Magnolia's Mercy

"That's it, honey," she says, grinning. "You're free now. And you've earned a good night's sleep."

I rub my wrists, stretch my legs, and sit up straight in bed, enjoying freedom of movement as I lean against the headboard. Before she walks out through the door, I look up at her from across the length of the room. Something in my expression makes her smile.

"What's the matter, honey?" she asks. "A little too much excitement for one night?"

"No," I say. "I'm grateful for everything. I just didn't expect... Well..."

"...All of that?" she finishes.

I smile faintly.

"I was ready for pain. I was ready for teasing. But I never thought you'd go that far with me. I thought you enjoyed keeping me desperate. Then you went and gave me exactly what I was hoping for," I say.

She laughs.

"I keep telling you, Joe: I'm not a cruel woman," she says. "I might enjoy torturing a man every once in a while. But it ain't about pain, honey. It's about power. I don't need to be cruel to feel powerful. I just need to keep my boys on a razor's edge—never sure what I'm gonna do next. Tonight, you caught me in a merciful mood. Next time, well... We'll just have to see about next time, won't we?"

I raise an eyebrow.

"So there is gonna be a next time?" I ask.

She smiles.

"You can count on it, honey. But don't count on me going easy on you."

This time, both of us laugh.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Miss Maggie," I say.

"Good," she says, satisfied. "But don't be too nervous, either. Remember: I like to hear my boys beg for mercy. But it's no fun making a man beg for mercy if you ain't prepared to give it to him..."