Mercy: Second Chance Military Romance (12 page)

I smiled.

“I’ll send him your number. Is that cool?”

“Yeah,” she said.

If Roger and her hooked up or not, he would quit practically stalking me. All my thoughts connected to Tyler in one way or another. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t able to get him out of my mind.

“I should go,” she said.

“Yeah, me too. I’m on chapter thirty-two of editing this novel, and I need to get it finished today.”

“Good luck. I hope it’s not one of the long ones.”

“No. Only four more chapters to go, but this author can go on and on, dragging scenes out way too long.”

“Can’t be any worse that the one I’m editing right now.”

I took a step toward the break room door.

“You doing anything for lunch?” she asked.

“No, let’s go get something together.”

“Don’t send Roger my number yet. I want to think about it more.”

I raised my hand in recognition as I walked out and headed toward my desk for another day of work, helping other people with their written words. It didn’t bring me joy, but it paid the bills.

NINETEEN

Tyler

When I woke up and saw her gone, I wondered in the back of my mind why she hadn’t told me the truth about her and Roger the night before. I hadn’t mentioned it either. We had both been occupied.

As I drank a cup of coffee in the kitchen and attempted to wake up all the way, my phone rang. I thought it might be Mercy, so I grabbed it right away. I did not recognize the number.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Is this Tyler Anderson?” a man asked in a heavily accented tone.

“Maybe. Who is this?”

“It’s Aamir,” he said. “Do you not remember me?”

“Aamir, old friend. How have you been?”

“Not good, Tyler, not good at all.”

Another man’s voice suddenly piped up.

“You will come back here, Mr. Anderson, and finish what you started.”

“Who is this?”

“My name is not important. Aamir’s life will be spared because he got me in touch with you, but if you do not comply, I will burn this whole village to the ground.”

“What do I care?” I asked as nonchalantly and coldly as possible.

If he knew I cared about the people, he would be able to use them as leverage. If I pretended not to care, he might leave them alone.

“You care, Mr. Anderson. You forget what you have done in our country?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You are stealing our resources.”

“I’m not stealing anything,” I said. “By the way, this conversation is probably being recorded.”

“Do I sound like I care?” the man yelled.

“Who am I speaking with?”

“You will know my name soon enough. For now, understand you need to come back to Afghanistan and finish what you started.”

“Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Put Aamir back on the phone.”

“Beware, Mr. Anderson. We have eyes all around the world watching.”

The call ended. I put the phone in front of my face and stared at the screen, still unable to believe what had just happened. Did Roger have something to do with it?

If he did, it would explain why he had gotten with me out of nowhere a year after we both got out of the military when things were too hot to continue.

I pushed Afghanistan out of my mind, reliving some of the better moments from the night before. Unlike other women, I found myself still interested in Mercy.

After finishing my coffee, I left my apartment and walked a few blocks to the nearest Central Park entrance. Why hadn’t Mercy told me the truth?

I bounced the question around, unable to come up with an answer. Determined to confront her about it, I sent a text message in the early afternoon.

“Your place or mine tonight?”

“Start at my place ;)”

The winking smiley set off something in me. The more I thought about her not telling me about Roger, the angrier I became. Would she lie to me about other things?

Did lies of omission not count?

My thoughts went back and forth the rest of the afternoon as I ran some errands then returned to my apartment for a nap before going to meet her.

TWENTY

Tyler

By the time evening rolled around, I had myself worked up, ready to go off on her about not telling me everything. The closer I got to her apartment, the more upset I became.

Sure, she was a good lay, but I didn’t need a crazy woman in my life permanently. What the hell had I been thinking? I hit the buzzer for her apartment around six o’clock.

After confronting her, we would either fuck our brains out or I would leave and go get drunk on my own. She buzzed the door open right away. I opened it and went inside.

On the elevator ride up, an apparent housewife, her hair still in curlers, turned to smile at me. I smiled back and nodded in recognition, wishing she got off before me.

We stopped. The door slid open and she got out, glancing over her shoulder. I hit the button to close the door, ready to give Mercy a piece of my mind.

I had given her too much of my time already. If she didn’t come clean about everything, I would kick her out of my life. It was that fucking simple.

The elevator door slid open on her floor. I stepped out and headed toward her apartment. With each step, I prepared myself for the confrontation.

She wasn’t expecting me to ask her about Roger, which gave me an advantage in the coming battle of the sexes. I loved fucking her tight pussy, but I wasn’t about to let a woman walk all over me.

I rapped on the door three times. She opened it a few seconds later, a smile on her face. Her wet, curly hair made her look even more hot, not to mention the half-open robe exposing her soft cleavage.

“Hey, you’re early. Come in. I just got out of the shower.”

“Yeah, we need to talk,” I said, walking in and shutting the door behind me.

