by Bane, Lucian
Visions of her stripping down on a table hit her. She dreaded how this would all end. Sade better not drink. She didn’t want two drunks on their hands, not while her and Bo were incapacitated. What if there was an emergency, or a fire? Would be very selfish and stupid of them to do that, fucking idiots.
“I can cook something maybe,” Mercy offered as Liberty brought a jewelry box to her next. How long had this woman lived here? Did she always go to safe houses with so much stuff?
“That kitchen is just as much yours as it is mine. You do whatever you want to.”
“Can I borrow this one?” Mercy held up the long black dress, and Liberty walked over and snatched it from her, holding it up.
“Oh dear God, no!” she shrilled. “You’d look like a nun in that. No, no, you want to look pretty. Let me help you.”
Mercy bit her tongue with the nonsense in her head while Liberty gasped and held up another black dress. “Now thisssss is what I’m talking about!”
Mercy tried to decipher what the hell the thing was. Looked like a dress that had gotten blown to shit. You couldn’t make out one gaping hole from another. And yet, she couldn’t find a reason to say no to Liberty’s stupid helpfulness. Did she never possess any manipulative skills? Backbone?
Then there was that little part of her that got a little thrill at dressing… inappropriately. She felt like somehow in all of this, Sade was provoking her and the urge and need to kick back was there.
“And this…” Liberty put the black dress down and snatched up a red one, plastering it to her body with gyrations. “…is what I’m wearing. You like?”
“Wow, hot,” Mercy said, biting her tongue on, who is your date?
“Right? Whoever this shit belongs to has amazing taste.”
“This… isn’t your stuff?”
She shot a look at Mercy. “Hell no.”
It wouldn’t be the first time the woman gave an answer that demanded more of an explanation she wouldn’t be giving. She looked down and around, feeling like she was trespassing all of a sudden. “Who is this stuff for?”
“Not sure,” she said, sounding honest.
“You have theories?”
“This entire place is ridiculously stocked, honey. I’m not surprised at all. I even found a room with male selections! Can’t wait to see what our guys look like all dressed up too. Oh!” she squealed, holding up a pair of red spiked heels. “I might break my neck in these, but it’ll be worth it!”
Boy, it surely fucking would. Mercy had visions of tripping her as she stared longingly at the pile of shoes, seeing a pretty pair that she’d love to wear. Too bad she’d gotten crucified. You could kinda say she’d even died and was buried. Just waiting to be raised from the dead now.
Our guys? The sharathon thing poked hot holes in her stomach.
“People think I can’t be a woman because of this,” she yanked her glove off her hand and wagged her mechanical fingers. “Oh but I can.”
The burning sensation went up a thousand degrees at her sultry tone. “Of course you can!” Mercy said in rooting excitement for her. “You’ll knock them dead in that.” Or him. “I’ll go check on Bo to see if he found something to wear.”
“Oh no you don’t!” she gasped. “I have to get you ready, fix your hair, do your make-up.”
“That’s not—“
“Oh pleeeease,” she begged, “I never get to do stuff like this,” she whispered. “Just this once?” She came at Mercy then. “Let me help you out of those clothes.”
“No! I can do it. In the bathroom.”
“You sure, I don’t want you hurting your feet.”
“I’m positive.” Jesus, this bitch was nuts if she thought she was touching her or looking at her. Her skin crawled as the ménage ideas crowded in on her.
“Fine, take it to your room and I’ll come by and do your hair and make-up.”
“I’m fine, I can do it. I need to go see if Bo needs any help.”
The woman finally gave in and sighed. “Okay, yes. Go take care of your Bo, I’ll have a peek in on our Sade.” She winked and hurried out of her room, leaving Mercy staring after her in silent disgust with the urge to ram her head against the wall.
And our Sade? It was so time to back the hell up. Sade was supposed to be hers, God help her if it turned out she was part of some triangle bullshit. She’d sure be telling him that was a hell-fucking-no-go.
