32
The unmistakable smell of antiseptic and the beeping of machines pulled me from sleep. Or was I still dreaming? I could’ve sworn Jason’s cologne mingled with the disinfectant. If that was the case, I wanted to stay asleep. Maybe he’d show up in my nocturnal fantasyland and carry me off into the happily ever after. But that wasn’t going to happen, the more awake I became, the more I remembered. Jason had left me.
Lowe had taken Delaney.
Shit, Delaney!
My eyes popped open and I searched for the damn button to call the nurse. I needed to check on Delaney.
“Easy, baby. Slow down before you rip your stitches.”
Baby?
My groggy vision started to clear, and the man sitting next to my bed came into focus. Nope, not a dream. The shock of seeing Jason was nearly as painful as the gunshot wound in my shoulder.
Ignoring my heart as it thundered in my chest, I asked, “Where’s your sister? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Thanks to you. My parents are downstairs with her.”
Thank God. Relief washed over me. “Her head’s okay? I mean, she doesn’t have a concussion?”
“No. A few bruises that will heal and a whole lotta scared. That part will take longer to get over.”
Damn.
Now that my worry about Delaney’s physical state was assuaged, I studied Jason. He looked horrible. Anguish and anger were clear. But there was something else lurking behind his eyes, trepidation, maybe. Whatever the look, I didn’t want to examine it too closely. It was too painful being near him.
“You should go be with your family.”
“No.”
“No? Really, Jason, they need you with them.”
“I need to be up here with you.”
What the hell was this? Perhaps the medication I’d clearly received, because I wasn’t in any pain, was causing me to hallucinate. Jason didn’t want to be anywhere near me. He’d made himself more than clear. Even after I’d pleaded with him to stay.
“Just go. Please. Honestly, you being here isn’t making anything better for me.”
“I need to talk to you. Explain a few things.”
“No, you don’t. You leaving me told me everything I needed to know.”
“Please, Mercy. Five minutes.”
“Funny, a few weeks ago, I remember asking you for the same. I begged you to hear me out. Let me explain. You refused and walked out the door. Your decision. Now it’s mine. I’m asking you to leave.”
“I fucked up.”
“You did.”
“I’m gonna make it right, Mercy.”
“You can’t. It’s too late.”
He stood and stared down at me. “It’s never too late. I’ll fix what I broke. I don’t care if I have to crawl back to you on my hands and knees. I will fix this,” he promised. He leaned forward and placed his warm lips on my forehead. “I love you so damn much. There hasn’t been a single night I haven’t laid awake and thought about you. How badly I’d screwed up. How much I missed you. I’m coming for you, Mercy James. One way or another I’m coming.”
He stood and made his way to the door. With his hand on the knob he turned back and looked at me. There was no sadness, only determination.
* * *
“If you ask me if I need another pillow one more time, I’m going to smother you with one of the three you’ve propped up behind me,” I grouched.
“Whatever. I’d like to see you try. You can’t even lift your arm high enough to swat a fly.”
Tuesday wasn’t wrong. The pain meds were wearing off, but I knew I’d fall asleep again as soon as the nurse gave me more and I wanted to visit with my best friend. She was better medicine than the pharmaceuticals anyway. I hadn’t told her about Jason’s visit. I knew what she’d say. She was a big ol’ softy and would tell me to hear him out. She was big on second chances. But not thirds. You had two chances with Tuesday before she tossed you out on your ass and locked the door behind you. She’d tell me that everyone screws up. Everyone says things they’re ashamed of and should be given a chance to make it right. I understood her point of view—I just didn’t agree.
“Thanks for being here,” I told her.
“Shut up. Like I’d be anywhere else. Now scoot your wide ass over and make room for me. This chair sucks.”
“I do not have a wide ass.”
“Well, you must, it’s taking up the whole damn bed.”
Her smile broke into laughter. After the day I’d had it felt good to laugh.
* * *
Tuesday had stayed all day. She’d sat with me when the police came in to speak with me. When the agent in charge of my division came in and put me on mandatory administrative leave. And she’d held me while I’d cried. I knew it was procedure but it stung knowing my creds and gun would be locked up. As far as the police were concerned it was a justified shooting. The DEA would follow suit and there would be no review board. My boss and his boss would go over the reports, as was protocol when an agent discharged their weapon, but there would be no repercussions as a result of taking Derek Lowe’s miserable life.
Tuesday was still hogging most of my hospital bed when a knock sounded. A glance at the clock told me it was after eleven. The nurses didn’t knock. It was after visiting hours, they were making an exception for Tuesday. Surely, they wouldn’t let Jason back here. Or would they? All it would take was one of his panty-melting smiles and a flash of his shield, and they’d pave the way for him.
Shit. I could feel Tuesday giving me the side-eye, wondering why I hadn’t asked the person behind the door to enter.
“Come in!” I finally yelled.
The door slowly opened and Delaney poked her head in.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had—”
“No. Wait. Come in.”
“I’ll come—”
“Delaney?” Tuesday asked and stood. “Hey, I’m Tuesday. Please come in.”
“I don’t want to bother you guys.” Delaney was still holding onto the door frame.
