Execution Style

by Lani Lynn Vale

  They both sat, but not before they each grabbed a beer from the fridge.

  We were at the apartment that I shared with Foster, although there hadn’t been much sharing lately. I’d spent nearly every night I had off at Mercy’s place, and only came here when I needed some more clothes. Slowly it was all being moved over. The only thing that remained now was the big stuff.

  “Shoot,” Trance said as he offered me a beer.

  I took it and twisted the cap off, folding the aluminum in on itself and tossing it into a can in the corner of the room.

  It bounced off the top, overflowing from the red coffee can since there was no room left in the already full canister.

  I watched it twist for a few seconds before it settled beside the others on the floor before continuing.

  “Mercy got a letter from her ex’s lawyer. Apparently, he left her a sizable amount of money in his will, as well as the house that his mother is currently residing in,” I said tiredly, pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers.

  They blinked.

  Trance was the one to come up with words first. “Is she going to take it?”

  I shook my head. “No. We’re going to go up there tomorrow. She says she’ll refuse it, and/or sign the waiver saying she doesn’t want it. It’ll then go to the next person in line, which is probably the mother.”

  Foster raised his brows. “I’d take that fucker. Fuck him. She deserves to have that house and all of his money. Fuck. Him.”

  Eloquent, but rightly said. I’d been of much the same opinion, but it wasn’t up to me, it was up to Mercy.

  “I tried to tell her that already, but she doesn’t want it. I’m going to be supportive of whatever she wants to do,” I said honestly.

  They both stared at me blankly.

  “And the baby? You know they’re going to ask. Hell, man, we said something and we’re your brothers. There’ll be talk about who the kid belongs to. You know that, right?” Foster finally added.

  I nodded in agreement. “We know that. It’s why we did it. They’ll speculate, but it’ll never be proved. That’s why we did what we did. She didn’t want to have that always hanging over her. Over the baby’s head. And I gave that to her.”

  They both stared at me hard before nodding. “Then we’ll support you. And my babies will have a new little cousin to play with,” Trance said, extending his hand.

  I took it with a smile. “Damn right they will.”

  Chapter 11

  If it’s hot, wet, sticky, and not yours…don’t touch it.

  -Note to self

  Miller

  I walked into the lawyer’s office with Mercy on my arm, worried that this was all a big mistake.

  Not only would she have to see the ex’s mother, but she’d have to see the father, too. The father that looked exactly like Mitch Moose. The father that had sent her into a panic the last time she’d seen him.

  “Alright,” the lawyer said once we entered the room. “We’re here to read Mitch Moose’s will. Everyone that is in this room has been mentioned in the will in some way, shape, or form. Are you all ready to proceed?”

  The mother glared in our direction when we sat down in the chairs to the right of the lawyer’s desk.

  The lawyer’s name was Ryan Monk, and he was an estate lawyer in Kilgore.

  He specialized in wills for one’s estate once they’d passed.

  Ryan started reading the will, and unsurprisingly, the majority of the ‘little things’ went to Mitch’s mother. However, then he got to the house.

  “The house has been left to Mercy Shepherd. As well as the house, she will get the entirety of Mitch’s life insurance policy, as well as his…”

  I didn’t hear the rest of what the lawyer said because Mitch’s mother went into a flurry of action.

  She tore the papers from the lawyer’s hands and threw them against the wall.

  I stood, placing myself in between Mercy and the crazy bitch, using my body as a shield.

  Raine, the crazy bitch’s ex-husband, stood too, pushing the woman to the corner of the room.

  I glanced at Mercy out of the corner of my eye, seeing that she was standing back from the desk, more towards the wall.

  I nodded at her, telling her to stay where she was at, and turned back to the mother just in time to see her push the ex-husband away.

  He fell to the ground, tripping over the expensive rug on the floor, and landed with a loud thump.

  Then the mother launched the lamp across the room in Mercy’s direction in the next moment.

  It missed her, but not before it caused the TV that was hanging on the wall to crash to the ground.

  Mercy leapt out of the way in time for it to smash to pieces at her feet, but she stumbled and fell, hitting her face on the corner of the desk.

  I was moving almost before she leapt, and was able to get to her the moment she fell completely to the floor.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the father move to detain the crazy bitch, and was grateful.

  The lawyer sat stunned behind his desk, looking at the entire thing like it was happening in someone else’s office.

  “Mercy,” I said urgently, looking into her eyes.

  She winced, lifting her hand to come to a rest right above her hairline.

  Blood started to seep between her fingers, causing my stomach to roll.

  “I’m okay,” she said softly, getting up to stand.

  But when she stood, her face flashed to a deathly white and she looked down in horror.

  I followed the movement of her eyes and stepped back in horror.

  Horror only because she was bleeding from between her legs, and badly.

  I scooped her up in my arms and started to run down the hall.

  The first thing I did was place her into her seat before buckling her in. The next thing I did was rip my t-shirt off and hand it to her. “Put it over the cut on your head,” I ordered.

