Execution Style

by Lani Lynn Vale

  When she did, she visibly relaxed, all the tension that’d worked into her body the moment we announced ourselves dissipated, flowing out of her as if it’d never been.

  “Miller,” she breathed with relief. “Y’all scared me.”

  We could tell.

  Trance looked at the woman curiously, but Foster realized who she was just about the same time that I had.

  Foster had kept himself scarce while Mercy had been over at our place. However, he wasn’t deaf. He’d heard the conversation, courtesy of the shitty walls in the apartment. He’d also seen her while she was sleeping.

  Now, though, she looked pretty badass compared to her previous broken state at my apartment.

  “You look good, Mercy,” I said softly. “Whatcha shootin’?”

  I knew what she was shooting, but it was an ice breaker to get her to talk.

  My brothers took that as their cue to start setting up, and I sat my bag on the counter when I walked over to Mercy slowly.

  She really did look better.

  Dressed in her own clothes and shoes, with her hair washed and down, she looked like a totally different person.

  Even when I’d seen her yesterday, pressed up against the window…she looked like someone else. This Mercy looked like she was comfortable in her own skin. She looked like she’d never experienced the atrocity that’d happened to her yesterday.

  Mercy held out her gun for me to look at. A pink .38 that fit her small hand like a glove.

  “You come here often?” I asked, touching the pink grips with the tip of my finger.

  She nodded. “Every Monday. I thought it best to keep up my regular routine.”

  I could understand that. Routines were important to most normal people…but to people that were fucked up…routines were crucial.

  Something I knew all too well.

  “This is a good place to come. You want to shoot with us?” I asked.

  I expected her to say no, but she surprised the shit out of me by saying, “Yes.”

  She must’ve read the surprise written all over my face, because she laughed softly. “I’m out of bullets.”

  I smiled. “Lucky for you we have enough ammo to hold off a small siege.”

  She raised her hand and ran it up and down my arm. “Thank you, Miller.”

  I lifted my own and patted her hand. “Anytime, Mercy Me.”

  She grinned. “Mercy Me. I like it.”

  I raised my eyebrows at her. “Now, let’s see what you can do with a real gun.”

  She snorted as she followed me over to where my brothers were standing, guns on the counter in front of them.

  “Is it safe to walk the target out there?” Trance asked.

  Mercy giggled. “Sorry. I was a little…distracted.”

  Trance, nor Foster, said anything, but I could tell they wanted to. That just went to show they knew how to handle women.

  “Now, you may show me what the big boys play with,” she teased.

  I smiled wide at her. “Your wish is my command.”

  Foster snorted, and a smile played at Mercy’s lips as she tried her best not to comment.

  Although she was still slightly nervous, she started to come out of her shell when, not only me, but my brothers, started showing off their prized possessions.

  She shot nearly two clips out of each handgun that we’d taken to the range with us.

  By the time we were gathering up our belongings to head to the rifle range, Mercy had become comfortable around the three of us.

  It was when I was walking her to her car that she stopped and looked up at me.

  “Thank you for helping me, Miller,” she replied thankfully.

  I touched the tip of her nose with one of my fingers, eyes alight on the freckles she had dusted over her cheeks and nose. “That was all you, honey.”

  She smiled sadly at me. “No, it was not.”

  When she made a move to go to her car, I stopped her by taking a hold on her wrist.

  Her skin felt smooth beneath my work roughened palms, and her bones felt tiny.

  I could literally wrap my thumb and forefinger around her wrist with my thumb nearly touching my second knuckle.

  She looked back at me with a raised brow in question. “What?”

  I moved closer when I heard my brothers’ step out of the range behind us.

  “You really did do it on your own. I haven’t done a thing for you that you couldn’t have done for yourself. You’re an amazing woman, Mercy. Your coping skills amaze me,” I said truthfully.

  An embarrassed smile tilted up the corners of her lips. “You don’t even have the first clue, Miller. I’m not that girl. I just put on a good act.”

  With that she left, and I was left feeling that maybe I should check on her later in the day.

  At least to double check that she was all right.

  That was purely for her benefit…wasn’t it?

  Chapter 4

  Dad, you’ve always been like a father to me.

  -Coffee Mug

  Mercy

  Two days later

  There was a knock at the door, and I peeked my head out from under the blanket I was hiding under.

  Literally hiding.

  The only way I could sleep was if the lights were on, the TV was blaring, and the comforter covered me from head to foot.

  It’d taken a little getting used to, but I’d managed it. Especially when it was the only way I was able to sleep.

  Looking at the clock, I groaned, knowing it could only be two people.

  Nobody else would knock on the door at six thirty on a Wednesday morning.

  Maybe if I ignore it, they’ll go away.

  I sighed as the knocking continued.

  Throwing the covers off, I walked to the door.

  I guess I should’ve expected it. I’d been ignoring them for going on three days now. There was no way they’d let me ignore them forever.

  Not that I wanted to... I just didn’t know what to say to them.

