My Heart’s Home by Kris Michaels

Chapter 8

Mercy stood by the burn barrel and extended her hands. A winter storm had covered the Cottages in drifts of snow. Dezzy skipped around Cam as they both walked down the hill. The man was kind to her daughter, but then again, Ian had been kind in the beginning. Until she moved in, and then things changed. She sighed and stared at the flames. They'd been living in the tent with Cam for over a week, and he hadn't lost his temper or demanded anything of her. Dezzy was enthralled with the man who laughed freely and tolerated all of Destiny's endless questions. Something Ian would never do. She shivered and moved a bit closer to the burn barrel.

She heard someone coughing. A deep, wet cough that wouldn't bode well for the person who was sick. There was always something going around camp; living in such conditions, there was always a chance of becoming ill. Collette had taught her to keep as clean as possible.

She shifted and turned her side to the barrel. There were wood pieces today, parts that couldn't be used to reinforce tents or shanties.

Her throat was raw and sore, and the cold this year cut through her. Granted, she'd lost a lot of weight, but making sure Dezzy was full was more important than food for herself. It always had been.

Cam laughed and lifted Dezzy over a drift of snow and then stepped over the two-foot-high barrier himself. Mercy liked talking to him at night after Dezzy had fallen asleep. He spoke of his life in the Air Force but didn't mention how he became homeless. She understood that. Each of them had their demons to hide.

A soft smile pressed against her lips. She liked Cam, and that frightened her. He hadn't been in the camp long, and what she did know about him were things they whispered about at night.

"What do you miss about being in the Air Force?" She loved hearing him talk about his life.

"The people. Hands down. I think the military builds bonds in a way other jobs don't. A common goal and dedication."

"All the services?"

"Yes." He nodded. "I was stuck at the USO overnight on the way back from my last duty assignment. I met some guys there that were just as dedicated to their service as I was to mine."

"Tell me about them?" She could listen to him talk all night.

"Well, there was John. He had an injury that prevented him from staying in his job, so he was heading home. I swear, I can't remember which state, but it was somewhere up here in the northeast. He really tugged at my protective strings."

"Why's that?" She pulled the blanket up after Dezzy turned over.

"He had this envelope full of letters that kids had written to his unit. He kept them. Something about that hit me in the gut. Like he needed that connection."

"Some people are like that." She couldn't be, but she did miss the connection of friends.

"He was. Is. He texted me a couple times. Someday I'm going to find him and see how things worked out for him."

Mercy was quiet for a bit. Cam was still new to the camp, and he talked of the future as if he wasn't going to be stuck here. She didn't draw any attention to it; instead, she changed the subject. "Okay, here's one: what is your favorite color?" Mercy quipped back in a hushed whisper.

Cam hummed and then said, "Purple or red."

"That's two; pick one," she chuckled softly.

"Reddish-purple." He chuckled when she made a tsking sound. "Favorite movie?" he asked.

"Wow… okay, you won't laugh, right?"

She heard him move. "Cross my heart."

She giggled as she imagined him making the motions. "All right, but remember, you promised. My favorite movie is Pretty Woman."

"That's the one with Richard Greer?"

"Yeah. I liked that he rescued her."

"And she rescued him right back," Cam paraphrased Julia's line in the movie.

Mercy laughed quietly, "You've watched it?"

"Three times."

"What?" She couldn't help the surprised question.

Cam gave an agonized and comical sigh, "Yeah, it was a long flight back from Europe, and it was the only movie my broken entertainment system would play. So, it was that or listen to the guy next to me snore."

She pulled the canvas back. "How many times have you flown across the ocean?"

"Both? Wow, twenty or so. First was the Pacific to Guam. That was a short tour, so I was only there for eighteen months. That was the first of many. After that, I was stationed in Europe mostly in England. My last station was in Germany. I was overseas for twelve years prior to coming back. I can tell you that I flew back two too many times from Europe. First, I had to bury my mom, and then six months later, my dad."

"Cam?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you end up here?"

She saw him turn toward her in the dark. "How did you?" He reached out and placed his hand over hers.

"Tit for tat?" she asked.

"Yes."

"My fiancé abused us."

"Ian?" She involuntarily jerked at hearing the man's name. "Dezzy said his name once. I remembered."