“Can you talk in the shower?” she teased, pressing her body against me.

I stepped away, a serious expression on my face.

“Uh oh,” she said, frowning. “What did I do?”

“I don’t know, Mercy. Did you do something?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “Or fail to mention something?”

“What’s this about?” she asked, looking straight into my eyes.

“Something you’re not telling me.”

“Oh, like those samples in Afghanistan Aamir asked you about? Or that whole smuggling thing that you were involved in? Not getting that story ruined my career. You know that, right?”

“You seem to be doing pretty good for yourself,” I said, glancing around her living room.

“Not as well as you it would seem,” she shot back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re living large for someone who recently got out of the military and isn’t working for a living.”

“I saved money up,” I said, dropping my arms.

“That’s what you told me.”

I stepped forward and put my hand on her arm. She pulled away.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here and lecturing me about honesty.”

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s take that shower. We can talk about it later.”

“I’m already clean. You so ruined my mood.”

I took a deep breath, not taking my eyes off her beautiful face. She looked even hotter when angry, something I wasn’t sure was even possible.

“Come on, Mercy.”

“You’re not coming on, or in, anything tonight.”

“Oh yeah? You’re not the only woman in the world.”

Her lips pressed together tightly as she stared at me.

“Are you saying you’re fucking me and other women at the same time?”

“That’s not what I said at all, but you’re one to talk about sleeping with other people.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked, her voice getting louder.

“Why don’t you tell me.”

“Get the hell out of here, Tyler. You’re an asshole.”

She stormed over to the door and flung it open.

“Whatever,” I said. “Like I said…”

“I heard what you said,” she yelled, pointing. “Now get the hell out.”

As soon as I made it to the hallway, she slammed the door behind me. I walked back to the elevator, wondering what the hell had just happened. Should I go back and ask her about Roger?

No, she would have told me if she wanted.
The thought resonated with me as I took the elevator down to the first floor. In the lobby, I considered going back upstairs to find the housewife.

Even if I had to knock on a few dozen doors, I would be able to find her eventually. And she would appreciate me and my body.
Fuck you, Mercy
, I thought as I went outside.
I need a drink
.

Sitting at a bar a few blocks away from my apartment, nursing a drink, my phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket. Instead of Mercy’s, I saw the strange phone number of Aamir again.

What now?

I ignored the call. Maybe the problem would go away on its own.

TWENTY-ONE

Mercy

After Tyler left, I grabbed my phone and sent Jennifer a text message, telling her to come over for drinks. She agreed immediately. I went to my bedroom and got dressed while waiting for her.

What the hell was Tyler’s problem? I had gone out with Roger one time, but we hadn’t done anything. And even if we had, it was none of his damn business. It wasn’t like I was playing both men.

I became angrier about the whole situation the more I thought about it. By the time Jennifer arrived half-an-hour later, I had myself worked up. She came in and closed the door behind her.

“Where’s the wine?”

“In here,” I said, walking toward the kitchen.

She followed me as I retrieved a bottle of wine and opened it on the counter.

“Grab some glasses?” I asked.

“You’re not with Tyler tonight?”

“Ugh. Don’t get me started.”

“What did he do?” she asked, opening a cupboard to get the glasses.

“I don’t even know to be honest. He came over demanding to the know the truth, but he didn’t come out and accuse me of anything.”

“Did he find out about that Roger guy?”

“I don’t know how he would. Unless Roger is talking to him again?”

“If that was the case, I’d think Tyler would have said something.”

“Right?”

I poured us each a full glass of the mid-range quality red wine.

“Here’s to a girls’ night out,” she said, lifting hers.

“Or one staying in.”

We both smiled and clinked the glasses together.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“Staying in to drink? Not at all. You have more wine, right?”

“I always have more wine.”

“They should let us drink more wine at work, like the French.”

“Um, I don’t think the French go to work drunk.”

“I read about it online,” she said.

“Ooh. Speaking of online, you want to check out Roger?”

“Yeah,” she said.

I headed into the living room with her following close behind. After grabbing my laptop, I joined her on the couch. She had poured herself another glass.

“Okay,” I said, sitting down next to her. “Let’s see if we can get some Facebook stalking going on.”

After a few minutes, I had signed in and located his profile page.

“Wow,” she said. “He’s buff. Are you sure you want to pass him to me?”

“He’s in shape, but he’s just not for me.”

“Really? Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“It has something to do with Tyler, doesn’t it?”

I took a drink of wine, ignoring her question.

“Anyway, I’m sure he’s fine,” she said, scrolling through his photos. “Aw, he has one of you and him in Afghanistan.”

“What?” I leaned forward, peering at the screen. “I don’t remember that being taken.”

“You had a lot on your mind at that time.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

I sat back as she browsed through his other photos.