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Liquid Courage Page 6


  “I don’t want her to get hurt, Roger.”

  “I watched the videos,” he informs me. “If I look beyond what she means to you, you would see a capable woman who does not take unnecessary risks.”

  “She carries an arsenal on her tiny female body! Fuck, she’s Sherambo!”

  “You lost me.”

  “She-Rambo,” I repeat. “I made it one word, Christ. Never mind.”

  “Back to her arsenal. Has she ever used it?”

  “Roger…”

  “Has she? Answer me, Dion. Has Mercy ever seriously harmed anyone?”

  “Not to my knowledge, no.”

  “No,” he says gently. “She hasn’t. I can’t fault the woman for protecting herself, Dion. No more than I can fault you for how you feel. Hell, in this fucked up world, every woman should be armed regardless. This is one of those instances where I tell you, you can’t have your way and have Mercy too. Her career comes with danger just as her previous one did. For Mercy who lives life fearlessly, she cannot understand your concern for her safety. I assume you didn’t explain them to her. I also assume this ridiculous caveman behavior means you love her.”

  “Of course, I love her. I wouldn’t be losing my fucking mind right now if I didn’t.”

  “If you were away and someone broke into your home, wouldn’t you want her to have the tools necessary to defend herself? Wouldn’t you want her to have the knowledge to use them?”

  “Now you’re just showing off,” I mutter hating the thought of her in any kind of danger.

  “My biggest fear is something happening to Diane and not being there to protect her. My wife relies on me for protection. As if loving someone wasn’t complicated enough, I worry about her every time we’re apart.”

  “Roger…”

  “Mercy is not like my wife, Dion.”

  “You don’t think I should worry?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he argues. “What I’m saying is, you don’t have to worry as much.”

  “She hasn’t called or text.”

  “Nor should she. You walked away, she didn’t.”

  “She’s afraid of commitment.”

  “She’s smart,” he laughs. “With the way you keep shoving it down her throat, I’m afraid for her.”

  “Never been in love before, Roger so if you could cease with the fucking commentary, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Guess which video is my favorite?”

  “Fuck,” I groan because here it comes.

  “When she tackles the redhead, shoves the papers in her mouth and says you’ve been served, bitch.”

  I had to admit, when I saw her full body tackle that woman, it got me hard. The woman slapped Mercy, whacked her with her bag, spit on her and called her every name in the book. And she had stood there taking it until, the woman started to run. God, she was like a little wolf on a hunt and I loved that about her as much as I feared it.

  Because I could be honest with Roger, I admit, “Mine was when the cheating husband sent his dog after her and she fed it bacon.”

  “Mercy inspires loyalty,” Roger chuckles. “Apparently, even in canines.”

  “That dog turned on him quick, didn’t he?” I muse. The asshole had intended to let his dog attack a small woman for doing her job. But Mercy never even flinched. She got down on her knees, extended her palms and hand fed the dog. Then she gave him belly rubs and ear scratches. When the owner saw this and advanced on her, the dog attacked him with a ferocity that was terrifying. Mercy called the dog back, waited with it until animal rescue came and made them promise the dog would be placed in a good home.

  Mercy was a fixer.

  And I was a fucking idiot.

  “I noticed something else,” he says snapping me from my thoughts. “I’m no expert, but I’m certain the older videos were shot from a distance. Dion, I don’t think Mercy knew the kid was there. Because her videos since the kid came on the scene are much more tame. As if she goes out of her way to avoid conflict. She’s protective of him and I think you should consider that.”

  Firing up my computer, I started from past to present and I quickly realized Roger was right.

  It was obvious Pita used the zoom on the recently posted videos which dated back to almost two years ago. Skimming the rest, I realized Mercy only allowed him to come with her when she knew he’d be…safe.

  I also realized Pita knew of Mercy long before she knew of him.

  I was a nervous wreck.

  After a lot of alcohol and some minor soul searching, I came to the decision that Dion was at least partially right.

  But that didn’t mean telling Pita he couldn’t tag along anymore was going to be easy. I knew full well I was about to break my promise and the kid’s fragile heart.

  Right along with my own.

  He was the partner I never knew I wanted and oddly enough, needed.

  The kid had a way of balancing me out. Kept me from going too far. Because if he was there, his safety was my top priority, not getting paid.

  Sure, I only brought him out on jobs with little to no risk but, I only needed to watch one new video to see he had followed me and filmed me from a distance without permission. For two fucking years! And while I admire his tenacity, the fact is, he could have been hurt. I couldn’t bare for him to be hurt. This kid has never had much. It would be easy to give him all the things he’s never had. But life wasn’t about easy. It was about lessons.

  Fuck, it was about making mistakes, learning from them and becoming a semi-functioning grown up…

  Pacing my office, I nearly screamed when I turned to find Pita lounging on the sofa. “Hey, boss,” he says casually. “What’s got you fired up?”

  “About that,” I say jumping up on my desk. “You have me fired up, Pita. You haven’t taken the videos down as I requested.”

  “I’ve been busy,” he hedges.

  “Busy filming without me knowing!”

