Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Mercury
Is it wrong of me to linger here, concealed by the wall, eavesdropping on what they are saying?
Absofuckinglutely, but I have no regrets since it finally gives me a clear window into her mind.
Hot breath hits my ear as Orion asks, “What’cha doing, cousin?
Surely, you aren’t listening in on their conversation.
” I jerk back, slamming my elbow into the drywall, but I catch myself before I make a sound.
I glare at him, my pulse thrumming. He’s grinning like he just found a gold mine.
I grab the front of his cut and drag him down the hallway, away from the kitchen and the eyes of anyone else who might catch us lurking.
“Shut your mouth,” I hiss, keeping my voice low. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Right,” he drawls, straightening his cut. “You’re just standing here in the shadows, staring at the wall while they talk about her feelings and shit. You’ve got it bad, Merc.”
“It isn’t like that,” I lie, even though the words taste like bile on my tongue.
It is exactly like that. The way she sounded just now, broken and scared, it guts me.
I don’t care if it’s wrong to listen. I need to understand what’s going on in her head so I can fix it.
I need to know how to be the man she needs.
“You’re transparent,” Orion says, his voice losing the teasing edge. He leans against the wall, looking down at his boots. “She’s a survivor, man. She’s not some delicate flower you can just pot and water. If you try to cage her, she’s going to fight you just as hard as she fought them.”
“I’m not trying to cage her,” I growl.
“Maybe not,” he says, glancing back toward the living room. “But you’re watching her like a hawk. You’re hovering. You think that’s protecting her? It’s just showing her you don’t trust her to keep herself upright.”
“I trust her,” I say, though my gut twists with doubt. I don’t trust the world she’s in. I don’t trust that the danger is gone. “I just want to be sure she knows we’ve got her back.”
Orion sighs, a sound that echoes in the cramped hall. “Give her space, Merc. If you want her to trust you, you have to show her you’re a partner, not a warden.”
He walks away, leaving me to stare at the doorframe.
He’s right. I hate that he’s right. I turn back and look toward where they’re congregated.
I don’t go in, I just stand there, forcing my lungs to expand and contract, trying to dial back the need to rush in and take control.
It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done because I want to make her world light and easy to navigate.
A soft cough cuts through my thoughts, drawing my focus to the kitchen entrance.
Jerking my head around, I see Pisces leaning there with his arms crossed over his chest, his face completely unreadable.
“He makes a fair point, Merc,” Pisces somberly says.
“If you treat her like a kenneled animal, she’s only gonna bolt the second you remove her from the cage. ”
“So you’re telling me to back off?” I demand, my voice tight with tension.
“I’m telling you to take a damn breath and give her a bit of space,” Pisces counters, stepping closer, his heavy boots making no sound on the floorboards.
“You’re so completely fixated on the external threat that you’re turning into a threat yourself inside this house.
Finley isn’t just some assignment to manage.
She’s a human being. If you want her to stick around, you’ve got to give her a reason to stay that goes beyond basic safety. ”
I let his words sink in. They bite, but I can’t deny the truth in them.
My entire life has been about hunting, tracking, and securing, and I’m mistakenly trying to apply those cold rules to a woman who just barely escaped a living nightmare.
By suffocating her with protection, I’m denying her the room she needs to breathe.
But I gave her room in the beginning and each time I saw her afterward, she looked rejected.
I can’t do that again. I won’t do that to her, she needs to know that I want her with every beat of my heart.
“It’s a struggle,” I confess, the admission heavy as it drags out of me.
“Every time I look at her, all I can see are the cuts, the deep bruises, and the lingering fear. My immediate instinct is to shield her from the world, from absolutely everything. You’re telling me to back off?
” I ask, my voice tight. “I’m not sure I can do that. ”
“I know,” Pisces says. His tone softens slightly, a wry grin now on his face. “But that instinct is exactly what’s going to drive her away. Show her who you are when you aren’t on edge. Show her the man underneath the cut.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder and turns back toward the kitchen, leaving me alone in the dim hallway.
I let out a long, shaky breath and run a hand through my hair.
He’s right. I need to be better. I need to be more.
