by K. S. Adkins
“Wanna bet?” I ask raising my arm to, in fact, zap my own boyfriend to prove a point.
“I told you I didn’t think he spoke English, I also requested we try a different tactic when you pushed, yes pushed, me out of the way to zap him. Look at him!”
Glancing at the guy shooting daggers at me from the ground, I shrug it off because he was asking for it. “Yes well, I distinctly remember telling you that screaming is the universal language, but you didn’t listen!”
“Christ,” he swears. “Do you always resort to violence?”
“Not always…”
“Woman…”
“It’s the hair. And the tits. Throws people.”
“Uh huh,” he huffs. “Let me guess, you use your attributes to get their attention.”
“No,” I snort. “I use my gun. My badge. But, mostly the gun. It’s a big fucking gun, Dion.”
Kneeling next to the non-English-speaking-idiot I ask one more time, “Is your name Alexi Kosh? Because this photo is a dead ringer.”
When he attempts to spit at me, I slam my hand over his mouth and groan in frustration, “Fucking Russians.”
“I am not Russian, I am Ukrainian.”
“Oh look, sweetheart,” I gush. “He speaks English after all! Why, it’s a miracle!”
Ignoring my gloating, Dion helps the guy up asking, “Russian, Ukrainian, what’s the difference?”
Before they friended each other on Facebook, I took charge announcing, “For starters, Alexi here speaks Eastern Slavic not Belarusian. Although, if you get him going, his accent will sound more Polish than Russian. I’m guessing while he knows how to speak Russian, he doesn’t like that he does. Both cultures have more similarities than differences but it should be noted both cultures are also very stubborn so…”
“How do you know this shit?” Dion asks.
“I know a lot of shit,” I fire back.
“You should also know when to shut your pretty mouth,” Alexi brings to the group.
Facing him I ask, “So you think I’m pretty?”
“When do you plan to handle your woman?” Alexi questions Dion.
“I don’t handle her,” he warns. “But you speak to her like that again, your face will be choking on my fist.”
“He means the Fingering Final Frontier,” I add helpfully.
“Stop with referencing the sex book,” Dion blushes.
“What is she talking about?” Alexi asks him.
“I’m standing right here,” I remind the duo.
“Yes well, I do not wish to be assaulted by this large well-dressed man. Though I do not understand his choice in foot wear, it is not for me to judge. So, in effort not offend him, I’m ignoring you.”
“Do you two want some alone time? Is three a crowd?”
“What? I respect a man in a suit,” Alexi shrugs. “It is a nice suit.”
It always comes back to the suit. “Don’t even smirk at me, Dion. Just sign the damn papers.”
“If I refuse to sign, your woman is going to make my life a living hell, isn’t she?”
“Afraid so,” Dion grins at me.
“Think of me as a dog who wants her bone,” I wag my brows.
“I’ll give you a bone,” Dion chuckles so I gave him a fist bump.
“You two need church and professional help. He needs designer shoes. A man who wears a suit and athletic shoes does not earn respect.”
“My trigger finger is getting itchy, Alexi. I wonder if another zap would make you piss in your suit?”
Sticking his hand out he announces, “I’ll sign.” Handing them over, he scribbles his name, glances at me mumbling, “Fucking American women.”
Eyeing Dion one last time, he does the honorable thing and shakes his hand. Walking away, okay maybe he was limping, we both heard Alexi comment, “Still a nice suit though…”
Pinching Dion’s ass I warn him, “Don’t even start.”
It didn’t need to be said, I knew Dion was going out to buy more suits at the first opportunity.
Roger and I had just finished our meeting when Diane called him. Excusing himself to take it, I ask my bartender, Paul if he’s seen Mercy.
“I believe she’s causing trouble in the kitchen with Chaz, sir.”
Smiling at this, I grab my files and drop them in the office before taking the stairs to find Mercy.
I no sooner turn the corner that I find one of my employees, Tanya, crying into her hands. Uncomfortable and unsure what to do I ask, “What’s wrong with you?”
