Page 29 of Shades of Mercy
“I don’t look at men and think they’re kind and sweet.” Jag chuckled. “I thought he walked a fine line. But he wouldn’t be the first person to cave inhiscareer. Law enforcement is tough and pressurized.”
“I guess.”
“Penny for your thoughts?” For the first time in a long time, he was truly enjoying a conversation with someone.
“Mateo planted a seed in my head about my partners at SMH.”
“What is the seed?”
“That Howie, or McKinley, could have gotten involved with Cross. Mateo thinks that was how Cross knew I was coming to the party.”
“Makes sense. Mateo has honed instincts.”
She sighed. “Wouldn’t I suspect something? See the red flags?”
“Not necessarily.” Jag shifted his body to get more comfortable. “When it comes down to it, we see what we want to see in the people we care for. Damn, Mercy. You could have been hurt, or worse. Going in there without the properbackupwas reckless.”
She hesitated before saying, “I could have been, but I wasn’t.”
“There are times when I wonder if you enjoy testing the waters.”
She yawned. “I’m getting sleepy.”
“Get some rest, Mercy.”
“Good night, Jag,” she slurred. “Thank you for being my bodyguard. I’ve always wanted one of those.”
He couldn’t tell if her words were sincere or mocking.
A few minutes later, her delicate snores told him she was asleep.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the shade lowered on the window. The storm started, and thunder vibrated the walls, reminding him of bombs exploding in the distance. Everything these days seemed to be compared to his time in the SEALs. Even now, a few years later, he felt like he had to be vigilant about every sound, every shadow, every movement. The training was embedded in him.
The sound of the rain hitting the roof soothed him some, but the change in barometric pressure caused a throbbing at his temples. Maybe the headache was partially due to the situation.
Mercy wasn’t just any case.
Not by a long shot.
He couldn’t deny that he had feelings for her. It wasn’t right that he did. Even if he could get over the fact that she was his best friend’s sister, he couldn’t be in a relationship. He was still adjusting to civilian life.
He lay there another half hour until he couldn’t lie still any longer.
Pushing off the bed, he quietly went to his bag, unzipped it, and took out the pack of cigarettes. It was a foul habit, but he guessed he could do a lot worse. He shook out one and stepped outside. He breathed in the fresh scent of rain and decided against smoking. He’d put too much effort into quitting to falter.
He opened the sleeve and dumped the contents onto the ground.
A car pulled into the quiet lot, and a man and woman climbed out, laughing and goofing off. Jag heard the woman say, “I can’t believe I can call you my hubby. I’m going to have sex with my husband tonight. It has a special ring to it, don’t you think?” She seemed very proud.
The man laughed. “I’m going to have sex with my wife.”
The two stepped up to the door, and he scooped his wife into his arms, carrying her across the threshold as they slammed the door behind them.
Jag felt an ache in the center of his chest. Not that he envied marriage, but what he did envy was the innocence of young folks. If only they had a glimpse of the dangerous world, would they be more cautious? Bitter? Like Jag.
He didn’t want to be bitter. He wanted happiness like everyone else, but he carried self-doubt. He rejected the notion that he could offer someone all his heart without feeling like he was giving away a part of himself.
He could hear Mercy saying as plain as day, “How could a man so brave be such a chicken?”
