Page 14 of Property of Mercury

“He sounds like a creep,” I reply, shuddering at the memory of the men who took me. I never saw their faces, but their actions were shiver inducing.

“He’s definitely one of those, but apparently it’s hereditary, because his father and grandfather are the same,” she says, mimicking my actions. “Okay, enough talk about creeps who do nefarious things, let’s eat.”

“The apple didn’t fall far from the tree in that family, huh?” I ask as I make my way to the coffee pot. “First coffee, then food,” I decree.

She rolls her eyes at me and says, “You’re one of those kinds of people.”

“What kind of people is that?” I ask, not sure if I should resent her accusation or not.

“A coffee drinker,” she says, shuddering. “I don’t know how you can stomach that, the taste alone makes me gag. What sucks is I love the smell, and some of the creamers that are available now make me want to try again. But I know me and I know I’ll likely spew it right back out so I won’t take the chance.”

“I guess it’s a preference of some but not others. I need the jolt to wake me up and give me a jump start to my day,” I confess.

“I occasionally drink an energy drink but prefer my soda. Fountain is the best, of course, but give me some good ice and a carbonated beverage fizzing inside and I’m a happy camper.”

“What about the guys?” I question, my curiosity now roused.

“They enjoy a cup in the morning, but beer, whiskey, the occasional soda, and on a very rare occasion, ice water are their standard drinks. I suspect they’ll dabble in some heated beverages now that we’re out of the seventh pit of Hell and live in a state that has snow on a regular basis.”

“Maybe we need to see how to make hot toddies,” I suggest, giggling as I imagine their faces when they take that first sip.

She bursts out laughing then states, “I suspect it would be you and I enjoying those instead of the guys, but I guess we can try it and see.”

“Like one of my foster mommas used to say, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” I sing.

“Did she do that a lot?” Sutton queries.

“I have no idea,” I remark. “They used to argue a lot, which is why that placement didn’t last long because divorce tore our makeshift family apart, but I suspect it was her go-to method of handling things.”

She looks at me and says, “That had to be difficult being moved frequently.”

“I learned early on not to get attached to people, places, or things,” I reply. “Because I could come home from school and find my stuff packed in a garbage bag with the social worker waiting to take me to my new placement.”

“I’m sorry,” she tells me. “I realize it’s meant to ensure all kids have homes, but from what I know, not all foster families are in it for the right reason.”

“She was,” I admit. “She obviously had the money the state sent, but she treated us like we were her own flesh and blood. I had brand new clothes, not thrift store finds or hand-me-downs, and when I was sick, she actually took me to the doctor. I had another house I was at where I ended up in the hospital because my ‘simple cold’ turned into pneumonia. I nearly died that time but it got me moved and that house closed down, so at least other kids didn’t suffer like I did.”

“That’s almost as bad as the abuse, being neglected,” Sutton adds. “I hate it when people make you feel like the trash under their shoes.”

I shrug my shoulders because what’s the use in dwelling on the past. It won’t change what happened, but the lessons learned are unforgettable. I’m responsible for my future and that’s where I’ve placed my tunnel vision.

CHAPTER

EIGHT

Mercury

As we leave from visiting Skippy, I notice that Orion is a little withdrawn. He’s not as happy-go-lucky as he usually is and that doesn’t sit right with me. As we curve through the mountains heading back to the clubhouse, I let my mind wander to Finley and my growing attraction to her. I was already curious about her and longing for her company, but the need to be near her has grown over time. I’m just unsure how to make her see me, not the man who found her half-dead and broken by what was intended to kill her.

Right now, I’m her rescuer, and that’s fine, but in the long run, I want to be her everything—her confidant, her lover, her best friend. I need to use the skills I’ve honed as a tracker and apply it to building a relationship with her.

The Bluetooth in my headset goes off as Gemini speaks. “We haven’t stopped by and checked in with Midas in a while, should we take a detour and go to the bowling alley?”

“Can I get a glass of moonshine while we’re there?” Orion asks, his voice monotone, lacking its usual jovial sound.

“As long as you don’t ride while under the influence,” Aries replies. Seems I’m not the only one who doesn’t like how down in the dumps our cousin is.

“What am I gonna do? Ride bitch on your bike?” Orion inquires.