Page 1 of Mercy
One
MERCY
Most men thinkI’m just a pretty girl. After all, a woman can’t be both pretty and intelligent. I roll my eyes, thinking about all the men that have underestimated me through the years. Maybe I am pretty, but there’s more to me, a lot more. I finished high school at sixteen and graduated with my master’s degree in Social Work at twenty-three. There are things I want, and I’m not afraid to go after them. One of them is Dr. Liam Lexington. I’ve spent seven long years wanting this man and I will get him.
I'm working my last shift at the On-Call Room, a bar owned by Dr. Xander Kane, a Pocono Children's Hospital doctor. Most of the patrons are doctors or women that are fascinated by the idea of snagging one. It’s comical to watch them throw themselves at these men. Normally, they get shot down. However, occasionally, one of them gets lucky. Although it’s never like what I read in romance novels. There’s never a happily ever after, just an orgasm or two, and then it’s over by morning light.
It's funny how people celebrate when someone leaves a job, but to commemorate my new position, the staff brought me cupcakes—delicious chocolate filled with whipped cream. I have spent the summer working here after graduating college. I bonded with several members of the staff nearly instantaneously. It's bittersweet knowing that it's almost over.
Standing behind the bar, stacking glasses on the shelf,hecomes in-my heart races, and my breath hitches, as I attempt to control my shaky hands. This is what he does to me, Dr. Liam Lexington makes me weak in the knees. He’s my best friend’s father, and I know I shouldn’t watch him the way I am for that reason alone. It’s been seven years since I saw him last prior to this summer. He hasn’t aged a day, his dark just fucked hair hangs to his collar, his emerald-green eyes with gold flecks have barely a wrinkle. He has his sleeves rolled up exposing his muscular forearms. And those hands. Holy fuck. How can hands be so sexy? I’ve seen him here a handful of times over the past few months, yet this is the first time our eyes have made contact. His heated gaze moves up and down my body as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.Do you want to play, Dr. Lexington?Picking up my cupcake I take a bite. I stick my finger into the middle of the cupcake, I scoop up the whipped cream as I lock my eyes on his, licking my finger to the tip. When I stick my finger in my mouth and suck off the remaining cream, he looks like he might explode. Liam and Xander sit in Maribel’s section. Damn lucky, Maribel. He glances at Xander and then back up at me, his gaze following my mouth. His tongue darts up and slowly slides across his bottom lip. Fuck. I’m going to come just watching him. My eyes travel down his body, and I’m delighted to notice his chest rising and falling faster than before.
Finally, customers sit in my section ending our eye-fucking. I walk over to the table, pasting a fake smile on my face.
“Good evening, I’m Mercy. I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Two beers, whatever’s on tap is fine,” the blond man says, both of them smile at me as if I’ll be, tonight’s meal. I get hit on all the time, they'll get nowhere with me, because I'm saving myself for the man at table eight. Only Liam. I can’t hide my smile as I walk away, glancing at the table I wanted. His eyes follow me as I walk back to the bar. We play this cat-and-mouse game the entire time he’s here. He’s tracking me with his stunning green orbs as if he’s waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. He probably doesn’t remember me, but I remember him. The last time I saw him was at his son Nash’s sixteenth birthday party before I went to college. I was captivated by him then, but I knew he would not get involved with a sixteen-year-old. It would have been an emphatic hell no. Besides, I’m sure my braces, thick glasses and under-developed body were not exactly a turn-on. So, I’ve bided my time, waiting, and the way he’s staring at me tonight, the time is about right. Just a little longer until I set my plan in motion. I need to be patient.He will be mine.
After several drinks, the object of my affection and Dr. Kane rise from their seats to leave. As Liam walks to the door, he glances back, his eyes gazing up and down my body before settling on my face one last time. Shaking his head as if trying to snap himself out of a trance, his lips form a tight line, and he turns, walking out the door. My breathing returns to normal after several minutes. Could he tell, what he did to me? I internally pat myself on the back for keeping my shit together while he was here or at least appearing to.
Mirabel walks up to me as I clean my last table. “What was that about?” she asks.
“What?” I glance up at her feigning confusion even though I know exactly what she’s referring to.
“Dr. Lexington, the way he stared at you, holy shit, I thought the place was going to catch on fire. Do you know him?” She fans herself dramatically.
I smile, “Not really.”
The topic of Liam and I are on a need-to-know basis and gossipy as fuck Mirabel does not need to know. I like her just fine, but I know anything I tell her is likely to be repeated to everyone in the bar which then will move across the street to the hospital which is not what I need right now.
“Oh girl, he wants more than to know you.”
I giggle, “Have a good night, Mirabel. I’m out.”
“You too, sweetie. I’m going to miss you.”
She pulls me into a hug, “I hope you’re going to visit.”
A smile creeps across my face, “A pack of wild horses couldn't keep me away.”
After gathering my things and counting down my register, I’m done working here. Tomorrow, I start my first day as a social worker, officially. Earlier today, I had orientation and a tour of the hospital. I’ve wanted to be a social worker since I was eleven, when a social worker came into my school on career day. When cancer snatched my little sister from me, I knew this is where I’d end up.
With trembling hands, I wipe a tear from my cheek, my heart is heavy as I try to keep it together. As a social worker, I know there's no time limit on grief, but it’s been nine years. I would have expected not to feel like this by now. Still, memories flash before me, us shopping together, goofing around, swimming in the pool, and then her in a hospital bed, dying. Pulling into my parking spot, I park the car, allowing the sorrow to consume me as it frequently does.
I crawl into the bed beside her frail body, pulling her into my arms. I’m as gentle as possible. She whispers, “I don’t want to leave you.” “Laney, I know, but you just worry about yourself. I’ll be okay. You’ll always be with me. Baby sister, you’ll never be gone, because you’re cemented in my heart.”
My mom looks on with tears streaming down her face.
“When you’re ready to go, you just go. I love you so much. You’ve been the best sister I could’ve ever dreamed of. Thank you.”
A tear falls from her hazel eyes that match mine to a T. Our eyes are why everyone always thinks we’re twins.
“I love you too. Always together. Even death can’t tear us apart,” she said.
That’s something we’ve said to each other since I was seven. But now, the words have never been truer. I pull her tighter as the tears fall relentlessly.
Those were her last words as she died in my arms. At fifteen, I lost my fourteen-year-old sister. And the pain has never subsided. It lives within me, a raging inferno in my heart, never to be extinguished.
Finally, I make it to my apartment and collapse on my bed. The tears I’ve cried have exhausted me, so I fall into a slumber.
