Have Mercy

by Christina Lee

  “Here it is,” I said as we came upon a decent-sized natural pond that George and I had reinforced with a new filtration system as well as clay walls so it wouldn’t cave in. “Told you we had our very own.”

  The truth was, the pond was originally part of the ranch, but when I took over my acres of land, I wanted this included in the deal. It was my pond in a way, the place I would wander off to think. And Mom helped convince Dad it was a fair idea, not that he cared about some random pond on his property. But at that point he was being stubborn about everything.

  The ranch property line was just beyond the three large cottonwood trees behind us and acted like a barrier of sorts. Or at least I saw it that way—the division between their land and mine. And I had become fiercely protective of it, much like I had my own heart where my family was concerned.

  When it got unbearably hot, we came here with Ainsley to cool off in the water, and as soon as we got off the ATVs, that was exactly what we did—toed off our boots and dangled our feet in the water.

  “Damn, that feels good,” Julian said. “It’s not the Hamptons or the ocean, but so what? I love it.”

  I laughed. “There’s also not a crowd of strangers around us.”

  “No argument there.” He splashed some water with his hand. “You should be proud too—of the farm. It’s pretty here.”

  I nodded. “I’m perfectly fine growing old here.”

  He stared at me, like he hadn’t considered such a proposition. He looked a bit melancholy but also sort of nostalgic, and I couldn’t imagine what he could possibly be thinking.

  “What happens as you and Sienna go forward?” he asked, then seemed to reconsider his question. “I don’t want to overstep.”

  “No, it’s okay. Good question.” I pulled my feet from the water and moved back from the edge. Julian followed suit. “I don’t think either of us knows the answer, and we haven’t discussed it. It’s never really come up. But if she met someone or wanted out, we’d figure it out.”

  “And if you did?”

  “This is land I inherited from my family. I don’t want out.”

  He gave me a pointed look. “I meant if you met someone.”

  “That won’t happen,” I said without any forethought. It was something I’d never allowed myself to consider, other than this short-lived daydream with Julian.

  He scoffed. “Why can’t you aspire to more?”

  My gaze shot toward the fence dividing us from the ranch. “Not sure how that would go over.”

  “But this is your life to live. Shouldn’t you make it your own?” he said with a good amount of conviction. “You already pissed off your family, so why not go all the way?”

  I laughed, then sobered as our eyes met and held.

  Even on my farm we were still in the open, even though my property was considered the outskirts of the ranch. Anyone could stand on one of the higher ridges and spot us from a distance. But I also desperately wanted to throw caution to the wind. It was one of many reasons I’d wanted us to get away.

  “Julian.” I reached for him, and he crushed our lips together. It was a frenzy of tongues and hands and mouths as we wrenched zippers open and shoved hands down pants.

  I drew back, attempting to rein in my breaths, and hovered above him, wondering if I’d ever seen anyone sexier lying in the grass beneath the looming tree branches.

  “Please.” He yanked on my arms. “Wanna feel you on top of me.”

  When I sank down, he sighed, as if the pressure of my weight against him was everything he needed. I took his mouth as I drove my groin against his, and feeling our bodies aligned like this was un-fucking-believable. We weren’t naked, but it was close enough, maybe the closest we’d ever get, so I wanted to savor it, savor him.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” Julian said, cupping my ass and thrusting upward.

  “You feel so good,” I moaned against his lips as I skated toward the edge. “Already close.”

  “Me too.” Julian circled his hand around both our cocks, and the friction from our shafts rubbing together was my undoing. I had never been so turned-on in my life.

  “Right there. Right fucking there. Oh God, yes.” I buried my cries in his shoulder as I came, my jizz hitting his stomach and mixing with his own as he shuddered beneath me.

  Afterward, we lay quietly, lazily kissing and catching our breath. I didn’t want to move for anything, but I knew being out in the open like this wasn’t the best idea either.

  “Let’s clean up,” I said, finally lifting my head and quickly surveying our surroundings.

  “Just a minute more,” he said and pulled me down again for a slow, toe-curling kiss, and fuck, was there anything better than Julian North’s tongue in my mouth?

  We were just straightening our clothes and tucking ourselves back in when there was a pop of gunfire. My head snapped toward the ranch. What in the hell? When there were more shots with short pauses in between, I wondered if someone was in the middle of target practice. It would be one of the only reasons a gun would be firing on my father’s ranch, something he frowned upon, especially close to the pastures, which might’ve caused a stampede.

  When I glanced back at Julian, I gasped. He was crouched on the ground with his arms shielding his head. Holy shit.

  He was rocking and softly swearing to himself, his shirt soaked with sweat. And it was fucking heartbreaking to witness. The gunfire seemed to have abated, at least momentarily, and I approached Julian carefully. I didn’t want to startle him, but I also knew that he was having one of his episodes—one much worse than the couple I’d witnessed before—and he needed something or someone to help get him through it.

  “No, they can’t be. They’re gone. They’re just…gone,” he was saying over and over in a broken voice that clawed at my insides. As I squatted down beside him, I realized this might’ve been his nightmare come to life. Had he gone back in time to directly after the roadside bomb?