Caught off guard and weary of my presence, since I don’t make it a habit of chatting with those who work for me, she wipes her eyes and asks, “Have you seen Mercy, Mr. Fox?”
“Why?”
“Um,” she hesitates seeking an exit.
“I take it you would like to speak with her?”
“Yes,” she stumbles to say. “I mean, if that’s okay.”
“You don’t need permission to talk to my woman, Tanya.”
When her eyes go wide, I realize my tone was scaring the shit out of her. It seems the only woman not afraid of me was the one I’d claimed. “She’s in here, come on.” Guiding her inside, we both pull up short as Mercy lights a dish on fire yelling, “Opa!”
Jesus, the flame on that son of a bitch could have lit her hair and half the kitchen on fire…
“She’s not afraid of anything, is she?” Tanya whispers in awe.
As far as I knew, there was only one thing Mercy was afraid of and it wasn’t flammable food.
“Dion!” she squeals. “Tanya! Come and try my very first saganaki!”
With Chaz passing out plates, each of us takes a bite and it was all I could do not to spit it out. When she asks, “Well, how’d I do?” Tanya was the first to say, “It’s delicious,” while gagging.
“How much Ouzo did you use?” I ask wishing I could the taste out of my mouth.
“Um,” she scratches her head looking a Chaz for help. “I might have spilled some…”
“It’s potent, I’ll give you that.”
“It’s okay to say it tastes like shit,” she says taking our plates away and before I could get a word in, Mercy looks Tanya over and asks, “Are you crying?”
And just like that the woman starts bawling.
“Oh my God,” Mercy says pulling her in for a hug. “Was it that bad?”
“It’s not the food,” Tanya whimpers. “It’s Rusty.”
When her face goes stony, I step closer and ask, “What did he do?”
Rusty was a member here. Had been since the day we opened and always sought Tanya out. Last I had heard, they were seriously involved. “I want to talk to Mercy,” she says holding her tighter.
“You can trust Dion,” Mercy insists. “But we can’t help you if we don’t know what happened.”
Sucking in a breath she says, “I’m pregnant.”
“Sex has been known to make babies,” she agrees. “But you two are exclusive and talked about living together. I assume the pregnancy changed his mind?”
“I’d say so,” she sniffles. “He called me a whore, told me it wasn’t his and when I insisted it was, he…”
“He what, honey?” Mercy pleads.
“He hit me.”
Calmly and slowly, Mercy calls, “Chaz?”
“Miss Mercy,” he says coming to her side no doubt hearing the conversation.
“Finish my cooking lesson with Tanya, please.”
“Mercy,” she pleads. “I don’t want to cause trouble –”
“Where did he hit you, Tanya?”
Looking at me, then to Chaz and finally to Mercy, she whispers, “My stomach.”
Tucking Tanya into his side, Chaz ushers her away leaving me with an openly volatile woman.
“Get me his address,” she says rolling up her sleeves.
“I’ll do you one better,” I say reaching for my phone. “I’ll have him brought here.”
Nodding to me, Mercy said she was going to check in
on Pita and needed a minute.
I knew what that meant. Digging.
Two hours later when Rusty graced us with his presence, he found himself in the lounge with Roger, Chaz, Mercy, and myself. The asshole knew the score and even had the balls to say, “You can’t prove the kid is mine and you can’t revoke my membership because she was too stupid to get knocked up.”
“You aren’t here because we want proof,” I warn him. “And the least of your concerns right now is your status in my den.”
“Then why the fuck am I here?”
Stepping forward Mercy gets in his space and announces, “You’re here because we won’t stand for abuse.”
Chaz was the first to take her side, followed by Roger and then myself. Surrounding her, Rusty laughs, “So what, you brought your woman here to threaten me? Looks like Dion already got the drop on you.” He was referring to her black eye which pissed me right off.
“This is funny to you?” Mercy inquires.
