Yesterday, I left her office smiling like an idiot.
And ten hours later, I still couldn’t stop.
Because I backed Mercy into a corner and she gave in.
Now I would be with her constantly and would use that time to break down the rest of her walls. There was a reason she was determined to resist me and I needed to know what it was. Fuck knows, I found her irresistible and the proof in that was me taking an indefinite leave to see that it happens.
Mercy was it for me.
But something was holding her back from me being it for her.
I was finalizing last minute tasks when I saw she was calling.
And yes, I was still fucking smiling.
“Miss me already?”
“Is this Dion Fox?”
Instantly on alert, I respond with, “Who the fuck is this and why do you have her phone?”
“I’m Mercy’s doctor and I was calling because your number was the most recent in her log. And since she has no emergency contacts on file, I was hoping you’d be willing to pick her up, being that she’s in no shape to travel alone.”
“Doctor? She’s hurt? What happened?” Jesus Christ, I could feel my blood pressure rising.
“Dentist,” he clarifies. “And she isn’t hurt, she’s just…”
“Text me the address,” I say grabbing my coat. “I’m on my way.”
A million scenarios ran through my mind and none of them were good. Roger warned me that falling in love made you paranoid. I was so worked up that I convinced myself half her face was probably missing when I walked through the door. “You must be Dion,” the woman says showing me to the back.
“Is she okay?”
“Mercy is fine,” she assures me. Opening the door, keeping me from her, the woman says, “She’s just…stoned.”
“This happen a lot?” I ask because Mercy was currently trying to grope her dentist.
“Only twice a year,” she smiles leaving me to it.
“Mercy,” the dentist says. “There’s someone here to see you.”
Whipping around in her chair, her eyes go wide, she smiles (and I didn’t care it was lopsided) and squeals, “Ion!”
“Miss me?” I ask pulling a chair over.
“Fo uch,” she says with tears in her eyes.
“She said so much,” he clarifies.
“What kind of surgery did she have?” I question at the same time she exits the chair to crawl into my lap.
“Surgery? No surgery. She had her teeth cleaned.”
“What in the hell did you give her?”
“The standard amount of nitrous oxide unaware she’d taken enough Xanax to erase an elephant’s memory.”
“She took pills for a cleaning?”
Tapping my shoulder to get my attention she says, “errified uff da tentist,” while pointing at her mouth.
“Dental anxiety is common,” he says calmly. “Her level of anxiety is not. She went through a traumatic experience at a young age and over the years it’s progressed.”
“She’s drooling,” I point out. “I’d say it’s progressed.”
“Mercy has come a long way since her first visit here, Mr. Fox. We’re all quite proud of her. Do you know she only has four fillings?”
“That’s something,” I mumble wondering what the fuck had her so terrified she’d need to self-medicate.
“And she comes to her cleanings faithfully twice a year.”
How the woman in my arms currently sliding her hands under my shirt managed to put her fear aside to come here is beyond me. But that was Mercy for you. Nothing held her back.
“How did she plan to get home if she didn’t drive?”
“She tried calling an Uber,” he says carefully. “With my phone.”
“I see –”
“That she snuck out of my pocket during her fluoride treatment.”
Chuckling, I kiss her forehead and tell him, “Thanks for calling me.”
“Oh, and that’s why she’s drooling.”
“Come again?”
“From the treatment.”
“Got it,” I say positioning her to straddle me. “You with me, Mercy?”
“Yeff,” she nods.
“Going to carry you out, I need you to hold on tight.”
Leaning back so she could address the room she says, “Heef biff in trong.”
“He sure is big and strong,” the woman from the lobby winks at me.
Once she’s safely in her seat, I buckle her up and in her first act of trust she whispers, “Tenist oos to urt.”
“When you were little? The dentist used to hurt?”
Nodding vigorously, she says slowly, “Fe forfot tu asf fo meficine.”
“They didn’t use lidocaine?”
Closing her eyes, she shakes her head no.
“I’m proud of you,” I say wiping the spit from her mouth. “Coming here takes guts.” Though it could be said I wasn’t thinking too highly of her parents right now.
Pointing at the building she giggles, “Ood meficine.”
“Yeah, I bet the medicine was good,” I smirk. “I’m sure the pills you took helped too.”
“Ah yup,” she agrees.
“Let’s get you home,” I say buckling her in. “But first, let’s wipe your mouth.”
Mercy was sound asleep in my lap before I pulled out of the lot.
She was blotto, which meant her defenses were down. Now I was working against the clock. And let it be known, I was good with deadlines.