"Yeah, Ian. I ended up in the emergency room so many times. One awful time, the doctor asked if I wanted to file a report against him. That time I didn't lie and say I'd fallen. I said yes. I don't know why." She closed her eyes, so damn embarrassed.

His thumb stroked the back of her hand. "Go on."

She sighed, "I should have just left him, walked away from the hospital and tried to find help, but I didn't because by that time I didn't have a job. He wanted me home to keep the house clean. For some insane reason, I thought if he saw he'd hurt me and that I wouldn't stand for it, he'd treat me better. I prayed so hard that he'd stop hitting me, and for a while, he always did… Until the paperwork was processed through, and he was told to leave the police force. His captain didn't fire him. Just told him to give his notice. So, he did. That day he came home drunk. His buddies had taken him out because it was his last night. He was so mad. He started on me, and when Dezzy tried to get him to stop, he backhanded her into a table, picked her up, and threw her against the wall. I couldn't let him start hurting her too, so I hit him with one of the big glass ashtrays he had." She paused and drew in a shaking breath. "He lost it. I woke up on the floor with Dezzy sitting beside me, crying."

"Why didn't you call the police?"

She sighed. "He told me that they'd take Dezzy away because of what I did to him. The glass cut him, and he took pictures."

"What did you do?"

"I healed, and I did everything he asked. Dezzy stayed in her room when he was home. When I thought we could make it, we ran. I took all the money he had in his wallet, and we slipped out after he fell asleep. About three miles from the house, a patrol car stopped us. His friends. They took us back even after I told them what he'd do. They flashed pictures of Ian's injuries on their phone and told me I was lucky I wasn't thrown in jail, that Ian was a great guy." She was crying. "He locked Dezzy in her room and told her if he heard a sound, he'd kill me. Then he… It was bad."

Cam's fingers threaded through hers, and he pulled her hand toward his mouth, kissing it. "I'm so sorry."

"It took months for me to heal enough to try again. This time, I waited until he went to his new job. We left ten minutes after he did. We got on the bus and headed into town. I wanted to save what little money I had, so we walked after that. The first night, we slept on a bench in the park, under a streetlight. The cops chased us out before morning. About a week later, I met Collette on the street. She knew by looking at us we didn't have anywhere to go. She taught me how to live on the street, where the food and handouts were. What areas to avoid, where to clean up."

"What happened to Collette?"

"She died. OD'd on heroin that was cut with rat poison. At least, that's what the rumor was."

"You've been through so much." He kissed the back of her hand again.

"I'm terrified they'll take Dezzy from me."

"Ian lied, and you have medical visits and a police report to back up your claims. I'm pretty sure he didn't file a report. He'd have been forced to explain your injuries." Cam's voice was so calm, but she could feel the tension in his body.

"If he finds us again, he'll kill me. He told me that. Every night, he told me he'd kill me, and he'd make Dezzy's life hell."

"Legally, he can't do that."

She pulled her hand away. "Nothing about Ian is legal, and homeless people don't get justice, Cam. We're throwaway people. Trash that no one wants to see or hear." She rolled over. "I'm tired. Good night."

Mercy rotated by the burn barrel, warming her other side. They hadn't talked about anything as serious in days. Cam seemed to know she was done talking about Ian.

She watched as Dina made her way up the hill. She stopped at the burn barrel and held out her hands. "Mona's kids came back today. She got picked up for hooking. She screamed at the kids to run when they were busting her. They did."

Mercy sighed, "Did someone take them in?"

"They're hanging with Punt now. He's going to take them to the shelter. No adults to watch out for them, so they'll go into the system, but at least they won't freeze or starve. However, that girl of Mona's is pretty enough. She could make some money."

"Dina! She's only twelve!"

"What? Like Johns wouldn't pay for her? Come on, you live in the real world now, toots."

She glared at the woman. Dina's nose was running, and she hadn't bothered to wipe it. Her hair was filthy, and she scratched her arms, which had fresh needle marks up and down the inside. Dina had scraped all the broken pieces of shelters together and made a lean-to for her and her kids. It was tiny and poorly constructed, but Dina was managing, if only barely. The woman turned to her. "Speaking of which, that Cam is a fine-looking man. You hook up with him?"

Mercy grabbed her jacket, closing it at her throat, and shook her head. "No. It isn't like that."