I push off the wall and walk away, heading for the porch.
The cold air is what I need to clear the fog from my head.
I’ll give her the space she needs, even if it kills me.
I set off to take a walk, clear my head, and approach this whole thing from a new angle.
I’m not sure how long I walk for, but when I make my way back to the house, Finley is sitting on the porch, a steaming cup of hot chocolate in her hands.
The smell permeating the air around me tells me what she’s drinking since I haven’t gotten to her just yet, and sends a longing for easier times when my mom would make me a cup and we’d sit outside and talk.
The porch planks creak under my boots as I place a foot on the bottom board, watching her.
She looks small against the wide Montana sky, her shoulders finally dropping from the tension that’s plagued her since I brought her here.
She holds the mug with both hands, the steam curling into the chilly air.
It’s a peaceful sight, and for once, I don’t feel the urge to run in and change it.
I clear my throat, the sound sharp in the quiet night.
She glances up, her eyes widening slightly before she relaxes again.
She doesn’t flinch, and that simple reaction makes my chest loosen.
I know it’s going to take her time to completely relax her guard around complete strangers, but hopefully, with how we’ve been around while she was being medically cared for, we’ve made progress.
“You're back,” she says. Her voice is calm, lacking the defensive edge she usually carries when she sees me.
“I am,” I reply. I climb the steps slowly, making sure she sees every move I make.
I don’t want to startle her. I take a seat a few feet away, leaving enough space to make it clear I’m not here to crowd her.
“That looks good, better than the shit they served at the clinic that they tried to pass off as hot chocolate.” I know she doesn’t think I really noticed her, but I’ve been studying her since the day we met.
I may have been in the background most of the time when she was awake, but I noticed every little thing about her.
She prefers hot chocolate to coffee, and since we live in Montana, she’s probably going to be in her element living here.
She also tends to think before she speaks.
As someone who grew up around family that often reacted, it’s a welcome change.
“Much better,” she agrees, taking a sip. “Sutton is a lifesaver. She seems to have a stash of everything, including good cocoa.”
“She’s full of surprises,” I say. It’s quiet out here compared to the hustle and bustle of city life.
The only sound is the wind in the trees and the distant hum of the wilderness.
“I shouldn't have been hovering earlier.” She gives me a startled look so I add to my statement.
“I know you saw me there, Finley. I saw your eyes look my way when Pisces and I were talking.”
She turns her head, studying me. There’s a question in her gaze, one she’s clearly weighing. “Why were you doing it?”
“Habit, I guess,” I admit. I look at my hands, calloused and scarred from a life of fighting.
“I’m a tracker, Finley. My whole life is about finding things that are lost or hidden.
When you appeared in my life, I treated you like a mission.
Something to be secured and guarded. I forgot that a mission doesn’t have a soul, but you do. ”
She smiles, and it’s genuine this time. It reaches her eyes, turning them soft. “I appreciate the sentiment. But I’m not a mission. I’m just a woman who’s tired of being hunted.”
“I get that,” I tell her as I reach out, resting my elbows on my knees. “And I promise, that changes tonight. I’m not your warden. If you want to sit out here, you sit. If you want to talk, I’m right here. But I’m not going to watch your every move like I’m waiting for you to fall.”
She takes another sip of her drink, looking out at the darkness. “That sounds like a start, Mercury.”
“It’s the only place we have to go,” I say.
We sit in silence then, but it isn’t the suffocating kind.
It’s the comfortable sort, the kind that lets two people breathe in the same space without needing to fill it with noise.
For the first time since I found her, I feel like I’m finally in the right place.
“For the record, you never made me feel like you were guarding me like a prisoner. Honestly, your presence makes me feel safe,” she admits. “You mentioned earlier that there was something you wanted to discuss. Now that we're by ourselves, do you want to share what that is?”
“This is uncharted territory for me, Fin. I’m really not the type to talk about feelings and all that kind of shit,” I confess. “But I’ve got all these mixed emotions tangled up inside, and honestly, most of them are about you and me.”
“Since I have feelings for you too, Mercury, I think it’s important we talk about them. So let’s start clearing the air,” she suggests.