“Yeah,” he sneers at her. “I don’t fear any woman no matter who she belongs to. This shit with Tanya is no one’s business. How I handle her is no one’s business either.”
“Quick question,” Mercy smiles. “What did you have for lunch?”
Before Rusty could formulate an answer, Chaz buried his fist in his stomach and he crumpled. Coughing, and curled into a ball, Mercy kneels down and explains, “I love a good mystery. I love solving puzzles. I’m nosey, and because of that, I’m very good at what I do. So, imagine my surprise when I found out you have a wife and two kids at home.”
“You don’t understand –” he coughs out.
Reaching in her pocket for her phone, she puts it to her ear and says, “Pita, send her in.”
Pissed off and shaking in fury, Rusty’s wife towers over him and says, “I’ve contacted my attorney, sent the police evidence of your heavy hand, and even shared it with your family. Not only did you cheat on me, but you put your hands on another woman too. I should have done this a long time ago but because I was afraid, someone else got hurt. That ends now. You will never hurt me, my kids or her kid ever again.”
Taking her side, Mercy rests a hand on her arm and whispers words only she can hear. Giving Mercy a nod, I watch her reach in her pocket then placing her taser in the woman’s palm. Smiling at Rusty, Mercy says, “This is going to sting.”
And as a group we watched Rusty’s wife zap the ever-loving shit out of him. Leaning down, I whisper into Mercy’s ear, “Justice makes me hard.”
Wrapping her arms around my waist she replies, “I do believe it’s time for the kneeling fox.”
It’s amazing how quickly life can change. One day I was chugging along, pleased with the direction I was heading in. Then out of nowhere, I get wham-bam-thank-you-ma’ammed in the face and now live with Dion.
I wasn’t even awake yet when I heard him ordering the movers. Jesus, he was serious about this and I swear I tried to freak out about it and just…couldn’t.
Because I wanted this too.
Once he had the movers handled, he had personally checked on Tanya and offered her paid leave.
For a man who claimed he preferred not interacting with his employees, I was really proud of how he stepped up for Tanya.
While he was having lunch with Roger, I was en route to Pita’s place to get some answers.
I was done waiting for him to tell me what had him so upset. Dion’s advice was to let him work it out on his own but I didn’t operate that way. He was going to come clean even if I had to beat it out of him.
Okay, I wouldn’t actually beat him, but I could threaten him with it.
As not to scare the public, I put on a ball cap and sunglasses to hide my shiner. Snagging a coffee and a scone for the kid, I dialed him again only to get voicemail.
Tossing my phone, I drove even faster.
Pita’s place wasn’t in the best neighborhood, but it was what he could afford. And wanting the kid to have his independence, I didn’t point out it was a dump. Staring at it now, I’m thinking I should have stowed my guilt for the part I played in putting him here and moved his ass in with me. Storming up the steps, I make my way inside, climb the second flight and promptly begin banging on his door.
One of his roommates answered, took one look at me and tried slamming it in my face. Not happening.
Using my shoulder to force my way in, he backs away and whispers, “He doesn’t want to see you.”
Leaning into his space I whisper back, “Tough shit,” then toss him out of my way.
Peeking inside of Pita’s room, I do this carefully because if the kid isn’t decent I’ll probably vomit.
“Pita,” I say just above a whisper noticing his back was to the door. “It’s me.”
I saw him flinch but he refused to acknowledge me. “Pita, look at me.”
“Go away, Mercy.”
“This is going to go one of two ways, kid,” I warn him because every possible alarm was going off in my head. “My way or, my way.”
“I don’t want you here,” he says angrily.
Oh fuck this being nice shit. Yanking his covers down to his boxers startles him enough that he has no choice but to face me. “Fuck,” I whisper at seeing the damage. “Pita, what happened to you?”
“Street fight,” he says pulling his covers back in place.
“Don’t lie to me,” I warn him. Street fight, my ass. His face was worked over by a professional. “You’re not an MMA fighter.”
“You came over here to call me a pussy?”
