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“How…how is it you all know this about me?”
“Fuck, Mercy, you’re killing us. Please don’t cry, honey.” I wipe at a tear.
She looks up, her eyes finally open and really seeing us standing in front of her.
I pull her over to the sofa and hold a hand out for her to sit on my lap. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until she takes my hand and glides that sweet ass over my lap. For a second I worried she would refuse.
Grant kneels in front of her, and Cain comes to sit beside me, moving her legs into his lap.
He fingers that wayward curl always slipping from any form of restraint and tucks it behind her ear. “You thought we didn’t care what happened to Jake’s little sister? To the girl that always greeted us with open arms and warm kisses every time we came home? Damn, girl, you’re the reason we made it through some hellish close calls in the first place.”
Grant leans over Mercy and grabs his wallet off the side table and pulls a worn piece of what looks like paper out, but it’s way more than that to the three of us.
He holds up a small four-by-three picture, creased from folding and unfolding, of her sitting on my lap, arms around my neck, Grant and Cain on either side. The world shone in her eyes that night.
We were out front next to the lake sitting around a huge bonfire, our sweet girl, us and Jake. I don’t remember what we were celebrating or if we were just hanging out like we did so many times. We’d already graduated high school and had a couple of years under our belt in college while on Uncle Sam’s payroll. Shit, come to think about it. I think that might have been the best day of my life up until now.
She pales a little in my arms, and I help her sit up a bit. She gingerly takes the photo and sees what we’ve known way before it was remotely acceptable—a whole lot more than just friendship in her eyes as she gazes over at Grant. We’ve all seen the same look in her eyes every time she looks at any of us. Only this time we caught it with a picture.
In the candid shot my arms are around her much like they are now and I’m leaning toward Cain saying something, and she’s sneaking a look at Grant with so much love it’s damn near tangible even all these years later.
She’s silent for a moment, and I can tell her anger has died and so has the sadness.
I take that back. I see a sadness in her eyes I hate to admit may never go away. But I see happiness there too. Maybe I’m seeing things, but I sure the hell hope I’m not. Selfish as that sounds.
“Who took this?” she whispers quietly. She runs her delicate fingers over our faces and then the younger version of herself. Probably thinking the same thing I am. Wishing she could turn back the time and do things differently.
Something tight and sharp in my chest lessens its hold when her muscles relax and she lets me hold her a little closer.
“Jake,” I answer. “He gave it to Grant the night we left here. He knew the deployment coming up for us would…be hard,” I finish, after a pause, not wanting to go into a lot of detail. The shit we’ve done for flag and country has taken its pound of flesh from each of us in different ways, but she doesn’t need to know the horrors we’ve lived to understand she’s the angel that will save our souls. From the looks on their faces, I’m pretty damn sure my buddies feel the same way I do right now—relieved she’s not fighting us anymore.
“We each made a copy and carry it everywhere we go.” Cain runs his hands up her leg and she reaches for him.
Seeing my buddy mold his lips around her knuckles and the smile it stirs from her has my dick getting hard. The only thing we’ve ever wanted is for Mercy to be happy.
“When I thought things were bad and I might not make it back, this picture gave me the strength to come home.” Grant taps the edge of the picture and her tiny fingers are shaking like a leaf.
“Me too,” I add.
“All of us,” Cain corrects. “All of us needed you.”
Grant wraps her fingers around the picture. “It brought us home. Now I want you to have it. To know you’re home too, and this is why you need to stay.” He taps the picture.
“Home,” she repeats like it’s some foreign word to her.
Grant leans over her. “Home. Right here with us. We’ve tracked you from Peru to Australia to Germany and Canada.” He takes her chin in hand. “I hope you got it out of your system, Mercy because you’re done running, sweetheart.”
“Really?” She sounds distinctly cocky all of a sudden, and I smirk, loving the defiance in our girl. She’s a fighter if nothing else. But she still doesn’t believe us. She wants to but her walls are built out of anger and that shit is tougher than a ton of cement. It’s going to take more than talking to break through it. Grant locks eyes with me over her head, and I know he’s thinking the same.
“Why are you telling me all this? It’s all too late. Nice to know, but too late.” She pauses and it seems she’s struggling with the way she’s tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “I have a flight in a couple of hours, and I need to get ready.”
She actually believes herself.
She takes a shaky breath.
“Since you have a hard time hearing, I think we need to go another route.” Cain takes her leg in hand and trails kisses up her thigh, stopping at the hem of her shorts. He moves between her legs, and we all catch the hitch in her breath and the moan on her lips.
“Open for him, baby,” I command softly when she turns her eyes up to mine. And I know she understands what I’m asking for is more than just her legs.