  “Shit,” he mumbles staring at his lap. “You figured it out.”

  “I didn’t know you were there! You could have been hurt!”

  “But I wasn’t.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  Closing his eyes, I watched his face soften and when he says, “I was thinking it’s a shame they don’t make comic books about you. I was thinking that you’re my real-life superhero and the world should know you exist,” I nearly cried.

  “Pita…”

  “Who knows I exist, Mercy? You, my boss, and a couple of buddies. The only one who would give a shit if something happened to me is about to tell me she wants me gone. Just like everyone else in my life. You’re right though, I am a pain in the ass…”

  “I don’t want you gone,” I rush out. “I want to hire you. Full time.”

  “You do?” he asks scratching his head. “What for? I already handle all your web stuff and I do it for free.”

  Think Mercy, think! Oh! “Research and screening.”

  “Did you just make that up?”

  “No, it’s a real thing.” I lie. “I’m busy in the field and know for a fact, I lose jobs because I don’t have time to screen the caller. If I’m considering a job it requires research and when I’m slammed, I tend to overlook things I shouldn’t.”

  “So, you want to hire me for background work?”

  “Yes.”

  “That I could do anywhere? But you want me to do it here and you’ll pay me?”

  “Uh huh.”

  I could see his wheels turning and when he asked, “Will you hook me up with Ember?”

  “No,” was my answer.

  “Will you take me out in the field at least once a month?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Will you teach me some moves every Thursday?”

  “Why Thursday?”

  “Preps me for the weekend.”

  “That’s reasonable,” I admit. “So yes.”

  “One last thing,” he says eyeing me. “How much does it pay?”

  “How much d
id the liquor store pay?”

  “Minimum wage which equals shit.”

  “I’ll double it.”

  Blinking at me, he takes one step toward me, then another until he was towering over me. The kid really had no idea how big he was. The day he did, look out…

  “You mean that?”

  “Didn’t I just say it?”

  And then I was off the floor because Pita was swinging me in a circle.

  I’d never admit it out loud, but Pita was a great hugger. He used just the right amount of strength and body coverage. When he hugged you, he did it with everything he had.

  “Hey kid,” Ember says from the door. “Did you grow?”

  “Six inches since you walked in,” he winks causing Ember to laugh and me to slap him upside the head.

  “Ow,” he says pouting. “You’re way too strong for a midget.”

  “I am not a midget,” I argue. “I’m compact.”

  “Freakishly strong too.”

  “I see our first lesson on Thursday is about respecting women.”

  “Ember brings out the man in me,” he smirks again. “Believe me, I totally respect that.”

  “Ember would have you sucking your thumb in a corner.”

  “Sounds hot.”

  “You start tomorrow,” I couldn’t help but grin. The kid was funny.

  “Mercy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for… just thanks.”

  I was feeling emotional when Pita was walking out and Dion walked in. Giving each other the mandatory man hug, Pita tells him he’s now officially a P.I.T.A and he’s on payroll. Congratulating him, he enters my office closing the door behind him. His eyes on me may have had my stomach fluttering but fuck if I was telling him that.

  Avoiding his gaze, I ask, “What’s minimum wage in Michigan?”

  “A little less than nine bucks an hour.”

  “Fuck,” I groan to the ceiling then shriek, “Pita!”

  Yelling from the front of the store he says, “No take backs! See you tomorrow, Boss!”

  “We’re enabling him,” Ember shouts.

  “I am such a sucker!” I groan hiding my face in my hands.

  “How much are you paying him?” Dion asks stepping fully into my office.

  “Uh almost eighteen dollars an hour.”

  “To make you proud, that kid’ll earn it.”

  Looking up at Dion, taking in how perfectly made he was to wear suits, I need to know, “What are you doing here?”

  “Gave you space,” he says crowding me which was the complete opposite of giving me space. “Even gave you time to come to me. My patience ends now.”

  “Does it? Because you ordered it, it will be done?”

  “Test me, Mercy.”

  “What the fuck, Dion?” At his silence I repeat, “Seriously, what the fuck?”

  “I made a mistake,” he whispers against my cheek. “I came back to fix it.”

  “It means a lot to me that you’d even try,” I say sincerely. “But I won’t quit my job, Dion.”

  “I understand that,” he says kissing my neck. “Which is why I’ll be working with you.”

  “Last time I checked, you have a den to run. Oh, and you have no credentials or training. So, you can’t just work with me because you’re not licensed.”

  “So, I’ll get training. And the den is covered, I stop in to check on things once a month, if that. You need to know that I stayed because of you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” he smiles. “And I don’t need the badge, I’m fine being your apprentice. Like the kid is.”

  “Uh,” I sputter because shit, he had me there.

  “I want an ear piece, every type of communication device my money can buy, a bullet proof vest, taser, and night vision goggles.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Oh, was there something you wanted?”

  “Dion, it won’t work –”

  “Calendar’s open, Mercy, when do I start?”

  “What was the mistake you came to fix?” I ask. “Be specific.”