This was not the Delaney I knew. She’d never been shy or timid.
“Don’t be silly. We were just watching TV, and Mercy was trying to kick me out.”
“Yeah, because you were pushing me off my own bed.” I turned back to Delaney. “Please come in.”
She took a few steps into the room and stopped. Thankfully, the nurse had disconnected my IV a few hours ago leaving only a catheter in my hand, so I wouldn’t need to be stuck again. Other than the itchy tape holding it in place, the hep-lock was barely noticeable. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and waited, heeding the warning about getting up too quickly. Once I felt stable, I stood and padded over to Delaney.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she scolded.
“Neither should you. Yet here we are, two rebels.”
Her face didn’t budge at my attempt at a joke.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I called you for help, and you got hurt.”
“Come sit with me.”
I didn’t give her time to answer, I simply grabbed her hand and pulled her to the unmade hospital bed. The guilt she was feeling was normal, I felt it, too. I hadn’t protected Delaney from Lowe the way I’d intended. She’d still been hurt, and the angry purple and green bruising on her face was proof. But I’d tried the best I could, and she’d done the right thing calling me.
“What else is wrong?” I asked.
“Everything.”
“You know my shoulder will be fine. Besides I get two weeks paid vacation now.” Still nothing. Damn. “Seriously, Delaney, I’m fine. It’s the nature of my job. Not the first time I’ve been in a scuffle resulting in some black and blue marks and it won’t be my last. All of this.” I waved to my face then to hers. “Will be gone in a few weeks. But the emotional stuff won’t be if you let it fester. You need to get it all out.”
Delaney�
��s head dropped forward and she stared at the linoleum floor.
“I’m going to go find us some junk food. I have my cell if you think of something you’d like.” Tuesday being Tuesday, my kindhearted, intuitive friend, had picked up on Delaney’s need to talk. And she probably wouldn’t do that with her in the room.
I gave Tuesday a tight smile as she left. After a few minutes of silence, I knew Delaney wasn’t going to offer any information. I’d have to pull every last detail from her.
“You didn’t go to school today because you had a doctor’s appointment. Is everything okay?”
“It was.”
Was? We’d definitely come back to that.
“You made the right decision stopping at the bank. You couldn’t chance running out of gas. That was a smart choice.”
Jasper and Emily had both come to my room to try and thank me for helping Delaney. I wasn’t having any of their gratitude, I’d done what I’d done because it was the right thing to do. I admit, I made certain decisions because it was Delaney and I didn’t want her alone with Lowe. But I’d like to think I would’ve made the same plays had it been a stranger, but deep down, in my heart of hearts, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure.
“I should’ve called nine-one-one.”
“They wouldn’t have gotten to you in time. And if they had, there would’ve been a showdown in the parking lot and Lowe would’ve shot you.”
“So, instead he shot you. And beat you up.”
“In the shoulder. It’s nothing. I already told you, not the first time a bad guy has taken his desperation out on my face, won’t be the last. None of this is on you. Derek Lowe was a piece of shit drug dealer. All of this is his fault.”
Again, the silence stretched. Delaney picked at her oversized sweatshirt.
“What’s wrong? I know you’re upset I was hurt. But there’s something else.”
“If I tell you a secret, do you promise not to tell anyone? Not even Jason?”
Well, that was easy, I had no plans to talk to him again.
“Yes.”
“My doctor’s appointment today? It was with my OB.” Obstetrician? Oh, shit. I reached over and grabbed Delaney’s hand silently urging her to continue. “Twelve weeks. Everything was going perfectly.”
Was! There was that word again.
“Does Carter know?”
I assumed the baby was Carter’s. From what Jason had told me the two of them were it for each other. I couldn’t see Delaney running and having a one-night stand or even a relationship with anyone else while she was in love with Carter Lenox.
“No. He’s off on one of his secret missions.” She laughed with no humor. “This is what we do. He sneaks home, says goodbye to me, tells me all the reasons we can’t be together, then he runs off to places unknown, and I don’t hear from him until he comes home. Hell, sometimes he doesn’t even call to tell me he’s back. He just shows up at some family gathering, and that’s how I find out.”
None of that sounded good.
“That’s kinda fucked-up,” I noted.
“Kinda? It’s all kinds of screwed up. I’m fully aware our relationship isn’t ideal. Shit, that’s not even the right word. What I mean is, I know what I’m getting into when he comes over. I’ve been in love with him since I was sixteen. He was my first. My one and only. I know he loves me, God knows, he tells me enough. He’s never asked me to wait for him. I just can’t let him go. But maybe it’s time.”
“Why now?”
The tears that were brimming in her eyes finally fell and streamed down her cheeks. “He’ll never forgive me for losing his baby.”
“What? No!”
All her wases made sense. Fucking Derek Lowe. I wished I could go back in time and kick him in the balls a few more times for what he’d done to Delaney.
“If I would’ve listened to you and Jason in the first place and not followed Derek, none of this would’ve happened. He wouldn’t have wanted revenge.”
“Delaney, you’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing! There’s no way Carter will blame you for miscarrying.”
