Page 99 of Built for Mercy

“I’m quitting the NPD.” I said it softly, deliberately—like testing the shape of the words on my tongue. Like I was waiting for them to become real. Then I looked at him. And that’s when it hit.

The shift in the air, the way his entire body tensed as if I’d just told him I was setting the world on fire. And maybe, in a way, I was.

Even he couldn’t hide his shock. “Why—”

I scratched behind Wednesday’s ears, her tiny body warm in my arms.

“I’m tired of it being a reason we can’t work out our differences.” The words left me in a rush, like they’d been waiting to be spoken. I exhaled, shifting my grip on the cat. “And because I can’t keep hiding behind my badge to justify corruption. My time has come and gone.”

Maverick went completely still. Then, a slow grin pulled at his mouth, the kind that took my breath away, the kind that felt like the start of something sinful. “Wanna move in?”

I let out a breathy laugh, dragging my free hand up his stomach, feeling the ridges of muscle beneath his shirt.

“Never thought I’d hear that out of your mouth when you held me at gunpoint the first time we met.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“There’s something else I never responded to.” His body tensed slightly as I shifted closer, looping my free arm around his neck—the other still balancing the cat. Wednesday meowed in protest, and I huffed a laugh, shifting her higher against my chest before whispering, “I love you, too.”

“Don’t say it unless you mean it.” His voice was low, rough, as if he was already bracing for me to take it back.

“I mean it, Mav.”

Something in him broke. I felt it in the way his arms came around too fast, too tight, his fingers curling into my back like he wasn’t willing to risk a single inch of space between us. I felt it in the way his breath hitched, how he ducked his head, pressing his forehead against mine, exhaling like he’d been holding it in for too fucking long.

I felt it in the way he kissed me. Desperate. Raw. Needy. Not just claiming, but committing.

And I kissed him back, letting him steal the breath from my lungs, my fingers tangling in his hair—still just a little longer the way I loved it—my heart slamming against my ribs.

Wednesday meowed in protest again, trapped between us.

Maverick grunted, pulling back just enough to glare at her, his chest heaving. “This cat’s already cockblocking me, huh?”

I laughed, warmth flooding my chest. “Get used to it, Mercer.”

He smirked, his hand sliding up my back, possessive, solid. “Oh, I plan to.”

And fuck, if that didn’t make my heart flip.

He took Wednesday from me, his large, veiny hands wrapping around her gently, scratching her head before depositing her back on the ground.

Then he was on me, and we were stumbling backward into the bedroom, hands fumbling with clothing. There was an unspoken understanding that this was more than just physical release. It was a merging of souls, a union of two broken halves coming together to create something whole.

Our laughter mixed with moans as clothes were discarded haphazardly, skin on skin igniting sparks that set us both ablaze. Maverick’s touch was both rough and gentle, his kisses branding me ashis.

“Say it again,” he murmured.

“I love you,” I told him.

“I fucking love you, too.” He picked me up and tossed me on the bed as if I weighed nothing. “And you’re not leaving me again.”

I shook my head. “No. Never.”

“That’s my girl.”

***

Later, as we lay entangled in the silk sheets of his bed, the world outside ceased to exist. His skin burned against mine—not scorching, but sinking in, leaving traces of him everywhere, each caress a word in the silent language we spoke. Our heartssynchronized in this sacred space where all was right and nothing else mattered.