Another idea suddenly hit her. Him being tired of not being remembered. She resisted tears of frustration as she wheeled herself to her room and slammed the door. Then she speed rolled to the bed and pulled out that notebook that would give her answers she needed, to help her remember.
Anger zapped her tears away at remembering Bo’s words I know he loves you. A lot. Really? Sure didn’t feel like it with the way he acted with Liberty. He’d say it was just friendly of course, nothing more. He’d say that with words fraught with grins and double innuendos. Loved me my ass.
He was playing her. She could feel it. He was playing something. Just how the hell did she end up with him? It must’ve started off one thing and evolved into some kind of… victim relationship. She gasped, realizing. I met him right after Dad died! At a nightclub! Dear God! She’d likely been depressed and not thinking straight—vulnerable. And the sadomasochist took it and ran with it, took advantage of her need to help people too!
She opened the notebook, ready to unravel the mystery of Mr. Sadomasochist. She’d know what direction to go in once she did.
****
“A party?” Bo wondered. “How’s that going to help her memory?”
Sade sat in the chair by his bed, hating to think it wouldn’t help. He scrubbed his head with both hands, not sure if he could stand another day with her not remembering.
“What’s up man?” Bo asked.
The concern in his voice slammed him with bullshit out of left field. He opened his mouth to answer, afraid to use his voice. “I don’t know how to exist anymore, Bo,” he said. “I know that sounds so fucking stupid.”
“Nah, man,” Bo said extra softly. “I get it, she’s your rock. Your anchor in the storm.”
Sade sniffed a little, eyeing him. “You writing poetry now, or what?”
“Fuck no!” he said. “I’ll shit flowers before I pull that out of my head.” Bo stared at Sade for a few seconds and shook his head. “Tell me what you got in that head of yours to help her remember. You gotta go easy, though.”
Sade eyed him. “Why?” Bo suddenly looked uncomfortable, and Sade leaned forward with a pointed look. “Tell me Bo, I need to know everything so I know how to help her.”
“She’s just… paranoid man.”
“But not of you.”
“Nooo, not me. Just you. And Liberty too.”
“Why Liberty? And why not you?”
Bo’s face crimped with exasperation. “She’s jealous man! Even though she doesn’t remember you. But I think maybe it’s more an ‘isn’t he supposed to be all into me’ kind of thing and if so, ‘why is he all up in her grill,’ you know?”
“Yeah, I know. But why you say it like that? Like you’re not sure she’s got nothing to worry about?”
“I’m not, I just…” He shrugged his shoulders and held them up while staring into the air before him. “I guess I wonder what you’re thinking. I know you’re thinking something, and I just can’t figure out what on this one. Usually I can name why you do what you do, but this one…” he shook his head, that clueless look on his face, “I get nothing but what the fucks.”
“Well that’s what the fuck’s going on. I need her to remember who she is and get through this wall between us. I don’t know how long we’re going to be here before the next mountain of shit hits the fan, Liberty already got word that we need to be ready to move.”
“She did?” Bo sounded worried.
“Yeah, and guess where we’re going? Nowhere, unless Mercy remembers the code to the tunnel leading out to our transportation.” Sade raise
d his brows, nodding at Bo’s sudden understanding. “Shit’s far from over and so she needs to remember for more reasons than me needing her. Although I swear to fucking God I don’t think I can live one more day with her not remembering, I’m not lying to you.”
“Right, right, man but… what shit is left you think?”
He looked at Bo dumbfounded. “What shit? Kane is out there moving on plan Z!”
“What’s plan Z?” He screwed up his face, more worried.
Sade realized how in the dark Bo was on the details and felt suddenly guilty. “I’m not real sure, but the fact that he’s at the end of the alphabet on ideas means it’s either going to go half-ass good or way bad. If it goes bad then whatever shit happens, that’s the shit.”
“With your dad, you think?”
“With whoever! But I do imagine that bastard is at the head of the avalanche.” Sade scrubbed his head. “I just don’t know what is coming. Can you see us on the run with no vehicle and no place to go? Three cripples?”
“And a terminator,” Bo said. “Sorry, I’m just… I’m freaking out. What about her dad, does he know about Mercy not remembering?”