  I froze, my entire body tingling with awareness as I tried to picture what he was seeing in his mind’s eye. And based on his reaction and the story he’d shared, it was devastating.

  “Julian.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat, trying to keep my voice level. “Hey, it’s Kerry Carmichael, and you’re in Wyoming at Firefly Farm.” I tentatively touched his knee with the tips of my fingers, hoping to be a buffer between his living nightmare and reality. “We rode out to the pond on the four-wheelers.”

  He grew very still, as if listening to me and trying to make sense of what he was hearing. So I continued talking, hoping to ground him in our surroundings.

  “There was some gunfire coming from the ranch, but everything is okay, I promise,” I said with a degree of certainty even though I wasn’t able to investigate the source. “You’re not hurt, and nobody else is either.”

  There was a drawn-out moment of silence as he focused on me, blinking rapidly.

  “Kerry?” he whispered, bringing his arms down to his sides and squinting into the sunlight.

  “It’s me,” I said in a wrecked voice because it was torture seeing him this way. “And everything’s gonna be fine.”

  Suddenly he launched himself into my arms and burst into tears. He wept against my shoulder, my shirt drenched with tears, his body trembling from head to toe.

  “That’s it, let it all out,” I murmured against his head. “It’s okay. You’re safe with me.”

  “I was so goddamned scared,” he said between sobs, and at first I thought he was referring to the pops of gunfire. But soon enough I realized he was referring to the incident. “I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t fucking save them.”

  “Shh, I know,” I replied in a soothing tone, my own voice quavering as I rubbed gentle circles between his shoulder blades.

  “They’ll never see their families again.” He shuddered. “And Arash’s mom. The way she sounded when she realized… I’ll never forget it.” More tears leaked out, and I reached my thumb up to swipe beneath his ey
es. “They loaded me on the stretcher, but I wanted to go to them, even though there…there was nothing left. I…I struggled for a minute before I looked down and saw all the blood on me. That was when I remembered I was hurt too.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Can’t help thinking it should’ve been me. Should’ve been me…”

  “No, Julian.” My voice was hoarse as I imagined never getting this moment with him. “No.”

  Damn. Survivor’s guilt had to be so fucking overwhelming. I swallowed back my own urge to cry as I wrapped my arms tighter around him.

  “Shh…” I held him for a couple of long minutes as his tears eventually stopped and his breaths evened out. He finally drew back, clearing his throat as his cheeks flushed a rosy pink, embarrassment beginning to creep in.

  “Don’t. I’m glad I was here.” I swept his bangs away from his forehead. “Thank you for trusting me enough.”

  At the sound of a gasp from near the fence line, my head snapped up.

  “What in the hell?” Hunter said, gaze moving between me and Julian, who was slowly standing up, still in a daze.

  Hunter was carrying a rifle, and one the family’s golden retrievers, Bailey, was by his side. So my suspicions were right. Target practice. Same shit he’d done over the years when he was feeling ornery or some kind of way I didn’t quite understand. But that was nothing new.

  “I could ask you the same question,” I said, standing and dusting myself off. “What in the hell were those gunshots?”

  He looked momentarily guilty before he squared his jaw. “I set up some tin cans. Was just getting out some frustration.”

  I strode toward the fence, awareness prickling my skin at how close we’d come just moments before the gunfire of being discovered together in a very different position. “Dad hates when you do that.”

  He scowled. “Well, Dad’s haggling prices at a cattle auction this afternoon. Besides, I’m far enough away from the house and the pastures.”

  “You couldn’t have gone farther east, away from my property? Ever think of that?” I lowered my voice. “We have a combat veteran staying with us this summer, remember?”

  Hunter stared back in shock, realization dawning on him.

  But as soon as I said the words, I regretted them. Fuck. Julian wouldn’t want to be reduced to that. To a soldier with a diagnosis.

  “Damn,” Hunter said, adjusting his hat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

  “Yeah, that’s usually the problem,” I bit out. “You don’t think.”

  “Screw off. I’m not the one who left the family business and—”

  “Did I really have a choice after the shit hit the fan?” I clenched my teeth.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Of course you did.”

  “My sexuality is not a choice.”

  “Maybe not. But your actions are.” Ah, I’d been away so long, I’d forgotten what those sermons at church were all about. You were not a sinner as long as you didn’t act on your gay feelings. Jesus Christ, did he really subscribe to that bullshit or just hide behind it?

  He looked over at Julian, an accusation of some sort blazing in his eyes. What in the hell did he think I was doing with Julian if not comforting him through an episode? My stomach roiled. I could only imagine.

  “What exactly are you getting at?” I asked, squaring my shoulders.

  “Nothin’. Just remember, in this town, nothin’ stays private for long.”

  “You always gotta find some kind of dig, don’tcha?” I ground out. “Need to run back and tell Dad so you can shame me together?”

  “You do that perfectly fine all on your own. So go fuck yourself,” he said, then strode away with the dog on his heels. I wanted to jump the fence—the fucking fence that still needed fixing from their end—and swing my fists at him, but what good would that do except create more bad blood between us? He felt the way he did, and there was no way I was going to change his mind.