  ‘I’m okay’ didn’t sound very good. They knew I wasn’t okay. ‘I’ll be alright,’ was closer to the truth, but hell, who knew when I’d be alright.

  Shoring up my defenses, I opened the door to my mother and father.

  My dad looked ready to beat the door down, and my mother was pulling out her keys getting ready to use them.

  “You know,” I said swinging the door wide. “Most normal people sleep at this time of day.”

  My dad snorted and pushed me aside to enter, but my mom stared at me.

  “If you were sleeping, I’d have not let him come. But we saw your lights on, and we all know that you sleep with all the lights off,” my mother tittered.

  Sometimes mothers thought they knew everything.

  Although she would’ve been right just four days ago.

  Then, I would’ve never had a light in the house on.

  Now, I couldn’t sleep without them all on.

  Which also let her know that I wasn’t ‘alright.’

  “That just goes to show that you don’t know me as well as you think you do. I was sleeping,” I teased.

  I hadn’t meant it to come out sounding so tired, but it had, and my father who’d been busying himself making coffee turned around to study me.

  My mother stopped until her feet were touching mine, and pulled me into her warm embrace.

  “I love you, baby,” she whispered fiercely. “If I could take your pain for you, I would.”

  She knew I needed her. That’s why she’d showed it like she did. How she knew, I didn’t know, but she did. It must’ve been mother’s intuition or some shit like that, but I broke. Right there in her arms, I broke.

  I let go of all the pain I’d been holding in for the last three days.

  I told her everything that’d happened.

  I told her how I couldn’t sleep with the lights off, because when I did all I could f
eel were his hands on me, violating me.

  And she listened.

  She did what any mother would do, and listened to everything I had to say.

  “Oh, baby,” she cried softly.

  My dad’s arms wrapped around me and my mother, pulling us into his strong embrace, causing me to cry harder.

  “It’s okay, baby girl. We’ll get through this,” he promised.

  I wasn’t so sure I believed him.

  I’d told myself the same thing over the past couple of days; yet, here I was, day three after the incident that I didn’t like to put a label on, and I was still barely functioning.

  I cried in my parent’s arms, much the same way I had that first day in Miller’s, grief pouring out of me.

  It was cleansing in a way.

  I was nowhere near better, but I felt like I could breathe.

  It’d been an altercation I’d been avoiding for a few days now, and I felt free to finally have it off my chest.

  After a long while, my dad finally pulled away from us, giving us both a kiss on the forehead, before he started puttering away in the kitchen.

  It was only when we smelled the bacon that my mom and I finally broke the embrace.

  But she did it only so she could cup my face.

  “I want you to know I’m here, honey. Day or night. You need me, I’ll be here,” she promised.

  “Alright, during the day I’ll call you. At night, though, I’ll probably just call daddy. He’s always up later than you are,” I teased.

  She frowned at me, giving me a narrow eyed look and said, “He’s not up much during the night anymore. Only if it’s something really bad, that is.”

  My daddy was the Fire Chief for Kilgore Fire Department.

  He was the big wig that got to sit behind a desk and ‘push papers’ so he said.

  He didn’t like it anywhere near as much as he had when he was an active duty firefighter, but it was safer for his heart.

  Daddy had had two heart attacks within the last four years, and he’d slowed down a lot because of them.

  He’d had to leave his high stress job, but luckily he’d still got to stay in the fire service. Most didn’t have that option.

  “Daddy, I want some pancakes,” I said as I walked into the kitchen hand in hand with my mother.

  My dad looked at me crossly over a bowl of batter. “You think I don’t know that?”

  I smiled.

  My father always knew how to make me feel better.

  His pancakes only got cooked when it was a special occasion, like Christmas or a birthday.

  He said they took too long. I really thought it was because he hated standing there flipping pancakes while everyone else ate without him.

  “Thanks, daddy.” I smiled, kissing him on the cheek before taking a seat at the table and waiting patiently.

  “Anything for you, baby girl. Anything,” he promised.

  ***

  “We’re really here to see if we need to cancel our cruise,” Mom said once we’d finished breakfast and they were heading to their prospective jobs.

  I shook my head. “Don’t you dare. Y’all deserve to go on that cruise. That’s been something y’all have wanted to do for years. It’ll be okay,” I promised.

  She frowned. “But you don’t have anybody else to talk to.”

  I didn’t necessarily agree with that.

  I had friends.

  “The guys at work will talk to me. Not to mention I have Memphis,” I explained.

  Memphis was my friend I’d met early last year. She was married to another police officer on the KPD.

  She frowned at me. “I guess so. I’d feel better if you had someone to call at a moment’s notice, though.”

  I thought about Miller then.

  Why couldn’t I get the man out of my head?

  What hold did he have over me?

  I shouldn’t be interested in the man that had firsthand knowledge of my rape and subsequent beating.

  But I was, and I did.

  I wanted him.

  I wanted to talk to him. To see him. To feel safe in his arms one again.

  But I couldn’t depend on him like that.

  I shouldn’t be ready to have another man in my life.

