. Any more of Jamie and I’ll lose all willpower.

  He’s wrong. The boys don’t need to see us together; that’ll never be a possibility.

  31

  — Jamie —

  Fucking perfect. My phone just had to ring, ruining all the good shit happening between us. I see that look in her eyes, she’s thinking too hard. She’s going to stop this, and I can’t let that happen. Not if I stand a chance at gaining her trust, earning her forgiveness, and getting my woman back in my arms for longer than a few hours.

  Pulling my cell out of my front pocket, I grit my teeth at Julia’s name showing on the screen. Not now, bitch. I decline the call, sending it to my voicemail. That’s the only part of me she’s gonna get. We’re done. We’re over. The sooner she gets that through her head, the better for all of us.

  “I’ll be at work all day. Don’t really see the point in living in a fantasy, Jamie,” Jenna says, taking a big step backward. She isn’t getting out of this. She isn’t ditching me.

  “Nothing about last night or again this morning was a fantasy. Every second I was inside you was real,” I remind her.

  “And doesn’t need to happen again,” she quickly follows, looking away and taking another step away from me.

  I take a long step forward, closer to her than I was before she tried to gain distance from me. “Oh, it’s happening again,” I declare. “In fact, it’s going to happen in the next minute or two.” My lips spread.

  “I’m leaving for work, so no, sorry, my legs are closed. Besides,” she exasperates, “it’s not right to give your son the wrong impression.”

  “The boys are damn near grown. They’ll be fine.” Why the hell is she harping on the boys. They’re teenagers, they’ll be fine. Perhaps it’ll be an adjustment. Hell, it’ll be an adjustment for me too. But I want this, and I know Jenna wants it too. It’s written all over her face in plain sight. She’s doing a shit job hiding her true feelings from me.

  “I’m not talking about Danny. He can handle almost anything. It’s Brandon you need to be careful with. He already has parent
al issues, he doesn’t need more.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “That’s for you to discuss with him.” She sighs. “It’s not my place to interfere in your relationship with him.”

  “Well, how about you explain his OD that no one has yet to elaborate on. That is the least you can do if you aren’t going to tell me any more of your other secrets. And yeah, baby, I know you’re still holding on to things that I need to know, that I have a right to know. Spill, Jen.”

  “You really need to talk to Brandon, Jamie.”

  “I’m talking to you. I’m asking you to tell me.”

  Her eyes close, shutting tight, and I know I’ve got her. I see the resolve on her face. Finally.

  Her eyelids flip open, staring up at me. “You left for your winter tour. He’d just found out about the divorce. He was alone. He hates being alone. In fact, Brandon literally can’t deal with being alone for any length of time.”

  “He wasn’t alone. His mother is always there for him.”

  “Trust me, Jamie. You need to talk to him. Not me.”

  “Well, he isn’t here, and I want answers. And you have them. Why do you know more about Brandon than I do? Why does he have a room here? Why does he sleep over here more than he does at home, if what Danny claims is true? Why do I feel like I’m the only one that doesn’t know shit about shit when it comes to my life?”

  Jenna shoves me backward, away from her, and then takes a breath. “I just told you. He doesn’t like being alone.”

  “And I just said, he isn’t alone. He has a mother—”

  “She is not his mother!” she yells angrily. “That bitch might have given birth to him, but she has never mothered him.” A humorless laugh sneaks out of her mouth. “Well, not unless she’s putting on a show for you, that is. Brandon is and has always been her means to getting what she wanted—you.”