Mercy: Second Chance Military Romance

by Abbi Hemp

“You’re living large for someone who recently got out of the military and isn’t working for a living.”

  “I saved money up,” I said, dropping my arms.

  “That’s what you told me.”

  I stepped forward and put my hand on her arm. She pulled away.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here and lecturing me about honesty.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s take that shower. We can talk about it later.”

  “I’m already clean. You so ruined my mood.”

  I took a deep breath, not taking my eyes off her beautiful face. She looked even hotter when angry, something I wasn’t sure was even possible.

  “Come on, Mercy.”

  “You’re not coming on, or in, anything tonight.”

  “Oh yeah? You’re not the only woman in the world.”

  Her lips pressed together tightly as she stared at me.

  “Are you saying you’re fucking me and other women at the same time?”

  “That’s not what I said at all, but you’re one to talk about sleeping with other people.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked, her voice getting louder.

  “Why don’t you tell me.”

  “Get the hell out of here, Tyler. You’re an asshole.”

  She stormed over to the door and flung it open.

  “Whatever,” I said. “Like I said…”

  “I heard what you said,” she yelled, pointing. “Now get the hell out.”

  As soon as I made it to the hallway, she slammed the door behind me. I walked back to the elevator, wondering what the hell had just happened. Should I go back and ask her about Roger?

  No, she would have told me if she wanted. The thought resonated with me as I took the elevator down to the first floor. In the lobby, I considered going back upstairs to find the housewife.

  Even if I had to knock on a few dozen doors, I would be able to find her eventually. And she would appreciate me and my body. Fuck you, Mercy, I thought as I went outside. I need a drink.

  Sitting at a bar a few blocks away from my apartment, nursing a drink, my phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket. Instead of Mercy’s, I saw the strange phone number of Aamir again.

  What now?

  I ignored the call. Maybe the problem would go away on its own.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Mercy

  After Tyler left, I grabbed my phone and sent Jennifer a text message, telling her to come over for drinks. She agreed immediately. I went to my bedroom and got dressed while waiting for her.

  What the hell was Tyler’s problem? I had gone out with Roger one time, but we hadn’t done anything. And even if we had, it was none of his damn business. It wasn’t like I was playing both men.

  I became angrier about the whole situation the more I thought about it. By the time Jennifer arrived half-an-hour later, I had myself worked up. She came in and closed the door behind her.

  “Where’s the wine?”

  “In here,” I said, walking toward the kitchen.

  She followed me as I retrieved a bottle of wine and opened it on the counter.

  “Grab some glasses?” I asked.

  “You’re not with Tyler tonight?”

  “Ugh. Don’t get me started.”

  “What did he do?” she asked, opening a cupboard to get the glasses.

  “I don’t even know to be honest. He came over demanding to the know the truth, but he didn’t come out and accuse me of anything.”

  “Did he find out about that Roger guy?”

  “I don’t know how he would. Unless Roger is talking to him again?”

  “If that was the case, I’d think Tyler would have said something.”

  “Right?”

  I poured us each a full glass of the mid-range quality red wine.

  “Here’s to a girls’ night out,” she said, lifting hers.

  “Or one staying in.”

  We both smiled and clinked the glasses together.

  “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Staying in to drink? Not at all. You have more wine, right?”

  “I always have more wine.”

  “They should let us drink more wine at work, like the French.”

  “Um, I don’t think the French go to work drunk.”

  “I read about it online,” she said.

  “Ooh. Speaking of online, you want to check out Roger?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  I headed into the living room with her following close behind. After grabbing my laptop, I joined her on the couch. She had poured herself another glass.

  “Okay,” I said, sitting down next to her. “Let’s see if we can get some Facebook stalking going on.”

  After a few minutes, I had signed in and located his profile page.

  “Wow,” she said. “He’s buff. Are you sure you want to pass him to me?”

  “He’s in shape, but he’s just not for me.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It has something to do with Tyler, doesn’t it?”

  I took a drink of wine, ignoring her question.

  “Anyway, I’m sure he’s fine,” she said, scrolling through his photos. “Aw, he has one of you and him in Afghanistan.”

  “What?” I leaned forward, peering at the screen. “I don’t remember that being taken.”

  “You had a lot on your mind at that time.”

  “Yeah, I guess…”

  I sat back as she browsed through his other photos.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “I’d go on a date with him,” she said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “I’ll give you his number right now,” I said. “Maybe it will get him off my back.”

  “As long as he gets me on my back,” she said.

  I laughed, pushing her gently before sitting up and grabbing my phone.

  “Here you go…”

  As I read off the digits of his phone number, she put them in her phone.

  “Put it on speakerphone,” I said as she dialed the number.

  “Hold on…”

  The phone rang. I felt like a girl in middle school making a prank call for the first time.