  She complied gingerly, placing the t-shirt over her cut, and I walked around to my side of the car after closing her door softly.

  I was glad we’d taken the cruiser today, because I utilized the lights and sirens as I sped frantically to the hospital.

  Mercy’s jeans were saturated with red from the apex of her thighs all the way down to her knees in bright red blood.

  She was staring straight ahead of her, eyes locked on the road in front of us as I weaved in and out of traffic.

  Her hand that wasn’t covering the wound over her head, though, was still clutched tightly in mine.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she said softly.

  I looked over at her eyes to find them on me.

  My doubt must’ve shown on my face because her features softened. “It’s not over yet.”

  That was all she said until I pulled my cruiser into the emergency drive at the ER entrance, and rushed to her side.

  I scooped her up much like I had before, walking directly through the hospital doors.

  The people in the front room rushed around at seeing all the blood, and started taking her straight back to a room.

  “What’s her history?” The nurse who was the first one to us, asked.

  “She’s pregnant and took a hard fall. Her head hit the corner of the desk, and that’s how she got the head lac,” I told them, following them as they opened door after door.

  We finally made it to the back of the hospital where she led us into the room furthest to the right.

  “Is she allergic to anything?” The nurse asked as the doctor entered the room.

  “She can answer. And she is not allergic to anything,” Mercy said tiredly.

  “Sir, if you can leave the room while we perform the internal…” the doctor started to say, but Mercy started to fight.

  “No!” She screeched, pulling away from the nurse’s hands and into my chest.

  She practically crawled up my chest, and I looked at the d
octor who was staring at Mercy with not a little amount of concern.

  “She was raped six weeks ago,” I said softly. “She’s not comfortable with having a man do this. You’ll need to find a woman. Preferably one that’s small.”

  He nodded and left without another word, and a woman returned not long after with the name Dr. A. Abernathy embroidered on the breast pocket.

  “Hello,” the woman said softly. “I’m Dr. A. Can I see you now, dear?”

  Mercy turned her head so it was no longer buried under my chin, enabling her to see the sweet looking doctor.

  She was in her late twenties, and had long blonde hair that came down to her waist. It was pulled back in a low ponytail out of her face, allowing me to see her pretty blue eyes.

  Eyes that were filled with sadness and hurt.

  The nurse that was already in the room, gently took a hold of Mercy’s hand, and helped her onto the bed.

  “Do you want us to cut your pants off or let your husband take them off?” The nurse asked softly.

  “Husband,” she said softly.

  Something warmed inside of me at hearing those words.

  Moving slowly, I gestured towards the door. “Close it.”

  The doctor nodded and turned to close it, then kept her back turned to us.

  I slowly worked the pants down Mercy’s legs, shimmying them over her hips and down her legs with practiced ease.

  This felt nothing like it normally did.

  I was surprised to see that there wasn’t nearly as much blood as I’d once feared.

  The nurse, Aubrey, as her nametag read, held up a gown to cover her legs even before I thought to ask her to.

  I smiled at her gratefully, then turned so I could watch Mercy’s face to ascertain how she was doing. Which if the pale, blank look was anything to go by, wasn’t very good.

  “Mercy Me,” I said softly.

  She turned her face towards mine, and I leaned down to give her a small kiss.

  “Tell me what you’re thinkin’.” I demanded softly.

  She closed her eyes for a minute, and when she opened them again I saw her inner fire.

  “I’m gonna take that bitch’s house and kick her the fuck out. Then I’m gonna donate the place to the homeless shelter,” she growled.

  I blinked. Then I threw my head back and laughed.

  “That’s my girl,” I said through the tears of laughter. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  ***

  Mercy

  “I don’t want to be on bed rest,” I grumbled.

  Miller looked over at me with pity. “It’s only for the night.”

  I sneered at him.

  “That’s easy for you to say. You get to go to work. And you get to go take a shower. I still have blood all over me,” I replied. “My head doesn’t even hurt!”

  “I’ll wait to take a shower with you,” he teased.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Then I’d just be subjected to smelling your sweat on the sheets. No thank you.”

  He winked, then looked down at his phone on the bed between us when it started to vibrate.

  Mummy Calling.

  “Mummy?” I asked teasingly.

  He winked and pressed answer, then put it on speaker phone.

  “Mummy, how’s it shakin’?” Miller asked loudly.

  I shook my head and laid down on the pillow, watching Miller’s face as he spoke.

  “Miller Genuine, I got a call today from your brother telling me I’m going to be a grandmother again, and not by him. Does Foster have some floozy knocked up again?” His mother started in without preamble.

  Miller’s eyes scrunched closed, and a scar appeared that wasn’t normally visible right under his eye; it stretched across his cheek bone.

  I reached my hand out and traced the scar, causing him to open his eye as he replied to his mother.

  “Mom, Foster was never the father of that girl’s kid. He…”

  His mother didn’t wait for him to finish.