“You’re right. Because I’m never going to tell him. Carter’s told me a thousand times I deserve better than him. Better than waiting around for a call telling me he’s dead. I’ve never believed that. But he deserves a better woman, one that can keep his unborn child safe and—”
She couldn’t finish her statement through her sobs. I wrapped my arms around her, gritting through the pain of lifting my bad arm.
“Your shoulder,” she complained.
“Fuck my shoulder.”
I squeezed her tighter and as the pain radiated down my arm and threatened to steal my breath, I knew the anguish she was feeling was far worse than any gunshot wound ever could be.
Fucking Derek Lowe. Damn him to hell.
33
I knew Mercy was out of the hospital. I also knew Tuesday had taken her home and was staying with her. Mercy would likely get pissed at Tuesday when she found out her friend had texted me back after the fifteen messages I’d sent. But I couldn’t find it in myself to be anything other than grateful I had some line of information flowing.
Tuesday had started the conversation the way any good best friend would, she told me to fuck off. It had taken several messages explaining I knew I’d been wrong, taking responsibility, and groveling before she’d answered my questions about Mercy. The first few days when I’d asked how she was all I’d gotten back was, she’s fine. After day five she gave me a little more, telling me Mercy’d gone back to the doctor and everything was healing the way it should and she’d start physical therapy in another week.
I planned on being there for those appointments. When I’d told Tuesday as much, she’d laughed, or I assumed she did by the number of laughing emojis she’d sent along with a, good luck with that, pal. I’d like to think I didn’t need luck. I had unwavering love on my side, but the truth was I need it. A whole lotta luck, actually. Mercy hadn’t returned any of my calls or text messages. Once I’d filled her voicemail with enough I’m sorrys to fill the pages of War and Peace with liberal amounts of I was so wrong thrown in, I was left with only text messages as a way to communicate. Which was fine. She never answered, but she was reading them. Every morning I made sure she knew I was thinking about her and every night I told her my dreams would be filled with her in my arms. And that was the truth. Each night, I’d dreamt of her. There were no more nightmares about her being ripped from my life or dying in my arms. My sleep was peaceful. The two of us were together. Now if I could convince her to give me a second chance, I wouldn’t have to dream about it.
“Yo!” my dad called from my front door. “We’re here.”
“Kitchen,” I answered.
“What are you doing?” my mom asked when she and my dad came around the corner.
“Packing.”
“I see that. Why?”
“Sold the house.” My dad’s smile told me he was proud. My mom’s quick inhale told me she was shocked. “I got lucky. I was talking to Tito on the drive to the hospital. I mentioned that I wanted to dump this place. Don’t even remember why we were talking about it. I was a mess and he was trying to keep me occupied. Anyway, seems someone was looking out for me, because Tito’s aunt and uncle wanted to move down to Georgia from Maryland but they couldn’t find a place they liked in their price range. They liked the house, so I made it fit their budget. The inspection still has to go through, but they want it by the end of the month. I want to be out by this weekend.”
“This weekend? That’s in two days, Jason,” my mom noted.
“Yep.”
My dad had remained quiet, but I knew he understood. I couldn’t go after Mercy while still living in what he called a “pit of gloom.” It was time I unpacked my baggage before it cost me more than I was willing to pay.
“Why the rush?”
“A wise man once told me it was time to open the curtains and let the sun shine in. I can’t do that while living here. Ther
e are too many memories. Most of them are good. But the ones that are bad are crushing. It’s time to move on.”
Dad pulled my crying mom into his arms. She fit perfectly. After all these years and five kids later, they were still amazing together. They’d grown closer, their love was consuming, and my dad still looked at Emily Walker like she was going to be his last meal. And when my mom looked at my dad with her soft eyes and wonky smile, I knew she felt the same way. As a son, it grossed me out, as a man, there was nothing I wanted more.
Forever love.
I wanted that. By the grace of God, I’d found Mercy. Then I’d carelessly tossed the love she’d given me back in her face. All I needed was one more chance, and selling this house was the first step.
“What do you need from us, Bud.”
There it was, Dad offering to do anything I needed him to do to help me.
“I’m renting a one-bedroom apartment. I don’t need most of this crap anymore and I don’t want a storage unit. Mom, I was thinking you may know someone who’d want the furniture in the guest room. All I’m taking is my living room and bedroom.”
“Why are you renting? There are plenty—”
“Em, baby, he’s not planning on staying in the apartment for long.”
“Oh.” My mom directed one of her bright mom smiles in my direction. “Well, yeah, there are plenty of women at the shelter who could really use whatever you wanted to give.”
My mom and aunts all volunteered at a battered women’s shelter. I wanted my stuff to go to them. My dad, uncles, my cousins, Ethan, Nick, Carter, Jackson, and I all taught self-defense there as well.
“Great. Maybe Uncle Levi, Uncle—”
“You know everyone will help,” my dad cut me off. “When would you like them here?”
“Saturday morning?”
“We’ll be here,” he promised.
“I’ll bring your sisters and aunts over. We can get the stuff ready for the shelter and get the house clean.”
Finding Mercy: The Next Generation Page 16