"Why? It should be. I mean, damn, girl, he's not going to stick around here long. He's a vet, and they got more options. So, get yourself under that man's skin so he'll take you with him, or I'll take a shot at him."

"Thanks for the advice." She leveled a stare at Dina and dared her to say anything more.

Dina rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

She quickly looked toward Cam and Dezzy, who were heading back up another row of the camp. He did that once or twice a day. Just walked the camp as if he was looking for something he lost. Today, Dezzy went with him. She'd gotten attached to Cam, which wasn't good. When the man left, she'd be hurt, but they'd deal with that when they had to. "Can you keep an eye on Dezzy tomorrow?"

"Kid's old enough to take care of herself. Why you need eyes on her?"

"I need to go into town."

Dina cocked her head. "For what?"

"An ID."

Dina whistled. "You know where to go?"

She nodded. "I do. Once I get that, I can apply to the shelters."

"Girl, they're filled up. It's cold, ain't no one going to be leaving." Dina snorted. "That ID ain't magic. What happens if they do a background check?"

Mercy snapped her eyes up and stared at Dina. "Why would the shelters do that?"

"They don't want no criminals. But you ain't one, so why don't you just give them your real name?"

"He'll find us then."

"He a cop or something?"

"Or something." She wasn't going to give Dina any more information.

"Okay, well, I'll keep an eye out for your kid. She can come around if she has to. Speaking of brats, I gotta get back to mine. See yah."

"Later." Mercy hated sending Dezzy to Dina if she was in trouble, but she couldn't ask Cam to watch her. Like she told Dina, it wasn't like that. She couldn't let it be, as much as she wanted it to happen. Cam was a gentleman, different than Ian. Probably. Maybe. She sighed and shook her head. They weren't Cam's problem. Period. Besides, Dezzy knew how to watch out for herself. She'd let her daughter know to find Bull if something was wrong that Dina couldn't handle.

As Cam and Dezzy turned and headed back down another row of the encampment, she heard Dezzy singing with Cam. Her daughter needed normalcy, and no matter what Dina said, a new ID would be the first step. She'd be able to make a life without the threat of Ian hanging over their shoulders.

* * *

Cam stood by the burn barrel and stared down the hill. The food trucks had come and gone, and he'd brought Dezzy up the hill with him. Mercy still wasn't back. Dina had said she had to see someone, but she didn't say who. When Punt came out of his tent, Cam nodded to his. "Dezzy is in there. Her mom hasn't come home. I'm going to talk to Dina and then go look for her."

"Crazy cold today. Not good to be out in this weather." Punt turned to his tent. “Tell her I'm here if she needs me. She hollers, I'll hear."

Cam nodded his thanks and dipped into the tent.

"Mom?" Dezzy's eyes were wide.

"No sign of her yet. I'm going to go look for her. You stay here. Don't go out. Punt is right next door if you need him. Crawl into your pallet and get warm."

"Cam, you can find her, right? She's never late. Something's wrong. Do you think Ian found her?"

"Ian?" He pulled his gloves from his coat pocket.

"Her old boyfriend. He hurt her really bad, Cam. He hit me and threw me against the wall, too, but Momma made him stop, and then he just hit her." The girl put her hands up to her head and started rocking. "She was bleeding so much."

"Hey, Ian's not here. He wouldn't know where she is."

"Yes, he would. He was a policeman, and they took us back to him when we ran away. It was bad, Cam. He was so mad."

"Look, I've got to go to find her. Do you want to go down to Dina's and wait?"

"No. I'll stay here." Dezzy wiped her nose and lifted her chin. "I'll stay here."

"Good, girl." He pulled the child to him and dropped a kiss on her head. "I'll be back." He didn't say he'd be back with her mom. That was a promise he couldn't make.

At Dina's hodgepodge shelter, he waited for the woman to exit when he called to her. She looked up at him like he was insane. "What?"

"Where did Mercy go today? She isn't back."

Dina's eyes flicked toward the city. "That ain't good."

"No, it’s not. Where did she go? I'll backtrack."

"To get a fake ID so she could get into the shelters." Dina nodded toward the city. "Harvest Street, near Tenth. Small electronics shop. Harper's Electronics. The guy forges IDs for a hundred and fifty bucks. She told me she had the money."

Cam turned to Dina. "Did you tell anyone else?"