“I assume, yes.”
“So we’ll just help Mercy regain her memory. We got a plan?”
“Yes. The birthday party for Liberty. I’m going to put on music that will hopefully help her remember.”
“Oh, good one.”
“Yeah and if that doesn’t work, I’m going balls to the wall with trying to use her jealousy.”
Bo’s brows shot up with that. “Uh-oh. Don’t like that sound of that.”
“Me either, but I’m desperate. I need you to play along.”
“How?” Slight disgust quirked his lip.
“Nothing trashy, just look oblivious, like you’re not seeing it.”
He stared at Sade then his brows slowly narrowed. “Oh my God, no! No, no, no, that is a very bad idea.”
“What—why?”
His jaw dropped in a huge gawk. “Dude! I need you to know that she is already suspicious of you, I told you that, she’s looking for confirmation that you’re a piece of shit and that right there…” He nodded vigorously with wide eyes, “That would do it!” He scooted up higher in bed and leaned toward him. “For some reason, whatever bad vibes she’s got with you, crossed wires,” he swirled his fingers at his head, “has her convinced there’s something negative about you. Do that stunt and you prove it, you connect the wrong wires.”
Sade growled, knowing he was right and sank back in his chair. “I was thinking it would spark her possessive side. I know she has it, I already see she’s jealous, she’s just not sure how to pursue it or what to do with it. I was hoping to get her in a position that makes her remember why.”
“Ohhh-ho-ho,” he said with wide eyes, “she’ll choose alright, but you may not like what. Sure you’ll spark her, and in comes Mercy Armageddon. No, dude, don’t chance it.”
Sade flopped his hands and let his head fall back. “The fuck do I do?”
“What if…” He looked at Sade full on now. “What if you used me and Liberty?”
“How?”
“I mean let me and Liberty you know, get kinky? But only not really!” he hurried with scared eyes.
“But… what would that do?”
“Well… it would make Mercy less worried about the two of you, allow her to let her guard down man, maybe you can use it as an opportunity to get some quiet time with her? I’m thinking you need to spend time with her without it looking like you’re trying too hard.”
“So just ‘hey, while Bo and Liberty are busy, how about we’ what?”
Bo shrugged. “Talk. Talk about helping her regain her memory, she’s not opposed to that.”
“She told you that? She won’t let me get near her hardly.”
“Yes, she told me, who wants to live without their memory? But if she’s busy playing detective with you and Liberty, she won’t be in a position to just relax with you, let it flow, let it come on its own. I think this may be like a touchy orgasm, you gotta,” he flicked his tongue, “draw it out.”
“Oh I’d love nothing more than to draw it out that way.”
“I can imagine.” He shot up both hands, “But I don’t! You know what I mean. Foreplay man. Drag it out. Prime it.”
“So you’ll keep Liberty busy and that’ll leave us…”
“Aloooone.”
“I definitely like that part, I’m sick of her always wanting to be with your ass.”
“Trust me, I feel that one!”
Sade eyed him with a grin. “Thanks man.”
He shrugged. “Eh.”
“I need to make sure Liberty will go for this, you aren’t currently her favorite person.”
“Pffffft. She can fuck herself with her middle robotic finger.” He shot a wide stare at him. “She probably does.” He sobered then and whispered, “All she has to do is agree not to drug me, or bitch will meet Curly and Mo.” He alternated his fists, making Sade bust out laughing.
“Curly and Mo, huh?”
“Damn right.”
Chapter Thirteen
Mercy sat in her bed with her jaw dropped, the notebook shut tight, her heart racing and her privates on fire. She’d read their first meeting. At his tattoo parlor. Oh. Dear. God. He was… so… She didn’t know the word for that, she only knew her body felt like she’d just exited a roller coaster ride that had sexual attachments on the seat!
She’d never get the image out of her head of his face hovered over her butt, smelling her sex and being turned on by it. How he’d wanted to hurt her while he was aroused did… odd things to her. It wasn’t serious pain, it was a tattoo, maybe that’s what prevented her from being too disturbed. And he was a sadomasochist, but she’d not known that at the time. Had she? Surely not, why would she let him touch her if she’d known that? Odds were unlikely.
