Page 99 of At Your Mercy

He grunted and looked me up and down. “You don’t look like someone who got shot ten days ago.”

“I’m a quick healer,” I replied.

“Maybe you’d like to invite us inside?” Wes said, muttering under his breath about how heraised them with manners.

The front door then opened, drawing our attention to the short, brown-haired man in the doorway.

Unlike Hudson, he gave me what felt like a genuine smile and held the door open for us three to pile in.

“Hi,” he said, looking up at me with soft brown eyes behind glasses. “I’m Oliver.”

Huh, he was kinda adorable?

“Ro,” I answered. “You’re the one with the twins?”

He nodded, the movement bouncing some of the curls on his head. “Yep. I’m their husband. Sorta a househusband? It’s nice to meet you. You’re so beautiful.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his sweetness. “Thank you. Do you help the twins with their work at all?”

He gave a startled laugh. “Oh, no. No, I’m definitely not built for that.”

“Come on, pet,” Hudson called, his voice pulling us out of the little bubble we’d been in. I was surprised to see him and Wes down the hall, clearly waiting for us.

“Coming, Master!”

That was… Nope, not going to kink-shame.

He walked beside me as we followed Hudson and Wes through the hall, his steps light, his expression curious but kind as he snuck glances at me. The sunlight from the tall windows caught in his hair, and I found myself thinking—he’d make a good friend.

Someone who wasn’t in our world.

Someone without blood under his nails.

Someone I could sit beside in a movie theater, sharing popcorn with.

The thought felt foreign, but nice. Really nice.

We reached a heavy, reinforced door at the end of the hall. Hudson typed in a code, the lock clicking open. Oliver stopped short just before the threshold.

“I’m not going down with you guys,” he said. “It’s sometimes a bit too much for me.”

Wes glanced back at him. “Smart boy.”

Oliver swallowed and gave Wes a faint, nervous smile. “I don’t think we’ve officially met yet. Thank you for everything you’ve done for my husbands. You’re a good man.”

Wes looked a bit taken aback for a second, like he didn’t understand what he was being thanked for, then melted at the sentiment. “Thank you, Oliver. I’ve never actually been thanked for that before. I’m sure they put you through a lot.”

Oliver’s mouth quirked. “Yeah, but I love them.” His gaze shifted to me. “Good luck, by the way. I’ve been down a few times this week and… um, well, he’s an awful person. Like, probably the worst out of the ones I’ve met.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

“Still,” Oliver said, lowering his voice a little, “don’t let him get in your head. You’re in control now. Whatever he’s done to you, give it to him worse. I’ll be up here in the living room if you maybe want to talk after?”

I nodded, holding his gaze for a beat longer than I meant to. “Thank you. And yeah, I think I’d like that.”

And then he was gone, footsteps fading up the hall as Hudson pushed open the door and gestured for us to follow down the steps.

The air changed instantly—cooler, heavier. The corridor was narrow, lined with concrete. The smell of metal and bleach clung to everything.