Dina's eyes flicked up to him. "Just Jordy."

"Who is Jordy?"

"I get some stuff from him sometimes. To relieve the stress, you know?"

"Where is Jordy?"

Dina pointed to the east side of the camp. "Stays over there most of the time."

Cam stepped in so the woman had to look up at him. Her pupils were blown wide. She was high. "You got some free drugs for that information, didn't you? If she's hurt, I'm holding you responsible."

Dina sniffed. "Whatever, man. She shouldn't have said shit if she didn't want it spread around."

Cam spun and headed into the city. Jogging once he got to the sidewalk where streetlights guided his path, he moved in the most direct route to Harvest Street. His ears were freezing from the cold and his run, but he pushed forward. He found the shop without a problem; of course, it was closed. Signs plastered the front windows saying ‘No Loitering’ and ‘Bathrooms Only For Customers’ told him that Mercy wouldn't have gone into the front door. He made his way to the back alley. There was one working streetlight and rows of garbage bins. A bottle rattled at the far end of the passage. He searched behind the shop but found nothing.

If he was Mercy, how would he come and go from this store? He walked down the alley and paused at the end. He could go right to Tenth or down to Harvest. What would be the quickest way from the camp to the store? Fuck, he had no idea. He went with his gut and turned right. He shuffle-jogged to the next alleyway, checking it before running back and moving to the next alley and the next.

About a block before the turn to the encampment, he was half-mad with worry. When Mercy let down her guard, she was a supernova in his dark, undercover world. If they'd met under any other circumstances, he'd have asked her out immediately. His protective urges, stronger than he'd care to admit, fueled his race through the backstreets of the city. He had to find her for Destiny and, he admitted to himself, for himself.

He jogged down an alley and stutter-stepped as he passed a dumpster. There, on top of a pile of garbage and under a heap of broken trash bags, a small hand protruded from the refuse. He shoved the stinking debris away and dropped to his knees. Mercy. Her lips were so pale they were almost blue. There was dried blood under her nose. He ripped off his gloves and felt for a pulse. Shit, no, no. He turned her onto her back and slowed his breathing before he tried again, concentrating on the feel of her skin under his cold fingers. There. Thank God.

"Mercy. Mercy, wake up, sweetheart. Come on. Talk to me."

Her eyes opened briefly, and she groaned something unintelligible. Cam shoved away the trash and quickly examined her as best as he could before he scooped her up into his arms. She was so cold, and even though she was dead weight in his arms, she was too damn light. "Hang on. We'll get you warmed up." He repeated his words almost as a mantra as he race-walked back to the camp.

Bull saw him and raced down to the edge of the camp. "Let me take her."

He shook his head. "Get Destiny out of the tent. She doesn't need to see this."

Bull nodded and raced back up the hill. He could hear Dezzy's frantic questions and Bull's voice answering her, but by the time he made it to the tent, they were gone. He worked as fast as humanly possible, taking off all their garments, leaving only their underwear. He threw his weapon under his backpack and flipped his blanket on top of Mercy and Dezzy's pallet. The bones of Mercy's ribs and hips stuck out in relief of her white skin. Fuck, she didn't have any body fat at all. He had to warm her up before he could worry about any other injury, although he couldn't see anything wrong with her as he undressed her. Cam pulled her to him and wrapped his body around her. Pulling her as close as he could, he carefully rubbed her skin where he could reach.

Fuck.His mind raced through everything he'd learned about self-aid and emergency care during cold weather rescues. Warm the body, assess the injuries. The bloody nose was the only injury he saw.

"I got an extra blanket, and I'm going to heat up a sports drink that Punt has. Sweet, warm liquid will help."

Bull's voice outside the tent jerked him from his thoughts. He spoke loud enough for Bull to hear him, "I'm not moving. Bring the blanket in, please."

Bull opened the flap and nodded when he saw Cam wrapped around her. He flung another blanket on top of them. "That drink will be here soon. What happened?"

"Dina told someone named Jordy she was getting a fake ID."

"Which means she had money." Bull cussed low and quietly.

"Yeah, and Dina got drugs for the information. The fucker left Mercy under a pile of garbage in an alley about a block from here."

Bull dropped his head. "Dina is getting worse. When Mona was with her, they weren't too bad. Now? She's going downhill fast. She told some guy named Jorrie?"