  “I’m not hearing this again. That kid is his. She said so. It looks just like him. I have a grandkid running around this town and I know it. Foster’s just too stupid and stubborn to admit it. I also don’t hear you denying that he knocked another floozy up,” she snapped.

  “Mother, Foster doesn’t have some girl knocked up. I do,” Miller said loudly.

  Silence.

  I took my finger away from the scar and stared at the phone like it was a live bomb about to go off.

  Then a surprised, excited squeal sounded from the phone, making us both laugh.

  “Micah! My baby’s having a baby!” His mother screeched.

  I closed my eyes and smiled.

  Thankful that I was still pregnant and witnessing this conversation under much different circumstances than I would’ve been if I’d miscarried like I’d thought was happening earlier.

  Turns out that the source of the bleeding hadn’t had anything at all to do with the baby, and everything to do with the fact that I’d managed to fall on a shard of glass. I was to follow up with my OB/GYN two days from now to have a more thorough exam, but from what they could tell, I was fine.

  I was on bed rest for a day because of the concussion I’d sustained when I’d hit my head.

  Whatever the reason, the baby was still snugly in my womb, and I was happy.

  I knew that this baby was Miller’s. From the bottom of my heart I knew it. So I chose to rejoice in the pregnancy, because any baby was a blessing from God.

  I just hoped my parents reacted the same way that Miller’s mother was still reacting.

  “Jesus, woman. We’re in the bar. Take it to the back if you want to yell about babies and bullshit,” A gruff, older man’s voice grumbled from further away.

  That must’ve been ‘Micah,’ Miller’s father.

  Miller yawned loudly. “Alright, ma. We’re heading to bed. It’s been a long goddamned day, and I have to be at work at four.”

  “Wait!” She shouted loudly. “Are you coming down for the family reunion next weekend?”

  He opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows at me in question as if to ask, ‘Well?’

  I nodded.

  That actually sounded like a lot of fun, and it’d be nice to get to spend more time with his family that he loved to talk so much about.

  “Yeah, ma. We’ll be there,” he said gruffly.

  I smiled at what she said next.

  “Great, I made us cool shirts!”

  With that she hung up before he could reply, and I laughed my ass off at the expression on his face.

  “What,” I said in between laughs. “You don’t like wearing matching shirts?”

  He shook his head. “Nope; at least not what she thinks as ‘cool shirts.’”

  I pulled his hand away from his chest, and into my own, tucking my chin against his big fist as we gazed into each other’s eyes.

  “I need to tell my parents tomorrow,” I said softly.

  He gave my hand a squeeze and closed his eyes. “We can do that after I get off around five. We’ll have them over for dinner. Sound okay?”

  I nodded, thankful that he wanted to do it with me.

  “My dad’s going to be pissed, and might not understand,” I said softly, still watching his face.

  He opened his eyes and smiled slowly. “Then I’ll make him understand.”

  ***

  I woke in the middle of the night to Miller’s hands cupping my breasts, and his big body pushed up behind me.

  His erection was poking me in the backside, and I wanted him.

  Badly.

  I should’ve never said ‘just once.’

  I’d jinxed myself by saying it, and now I didn’t know how to tell him I wanted more.

  As my eyes fell closed once again, I knew I’d have to find a way to convince him I wanted it.

  He wouldn’t do anything until I gave him the greenlight.
<
br />   My mind was on green. My heart was on green. However my mouth was on red. I’d never been the best with expressing my sexual desires, and even more so now.

  The one time I’d told a man what I wanted, he’d used it against me.

  And although I knew that Miller would never do that to me, I couldn’t make my mouth say the words.

  I’d have to show him.

  Hopefully he’d figure it out soon, because I couldn’t keep waking up to this. It was torture in and of itself. A special kind of torture, but still freakin’ torture.

  Chapter 12

  You don’t need to drive me crazy. I’m close enough to walk.

  -Coffee Cup

  Mercy

  I looked out the window at my dad and Miller, biting my lip with worry.

  “Just give him a chance to cool down, honey. It’ll be okay,” my mother said softly.

  I turned around on my couch, staring at my mother with trepidation.

  “I’ve never seen him so mad,” I whispered.

  She nodded.

  “Honey,” she said hesitantly. “How do you think it feels that he’s experiencing this? You’re our little girl. We never wished this for you. It never even went through our minds as a possibility when we thought about grandchildren.”

  “It’s Miller’s,” I said softly.

  Her worried eyes turned from the window, to me, and she smiled sadly.

  “I know you want it to be…”

  “It’s his,” I said firmly. “I know it with my heart and soul.”

  She looked at me, and then nodded. “Okay. Then what are we going to do about damage control? Everyone else isn’t going to be as easy to convince as we are. What are we going to do then?”

  I shook my head.

  I honestly didn’t know how this was going to turn out. If the day in the diner was any indication, it wouldn’t go over really well.

  That was the problem with living in such a small town. People thought they could butt into your business because they’ve known you since you were a baby.

  They didn’t care that they were butting in where they didn’t belong. They only cared about the next tid-bit of juicy gossip.