  “Hello, is Roger there?” Jennifer asked.

  “This is me. Who is this?”

  “Jennifer.”

  “Well, hello, Jennifer.”

  “I got your number from Mercy.”

  “Oh, you did, did you?”

  “Yeah. I told her you were hot.”

  “Did you know?”

  “I did,” she said then turned to look at me.

  “What can I do you for?”

  “I thought we could go out or something.”

  “Sure,” he said. “You doing anything tonight?”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yeah, tonight.”

  “Well…”

  “Let’s go grab a drink and see where it goes from there.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Great, Jennifer. You want me to pick you up?”

  I shook my head violently.

  “No, we can meet somewhere,” she said.

  “Alright. I’ll text you an address.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I’ll be the one with all the muscles.”

  Jennifer giggled like a schoolgirl.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen your photos online.”

  “Oh, you have, have you?”

  “Yeah. They were nice.”

  “Just nice, huh? You’ll change your tune when you see them in person.”

  “I bet I will,” she said.

  “Talk to you soon, Jennifer.”

  “Yeah…”

  She ended the call then twisted to face me.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Well what?”

  “You sure you don’t mind?”

  “Why would I give you the number if I minded?”

  “I
don’t know. You can be… too nice sometimes.”

  “That’s my problem, is it?”

  “I need to go get ready,” she said, standing up. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Not at all,” I said, nodding toward the bottle. “More wine for me.”

  “Thank you for this. I need to find a good man so bad.”

  “I hope he works out for you.”

  She waved and walked toward the door.

  “Call and let me know how it goes,” I said.

  “You know it.”

  After she left, closing the front door behind her, I sat back and took another drink of wine. My eyes moved to the laptop screen where I saw a large photo of Roger without a shirt.

  I thought about Tyler and Roger both for the next few minutes. Did I love or even like either of the men? No, I told myself. You’re fine alone for now. Concentrate on your career.

  As the night wore on, I found myself becoming more than a bit jealous of Jennifer going on a date with Roger. Why had I set up my best friend with him?

  With each passing minute, I became a bit more upset with Tyler and the games he was playing. Why should I tell him everything if he wasn’t telling me everything?

  The night stretched on forever with no call from him.

  I eventually went to bed, feeling more alone than ever before.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Mercy

  The next morning, waking alone, I missed Tyler. Why did he have such an effect on me? Had I made a mistake giving Jennifer Roger’s number? Was he the better man for me?

  As I dragged myself out of bed and through my morning routine, I wondered whether I should call Tyler or not. I decided against it and went to visit my father instead.

  I usually visited him at least one Saturday of the month, and I hadn’t done so yet in June. He lived in Staten Island, which would take me a while to get to in a train.

  The time I spent with him was worth it. Growing up, my father had also played the role of mother after my biological mother died. Whenever I felt stuck in life, I went to see him.

  Lately, I’d been bogged down quite a bit. Did I really need either man? Sure, Tyler could make me feel good in bed, but he kept secrets from me. And Roger.

  In the kitchen, eating toast and jam for breakfast, I wondered how him and Jennifer had gotten along. Had I made a mistake bringing those two together?

  I would talk to her before the weekend ended. In the meantime, I prepared myself mentally for visiting with my father. There was no telling what mood he would be in.

  Over the years, he had sacrificed so much to give me a chance to attend a decent university. My school loans were still not paid off, but I’d been sidetracked after stopping work as a freelance journalist.

  The editing gig paid reasonably well, about double the national poverty rate. Okay, it wasn’t much, which is why I ate a lot of toast and jam in the mornings. Fuck my life. I took another bite.

  * * *

  I found myself sitting across from my father at his round kitchen table. The leaf for the middle hadn’t been used in years. He stared at me with his disapproving eyes, never satisfied with me.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “That’s it. I can’t decide between two men. It’s an obvious choice, really. I don’t know why I’m telling you.”

  “Well, I have my mother hat on, but let me take that off a moment.”

  “Please don’t, Dad. How’s work going?”

  “Fine. I’ll be traveling again soon.”

  “I still don’t see how being a traveling salesman is your dream job.”

  “You’ve got a lot to learn about life, young lady.”

  “I’ve been places in the world, Dad. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

  “Thank God for that,” he said.

  I smiled, loving everything about him.

  “Now, let’s talk about these men. They are men, right? Not boys again? Who are they?”

  “I told you about Tyler and Roger both, Dad. Remember when I got back from Afghanistan?”

  “Yeah, that’s when your career went to shit and you went to work for those smut publishers!”

  “They publish romance novels, Dad. It’s not even like that.”

  He shook his head.

  “If your mother was around…”

  Both of us fell silent a few moments. I took another drink of his fresh squeezed lemonade. The bittersweet taste reminded me of childhood, back when my dreams seemed possible and nothing capable of standing in my way.