  “I also have that guy, you know, the one that saved me?” I asked my mother.

  My mother nodded. “The one that helped you that day. The big guy with all the tattoos.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, he said I could call him if I ever needed anything.”

  She studied my sincerity for a few moments before nodding her head. “Okay. But if you need us, I expect you to call us too. We’ll get the quickest flight home we can.”

  I nodded and gave her a kiss, and then she walked out the door in the next instant.

  My father stopped just on the outside of the door and turned, letting my mom go in front of him to the truck as he regarded me closely.

  “Call me if you need anything…okay baby?” He asked roughly.

  I put my hand up against his cheek. “Thank you, daddy.”

  He smiled sadly before turning his head to rub his bearded cheek against my hand. “You’re my baby girl. Even if you’re not really much of a baby anymore. I’ll always be here if you need me. Call me, day or night.”

  I nodded. “I will, daddy.”

  He looked better now than he had earlier, and I was thankful that the previous look was no longer in his eyes.

  I hated that he looked so defeated. So broken.

  If I could’ve kept this from him, I would’ve.

  It wasn’t good for him or his heart.

  I’d do anything to spare him the hurt I’d seen in his eyes earlier.

  I’d done a good job at convincing him I was all right, though.

  Hell, I’d even done a good job at convincing myself, too.

  When Miller had dropped me off, two mornings ago, thankfully to an empty street and an empty house, I’d gone about my usual routine.

  I’d done what I always did, which was check in with work, run a few errands, and then head to the shooting range.

  I’d had myself convinced that I was fine, but the ammo that usually took me over an hour to go through was gone within twenty minutes, and I’d about had a heart attack when I’d heard my name being called by Miller.

  Hell, but I’d almost shot him.

  My face still throbbed like crazy. My arms and legs hurt. My ribs ached. The only thing that didn’t ache was the one thing that everybody was so concerned about.

  On that thought, I made a beeline for the shower, jumping into it fully clothed.

  The cold water hit me like a slap in the face, and I was grateful for the rude awakening.

  I deserved everything I got and more.

  I was such a coward.

  A stupid, lying, horrible, coward.

  I’d asked for everything and more by saying what I had said that day, and I deserved the humiliation that was the outcome of that awful conversation.

  And the next day the depression had hit, the self-loathing. I hadn’t made it out of bed that day, and I’d had the same thing planned for today, too.

  Lucky for me, my parents didn’t care to wait any longer.

  A knock at the door had me turning to regard it with trepidation.

  Since my parents had just left, and the crew I worked with knew I didn’t want to be bothered, that left a very small group of people.

  Plus the mail wasn’t running today, seeing as it was a holiday, so that narrowed it down even more.

  I knew who it was, though, without even opening the door.

  The woman always had the ability to make my blood chill, and based on how I had shivers coursing down my spine, it had to be her.

  Looking through the peephole, I sighed when I saw Linda’s scowling face.

  Jesus, but the woman was such a heifer. In the twelve months I’d known the woman, there wasn’t a day
that went by that I could say that I was looking forward to having the woman as my mother in law.

  Reluctantly, I opened the door, trepidation making my hands shake. “Linda.”

  She glared at me for all of two seconds before she pulled a gun from her purse and fired it.

  It didn’t hit me. Well, it did, but it was water and not a bullet.

  It hit me in the face.

  Eyes wide in shock, I gasped at the woman.

  “What the ever-loving, fuck?” I yelled at the crazy bitch.

  Seriously?

  She brought a water gun that looked like a gun out, and shot me full in the face with water?

  The joke turned out to be on poor Linda, though.

  Mostly because of a two hundred and fifty pound pissed off alpha male hit Linda like a linebacker, and took her down to the ground at our feet.

  Miller had the stupid woman disarmed and pinned to the grass, face first, in less than ten seconds.

  “Holy crap,” I breathed as I took in the scene. “You just sacked my ex-to-be-mother in law!”

  That’s when I started laughing my ass off.

  Over the last year, there wasn’t a day that had gone by that I hadn’t wished she’d get her comeuppance one day.

  This had to be that day. The day she finally ate crow.

  Miller had her on her belly, the ‘fake’ gun tossed away like it was a rotten piece of meat, and then he cuffed her before standing up and giving her a disgusted look that spoke volumes.

  Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and called into what I assumed was the police station.

  “This is Miller Spurlock. Badge number 544934. I need a blue and white at 300 Moonshine Drive,” he said into his phone. “One suspect in custody.”

  “Thanks,” he grunted and hung up.

  Then he turned those annoyed baby blues on me with his sexy cleft chin and hard, square jaw.

  My God, but the man was sexy. But the thought of ever having sex again turned my blood to ice. Not because it didn’t sound appealing, but because it did sound appealing. With him. Extremely appealing. It sounded like something that I really, really wanted to do.

  And that was what made me a slut. I shouldn’t want that. Not with him, and certainly not so soon after I’d just been…taken advantage of. Fuck, but I couldn’t even say the word. What made me think I could be normal with someone like Miller?