He’d said she’d wanted to help him with his sexual issues, but surely it didn’t start out that way? Then again, she would’ve known about his condition if she’d wanted to help him. Was he telling the truth about that part? She really didn’t know enough yet.
And had she been aroused when that had happened? She couldn’t imagine not being. A Sex God with his hand on her butt. She must’ve been a wreck, how would she not be. Given her condition now she was sure she had been a mess. A very hot one. You may forget things, but you didn’t remember things that didn’t exist. Right? Lord, I hate this. Please help my memory come back.
She fanned her face and jumped when a knock sounded on the door.”
“Come in,” she yelled.
The door opened to her six-foot sex god dilemma. He made his way toward the bed on his crutches, and she was a fly in a web as she remembered the notebook! She needed to hide it! She needed to fix her face. She needed to check if she was hanging out of her clothes. She needed to not stare at him.
He stopped at the bed, concern on his handsome face. “You okay?”
“I… uh, yeah. I’m on…fine. I’m fine.” Her voice broke on a squeak.
His gaze narrowed and then lowered to the bed. To the notebook. “Oh.” Like that explained everything.
Heat burned her cheeks, and she looked down, clearing her throat.
“I was going to attempt cooking something for the party but… I’m not that great at it. Was wondering if you could give me some pointers.”
“Oh,” she said, relieved for the out. “Sure. Now?”
“We can get started, if you want. Not sure what I’m doing, maybe you can help with that part too. Just direct me, I can do it all.”
“I’d be happy to. Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you in the kitchen?”
“Works for me.” He turned and headed toward the door like he was ready to leave as much as she was ready for him to go. Was he embarrassed? That would be helpful. “See you in a few.”
And there he went, without turning back. She flopped back on the bed, gasping, heart still racing. Her hand to
uched the notebook and she lifted it again. She’d stopped at the part where Bo showed up at the parlor. She was now dying to know how that ended. Screw it. She flipped to the page and quickly read.
“I almost forgot.”
“Shit!” Mercy yelped, slamming the notebook to the bed, glancing at Sade’s head in the door.
“Sorry, I should’ve knocked. Was going to ask if you needed me to get you anything.”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you though.” Now leave!
“See you.” He shut the door, and again Mercy flopped back on the bed with a moan of shame.
What must he think? Why did he write all that? Did he mean to be so… X-rated about it? Something about him said that was all he knew, and it wasn’t necessarily intentional. And if it was, why would he do that, seeing she was skittish in that area? God, who exactly was she before this? What did she let him do?
The need to find that out burned her fingers. Tonight. She’d finish reading all of it if it killed her.
She wondered then. Just how experienced was she in sex anyway? Her body said zero, but she was sure the things he wrote said otherwise.
She hurried to get dressed only to discover there was nothing quick about that puzzle. By the time she settled on the only possible way to wear the contraption, she was positive it couldn’t be right and yet if it wasn’t, then her chest down to her pubic hair would be uncovered. So it was backless. Which meant braless. That wasn’t so much a problem as the halter being for a woman with actual fucking tits. She undid the hook behind her neck and tied the bitch so it actually fit. She’d have a fucking crick in her neck with the size bow she’d made.
All that was left was her hair. She grabbed the small clear makeup bag Liberty had dropped off and dug through it. She found bobby pins and fought them into her hair only to pull them all back out again. What if…
She yanked open the drawers and pulled out a pair of scissors and proceeded to cut the hair over her eyes. Interesting. Not too shabby. She added plenty of makeup now that you could see her eyes. When she was done, she was pleasantly pleased. Hello Cleopatra. She blew a kiss at herself in the mirror and turned sideways to see what she looked like. Oh my. Foxy Lady. She stuck her butt out a little farther, but it got lost in the folds of material. The only part that showed her body was where it hugged her waist and curved over her upper ass. Just enough mystery to make one curious.