“Nice mouth,” I chastise him. “I came over here because you don’t return my calls or texts. You didn’t show for work today and then I find your face beat to shit. I want answers, kid.”
“No can do,” he says rolling away. “Feel free to fire me, don’t much care.”
“Pita –” I press.
Slapping my hand away hard, he screams in my face, “I can take care of myself! Now get the fuck out!”
Backing away, I watched him roll over and shut me out. Closing his door behind me, I ignored the I told you so look from his roommate and drove back to the den. In that moment, I did not give a single shit it was a men’s only facility. I needed a drink and I needed it now. Slamming it back, I ordered another to take upstairs.
Why I was ordering at all was beyond me since my boyfriend owned the place. But I was so out of sorts that the least of my concerns was money. Back upstairs, I text Ember to see how she’s doing. I touch base with Dion letting him know I’m back and heading down to his office soon. My final message was to Pita and it simply said, I’m here if you need me, we’re a team, kid.
Mercy stepping back and encouraging my relationship with the kid was a big deal. She was beyond upset at how things went down with him yesterday so I hauled ass back here to help her through it.
The kid wasn’t handling the consequences of his actions well at all. He knew he fucked up, felt like shit about it, and I could see the guilt eating at him.
So, I was pleased when he agreed to let me pick him up to go out and get his suit. Our first stop was the bar at the den. Not that I condone serving minors, I don’t. However, the kid was going to fall apart if I didn’t do something. That something was bourbon. Reaching for his second, I push his hand down warning, “Easy, kid. Mercy will kill me if I get you drunk.”
“Liquid courage,” he mumbles looking away.
“I take it you’re needing some?”
“I’m used to people not giving a shit. Mercy…I don’t want to disappoint her. I want her to be proud of me.”
“What makes you think she isn’t?” I ask and when he frowns, I push further. “She showed up and got in your shit because she cares. Instead of coming clean with whatever the fuck happened, you lashed out at the one person who would take your word over Christ’s himself. You hurt her, kid. And owning up to that is what being a man is all about.”
“I want to tell her the truth. I just can’t risk her leaving me, not yet.”
&
nbsp; “Would you like to tell me?”
Giving me a set of weary eyes he mumbles, “Mercy first.”
“Whatever is weighing on that chest of yours, I’ll tell you this…there isn’t a God damn thing you could tell her that would make her love you less, let alone walk away.”
“What if she’s disappointed?”
“Look,” I say facing him. “You don’t have to tell me. You don’t trust me yet, I get it. However, sometimes we do shit that disappoints the people we love. That’s life, kid. That’s being human. If you earned her disappointment then you accept that and move past it. But remember this, one has nothing to do with the other.”
“What do you mean?”
Fuck, this kid has had it rough. Too rough. “You can be disappointed in someone and still love them more than life itself.”
“You think she loves me like that?”
Slapping him on the back, I promise him, “She may not run around saying it, but Mercy shows you how she feels in everything that she does.”
“Like letting me follow her around filming her.”
“About that,” I begin carefully. “You get the glory from that, not Mercy. She allows it because it makes you happy. But, kid, I am not going to lie. You filming her does not make me happy.”
“But she’s viral, she has over two million follows –”
“Every one of those videos puts her in danger.”
“But –”
“Man to man, I am asking you to stop putting the woman I love in danger. She won’t do it. Not if for a second she thinks it’ll hurt you. You’ve seen a lot of shit, kid. Imagine a punk, any punk, getting a wild hair up his ass thinking it would be epic to get the drop on her. Live on video. It puts a target on her back. Even superheroes have weaknesses and neither of us would survive a world without her in it.”
“I hear you, Dion,” he says softly and I knew he got it. “I won’t do it, again. I don’t need any more reasons for Mercy to be in danger because of me. Tonight, I’ll take them all down.”
Before I could ask what the fuck that meant the kid shut me out. I felt him trying to tell me something so as not to spook him I asked, “Ready to get your first suit?”