  “You haven’t even met either of them yet, but Tyler is the one for me.”

  “Roger sounded like a man who would keep you safe.”

  “Love is about more than that, Dad.”

  “If your mother were here, she would tell you that’s not true.”

  A wave of sadness washed over me as I saw my father’s pain exhibit itself on his face. I put my hand on his arm. He pulled it away.

  “You can’t keep using her death to beat yourself up, Dad. It’s not healthy.”

  “She died because of me. I’m going to carry that the rest of my life.”

  “It’s not like you were trained to be able to save her,” I said.

  He frowned and looked away. Sometimes I wondered if he was hiding a big secret from me, like I was adopted or something. The rest of the afternoon went okay, but I couldn’t wait to leave.

  * * *

  Later that evening, my phone rang. I grabbed it, thinking it might be Tyler, but I saw Roger’s name on my screen. What the hell? Is Jennifer okay?

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Mercy. What’s going on?”

  “Um, not much. Is Jennifer okay? Why are you calling?”

  “Jennifer was fine when she left this morning, although it hurt a bit to walk if you know what I mean.”

  He guffawed while I groaned internally.

  “That’s great, I think. Why are you calling?”

  “I wanted to thank you for hooking me up with her. Damn! She’s fine.”

  “No problem. Just be nice to her. Don’t fuck her over.”

  “I fucked her over, under, and around, if you know what I mean.”

  His laughed screeched through the phone again. I scrunched up my face, thankful he couldn’t see me.

  “That’s great. I’m going to go now, okay?”

  “Wait,” he said. “Hold on.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you do a story on me?”

  “Um, what kind of story? I don’t do journalism anymore.”

  “But you know people, right? You could submit it somewhere?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m opening a new security company, and I need to launch big, you know? Kinda like me.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  He chuckled.

  “Come on, now. Your friend must have told you.”

  “I haven’t talked to her yet.”

  “Well, she might not tell you, but it’s fucking huge.”

  “What’s huge?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Look, Roger, I should go…”

  “I mean the story, you dirty woman!”

  “Seriously, I need to go.”

  “Fine, but consider it, okay?”

  “Okay, I will.”

  “Thanks again.”

  “No problem. Bye.”

  I ended the call, not ready to deal with him any longer. My instincts about Tyler being the better man had been correct, but that did not necessarily mean him and I were meant for each other.

  He still hadn’t called me. Did he find someone else already? Self-doubt and worry tried to show their ugly faces in my thoughts, so I went outside for a walk to soak up the last rays of sun.

  Life would work itself out or it wouldn’t. I would keep working hard, but I had to stop sweating the small details like having a love life. As I walked around the neighborhood, Tyler kept popping up.

  Why can’t I get him out of my mind?

 
; TWENTY-THREE

  Tyler

  I looked across the bare, open office at Roger, still not sure what to think about his proposal.

  “Huh? What did I tell you? It’s fucking perfect, right?”

  “It’s nice,” I said. “And the location is good, but…”

  “But what?” he interrupted.

  “I’m not looking for a business partner right now.”

  “Bullshit, man. That money we made isn’t going to last forever.”

  “Hey, have you heard from anyone in Afghanistan recently?”

  “No, why?” he asked.

  “No reason,” I lied, wondering why Aamir had only called me.

  Was it all a setup of some sort? I shouldn’t trust Roger.

  “I’m telling you man, the time to strike is now. I got a few high-end clients lined up already.”

  “Like who?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “See, what kind of partnership can we have where you don’t tell me shit?”

  He took a deep breath, staring into my eyes a moment.

  “You know what, man. You’re right. I have to tell you something.”

  Uh oh. Here we go.

  “You remember that chick from Afghanistan I liked?”

  “Which one?”

  I grinned.

  “Fair enough. The journalist chick.”

  What the fuck?

  “Mercy?” I asked, feigning ignorance until I figured out what was going on.

  “Yeah, that’s her. I hooked up with her recently.”

  “Oh yeah? How recently?”

  “A few nights ago. Banged the fuck out of her, but she’s not for me. I don’t like the lip on her, if you know what I mean.”

  He laughed all by himself.

  “Anyway, I moved on to this friend of hers who fucks even better. I’m on a roll, I tell you. The next chick is going to be the best.”

  I shook my head. Had she actually fucked him? Harris hadn’t told me that about them, but I didn’t put it past him. She didn’t seem like the type of woman who would sleep with Roger, but how well did I know her? Not very.

  “She’s an uptight bitch,” Roger continued. “I don’t know what you saw in her over there in the Stan. On a positive note, this friend of hers is fucking intense in the sack. She sucked my dick about ten minutes after we met.”