  I took a moment to compose myself before cautiously walking back over to Julian, who was standing at the edge of the water, staring off in the distance. I wasn’t sure how much he’d tuned in to the conversation or if he was still lost in his own head.

  “Look, I’m sorry—”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “We should’ve never—”

  I reached for his shoulder. “Well, I don’t have any regrets.”

  He sighed. “Yeah…me neither. Just don’t want to mess anything up for you.”

  “Been messed up long before you came,” I said, and the truth of it sat like a heavy stone in my stomach. “Let’s head back.”

  23

  Julian

  “I was crouched on the ground, and it felt like I was there again.” My focus intensified on grooming Mercy’s shoulder as Dr. Barnes murmured in understanding, standing enough of a distance away in the paddock that I didn’t feel overwhelmed by her presence. It felt like it was only me and Mercy, and she was just guiding us along, which I appreciated. I didn’t even have to face her if I didn’t want to. Facing myself was enough today. “Like the bomb had detonated and all the shrapnel had pelted my body and my friends were just gone.”

  Kerry and I had lain low since the incident, and though he didn’t say it out loud, I knew he was worried that his brother suspected something was going on between us after spotting Kerry comforting me at the pond.

  I was still shaken and pretty embarrassed that Kerry had seen me so vulnerable—Hunter too, who sounded more suspicious that I was there alone with Kerry than anything else. Jackass. At the time I didn’t have the wherewithal to even form any words, let alone give him a piece of my mind.

  But I’d be on my way back East soon enough, and there would be nothing to be skeptical about any longer. I wasn’t going to let it hamper my last weeks on the farm or with Kerry. In fact, I wanted to soak up any extra time I could get with him. After that afternoon, I realized he had become important to me, and that was heady in itself.

  Empathy shined in Dr. Barnes’s eyes. “Does it always feel so believable—enough that you become completely immobilized?”

  I thought about her question as I switched sides and started the brushing again at Mercy’s hip, working my way toward his flank. I’d gotten to know his itchy spots by now and spent extra time moving the hard-bristled brush in a circular motion until he seemed satisfied.

  “Outside of the nightmares?” Because those were definitely in the moment.

  When she nodded, I shrugged. “Maybe when I first got home. The blaring horns in the city would startle me pretty badly.” I remembered hiding in my room with the pillow smashed over my head, praying for peace and quiet. Over time I’d become a bit more desensitized to the noises, but not enough to feel fully comfortable.

  “Makes sense. Your flight-or-fight response activates, and it’s hard to keep the memories from intruding, some more blatantly than others,” she replied, and damn, she really got it. Not that the social worker from the VA didn’t, but this felt different, and not only because of Mercy. Like maybe I was actually making some real headway into understanding it all.

  “What helped you come out of the episode this time?”

  “Kerry.” My heart squeezed with affection. “He’s been good at recognizing when I zone out. He tells me where I am and what’s going on around me.”

  “So he’s good at grounding you?” she asked with a hint of surprise in her tone.

  I nodded. Fuck, he was a good man all around. And it’d been different since he allowed me to cry in his arms. Transforming even, like it released a tidal wave of emotions inside me. Most of all grief. I supposed I hadn’t truly mourned the loss yet, not with all my efforts to just keep moving and hold myself together.

  When I let Dr. Barnes in on my thoughts, she agreed.

  “Trauma manifests in different ways. The body’s emotional, physical, and cognitive responses all blend together, and it feels debilitating,” she explained. “For some, it’s a matter of stepping out of your comfo
rt zone and trying something new. For others, it’s about forcing yourself to slow down so everything that happened can finally soak in and settle.”

  Holy shit, she was spot-on. “I think that describes me.”

  I switched to the softer brush and moved to stand in front of Mercy. When our eyes met, I felt his calming presence radiating inside me. Okay, it sounded ridiculous, but it was true. Like Ainsley did with Piper the day of the thunderstorm, I’d taken to humming softly to Mercy when it was only me and George, who totally didn’t judge.

  “What’s the one thing you remember focusing on when you were in the middle of it?” she asked as I began stroking Mercy’s nose.

  “What do you mean?” I kept my eyes trained on him, and Mercy blinked softly, which I’d come to recognize as contentment. Unless I was losing it. Caitlin might say I was—or even some of the guys from the platoon. Or maybe they’d get it. Once discharged, they’d be irrevocably changed too.

  “After the explosion, when you were lying on the ground, was there something you remember thinking that kept you focused? Kept you alive, if you will?”

  I swallowed my gasp, not wanting to startle Mercy. It was so much easier to talk about this stuff when I was busy tending to him. So maybe there was something to this equine therapy, after all.

  “I thought of my mom.” I glanced briefly in her direction. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to come home in a casket. That I needed to get through it for her.”

  Fuck, I hadn’t even told my mom that. She might’ve lost it if I did. We’d probably both dissolve into tears.

  Dr. Barnes stayed quiet, as if allowing that revelation to settle inside me as I finished with Mercy. When the task was complete, I gently gripped Mercy’s halter and smooched his nose. I had never done that before, but it felt right. He was sort of my savior. Or one of them, at least.