“OK,” I say, cutting her off. “He gets it.” I send Merc the compulsory warning look, which just makes him narrow his eyes at me, daring me to threaten him. But I don’t. We’re done with Merc for the moment. I want Wendy all to myself. “Come on.” I brace her against my shoulder and help her to her feet.
“Whoa. Slow down there. She needs to sit for a while or she’ll just pass out.”
“I got this,” I tell Merc. “I’m taking her to the bedroom.”
Merc looks like he wants to object, but Harrison cuts in. “Let him go. We need to talk, anyway.” And then he’s also narrowing his eyes at me.
Lots of suspicion being thrown around this room at the moment. And I should probably hang back and wait for Harrison to voice his concerns to Merc, just so I’m up to speed. But fuck them. I need to get Wendy somewhere private, and that needs to happen now.
I pick Wendy up, cradling her in my arms, and then I take her into the bedroom and kick the door closed with my foot. I set her down on the bed, then turn, lock the door, and let out a long breath. “Are you sure you’re OK?”
Wendy coughs again and sits up, like she needs to catch her breath. I’m instantly hot with anger over how this played out. “Wendy.” My voice is stern now. Because if she ignores me, then she won’t have to answer. And if she doesn’t answer, then she doesn’t have to lie either.
She takes a couple more breaths. “I’m OK. I promise. It was—”
“Never mind that. We’ll talk about that later.” Her speckled blue eyes meet mine and she coughs again. “In private,” I whisper. This makes her look up and around for surveillance. I don’t know if Merc broke into my control room and took over my cameras and microphones in the house, but if I were running his side of this little operation, that’s what I would’ve done.
Wendy nods, getting it.
“Now tell me the truth. Are you really OK?” I’m not so worried about the coughing. I know this is a side effect of the drugs Merc used. They tighten up the alveoli in the lungs and this is what triggers that reflex. It’s not going to kill her. The symptoms will wear off over the course of the evening
What I’m worried about is her mind.
He was inside her.
It feels every bit the violation it sounds like.
He was in her head. He had control of her. He manipulated her.
And I. Am. Pissed.
“I’m fine.” She whispers this. Then pats the bed. “Come on. Here. Come lie down with me.”
I want to. I haven’t seen her since last New Year’s and I just want to fucking hug this girl and never let her go. But I can hear Merc and Harrison talking out in my kitchen. So I hold up one finger, letting her know I’m listening.
Then there’s a sharp knock at the door. “What?” I say. It’s loud and sharp too. But I don’t open the door.
“Harrison has to get home. I’m going to the store to get food. You don’t have much here.”
That’s because I don’t actually live here full-time, you dick. That’s what I want to say. But instead I just say, “Town’s about twenty-four miles north of here. Pick Wendy up a cookie-dough Blizzard from DQ, will ya?”
She snickers softly in the bed.
“Anything else?” his snide scoff is clear, even from the other side of the door.
“Tacos.” Wendy smiles at me. “From Roberto’s on the corner of Main and Sunflower.”
There’s a long silence on the other side of the door. And I imagine Merc and Harrison shooting each other looks, coming to a conclusion on what to say next. I’m pretty sure Merc is mad about letting me take Wendy into the bedroom now that he’s stuck on the other side of a locked door. But he’s truly not here to hurt us. He just wants info. And I know he just wants info, so I’m taking advantage of his desire to keep this whole operation as clean as possible. And he’s already fucked up. I don’t know if he meant to steal Wendy’s mind—was that part of his plan? Or was Wendy about to get the best of him when they met up and the mind-fucking just turned into a last resort kinda solution?
I won’t know that until she and I can talk freely.
Finally, Merc has something to say. “Are you gonna be here when I get back?”
I look over my shoulder at Wendy. It’s her call. She’s in charge, and she nods. “We’ll be here,” I tell him.
There are a few more minutes of whispers and shuffling from the kitchen, but then the back door smacks closed. I walk over to the window, peek through the pillowcase curtains, and watch Merc and Harrison having a final conversation. They walk down the driveway towards the jet, which is parked in the middle of the lonely dirt road, and seem to come to some kind of conclusion. Then Merc walks back this way and gets into Wendy’s truck as Harrison gets into his jet.