  “I had no right throwing the kid in your face like that. You would fight an army for him and I let my worry for you overshadow your worry for him. I knew by the look on your face, I made you doubt yourself and for that, I’m sorry.”

  “You walked away,” I whisper.

  “Mercy, fuck— I’m even sorrier for that. But, I came back.”

  And that’s when I saw red. “Don’t ever use Mercy and Fuck back to back.”

  “What?”

  “I mean it, Dion. That’s a relationship ruiner for me. I stalk the author and five star all of her books, especially that one but I’m no statistic.”

  “You lost me…”

  “It happens,” I shrug. “But for the sake of argument, Mercy Fuck is a romance book where the heroine overhears –”

  “Did you hear the part where I said I came back? For you.”

  “Dion, come on. You can’t just walk in here –”

  “Still going to test me?”

  “Would you listen –”

  “Decide.”

  “Shh, I’m thinking.”

  “Can you think over here in my arms?” he challenges widening his stance.

  With a smirk on my face, I dramatically stomp over to him throwing myself into his embrace.

  Running my hands up and down his back I ask, “Dion?”

  “Hmm?”

  “If we’re going to be partners, we’ll need to discuss your wardrobe.”

  “What’s wrong with my suit?” he asks affronted. “I look very professional.”

  “Actually,” I say biting my lip. “You look like a pimp.”

  And with that, he scooped me up, laughing all the way over to my sofa where he proceeded to kiss the hell out of me.

  Yesterday, I left her office smiling like an idiot.

  And ten hours later, I still couldn’t stop.

  Because I backed Mercy into a corner and she gave in.

  Now I would be with her constantly and would use that time to break down the rest of her walls. There was a reason she was determined to resist me and I needed to know what it was. Fuck knows, I found her irresistible and the proof in that was me taking an indefinite leave to see that it happens.

  Mercy was it for me.

  But something was holding her back from me being it for her.

  I was finalizing last minute tasks when I saw she was calling.

  And yes, I was still fucking smiling.

  “Miss me already?”

  “Is this Dion Fox?”

  Instantly on alert, I respond with, “Who the fuck is this and why do you have her phone?”

  “I’m Mercy’s doctor and I was calling because your number was the most recent in her log. And since she has no emergency contacts on file, I was hoping you’d be willing to pick her up, being that she’s in no shape to travel alone.”

  “Doctor? She’s hurt? What happened?” Jesus Christ, I could feel my blood pressure rising.

  “Dentist,” he clarifies. “And she isn’t hurt, she’s just…”

  “Text me the address,” I say grabbing my coat. “I’m on my way.”

  A million scenarios ran through my mind and none of them were good. Roger warned me that falling in love made you paranoid. I was so worked up that I convinced myself half her face was probably missing when I walked through the door. “You must be Dion,” the woman says showing me to the back.

  “Is she okay?”

  “Mercy is fine,” she assures me. Opening the door, keeping me from her, the woman says, “She’s just…stoned.”

  “This happen a lot?” I ask because Mercy was currently trying to grope her dentist.

  “Only twice a year,” she smiles leaving me to it.

  “Mercy,” the dentist says. “There’s someone here to see you.”

  Whipping around in her chair, her eyes go wide, she smiles (and I didn’t care it was lopsided) and squeals, �
��Ion!”

  “Miss me?” I ask pulling a chair over.

  “Fo uch,” she says with tears in her eyes.

  “She said so much,” he clarifies.

  “What kind of surgery did she have?” I question at the same time she exits the chair to crawl into my lap.

  “Surgery? No surgery. She had her teeth cleaned.”

  “What in the hell did you give her?”

  “The standard amount of nitrous oxide unaware she’d taken enough Xanax to erase an elephant’s memory.”

  “She took pills for a cleaning?”

  Tapping my shoulder to get my attention she says, “errified uff da tentist,” while pointing at her mouth.

  “Dental anxiety is common,” he says calmly. “Her level of anxiety is not. She went through a traumatic experience at a young age and over the years it’s progressed.”

  “She’s drooling,” I point out. “I’d say it’s progressed.”

  “Mercy has come a long way since her first visit here, Mr. Fox. We’re all quite proud of her. Do you know she only has four fillings?”

  “That’s something,” I mumble wondering what the fuck had her so terrified she’d need to self-medicate.

  “And she comes to her cleanings faithfully twice a year.”

  How the woman in my arms currently sliding her hands under my shirt managed to put her fear aside to come here is beyond me. But that was Mercy for you. Nothing held her back.

  “How did she plan to get home if she didn’t drive?”

  “She tried calling an Uber,” he says carefully. “With my phone.”

  “I see –”

  “That she snuck out of my pocket during her fluoride treatment.”

  Chuckling, I kiss her forehead and tell him, “Thanks for calling me.”

  “Oh, and that’s why she’s drooling.”

  “Come again?”

  “From the treatment.”

  “Got it,” I say positioning her to straddle me. “You with me, Mercy?”

  “Yeff,” she nods.

  “Going to carry you out, I need you to hold on tight.”

  Leaning back so she could address the room she says, “Heef biff in trong.”

  “He sure is big and strong,” the woman from the lobby winks at me.