"No, Jordy." He articulated it clearly for Bull as the man watched his lips.

Bull nodded. "I'm on it. I'll take Enzo with me. You know there ain't no way we'll get her money back. He's probably on a huge high."

"No." Mercy's voice snapped both of their attention to the woman. "He didn't get money. He took the ID. Going to sell it." Her chattering teeth made the words almost impossible to understand. "Dezzy?"

Bull looked at him, and he repeated what Mercy had said. Bull nodded. "Dezzy's fine. Staying with me in my tent tonight so you can get better." Bull dropped his eyes.

"So cold." She burrowed down into the blankets and closer to Cam.

He wrapped his arms around her and glanced back at Bull. "Jordy's mine." He waited until the man acknowledged him and dipped out of the tent before he moved a fraction of an inch closer and snuggled her to him. "You're safe, Mercy. Dezzy is okay. I promise, no one is ever going to hurt you again.”

She plastered herself against him, and he held her as she shivered and eventually fell asleep. He'd rewarm the drink Bull had quietly slipped into the interior of the tent when she woke in the morning.

* * *

When the dim light of the full moon made it possible to see, he carefully slipped out of the blankets and wrapped them around her, using one as a drape for her head to keep the heat in. He got dressed and cleaned her face up the best he could with a bottle of water and rag. She tossed and turned a bit as he dabbed at her bloody nose but didn't rouse from her slumber. Cam went over to Bull's tent. "Dezzy?"

"Here," Dezzy said and moments later scrambled out the door. "Is she okay?"

"She's going to be. Right now, she's sleeping and staying warm."

Dezzy moved closer and looked up at him. "What happened? It wasn't Ian, was it? He didn't…" The girl’s hands wrung in circles in front of her.

He put his hand over hers to stop the motion. She stared at him; those big green eyes held tears that she hadn't shed. "No, honey. Someone wanted the money they thought she had. They roughed her up a bit, and she got very cold. When she wakes up, I'll come get you, okay?"

She nodded and threw her arms around him. "Thank you, Cam."

He hugged her for a minute and then dropped to his knees in front of her. "I'll take good care of her, okay?"

She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. "No one but me has ever taken care of her. Not in a long time."

He closed his eyes. Destiny's childhood had been stripped from her, and he ached for the loss of her innocence. "I know, honey. It's okay, though. You go lay down and get warm. I'll come get you when she's awake."

The girl nodded her head against him and whispered, "Thank you." He gave her a squeeze, and she turned away, going back into Bull's tent.

He stood and turned toward the east. He'd wait until Mercy filled him on what had happened, then he'd go after the junkie that had the guts to fuck with his wom–– He slammed the brakes on that thought.

Scrubbing his face with his hands, he growled in frustration. Several weeks of whispered conversations after Dezzy had fallen asleep and he was a lovesick pup. Shit, he was stupid, but there it was. His attraction to the woman had started the first time he'd seen her, and nothing he'd seen in this piss-infested hellhole had changed his mind. The woman and her child… They meant something to him. Okay, he wouldn't slap a label on it. As a matter of fact, he couldn't, but what he felt for them wasn't a conditioned response or a crutch for his undercover operation. If anything, it made checking in harder. But he walked and talked with Dezzy while searching for Mitchell and watched for the guy when he was out and about.

His eyes traveled over the acres of hovels and tents. Some people lingered around burn barrels, and others huddled under what shelter they had. These were the unwanted and the forgotten. He shook his head. Forgotten by some, not everyone. Some good people tried to help, like the people in the food trucks that came once a week. Only the problem was too big for a few people.

He rolled his shoulders and went back into his tent. Taking care not to wake Mercy, he retrieved his cell and powered it up, pushing it inside his coat so the light wouldn't illuminate the tent. He checked his messages. No sign of Mitchell. Another text told him one of their men had been removed from the field. He'd been stabbed when he tried to break up a fight at the camp where he'd been assigned. The last line of Terrell's text hit the bottom line:

>Find Mitchell before Faber walks. Keep your eyes open and guard up.

He powered down the phone and put it away before he stretched out behind Mercy and spooned her while staying above the blankets. He wouldn't violate her by slipping under the covers without her permission. Earlier had been a necessity to ensure her survival. He could handle a few hours in just his coat.