Mercy

by Debra Anastasia

  I’d have to explain some things to her. She was probably assuming I sold drugs. Hell, that was what I would assume.

  I held out my hand. “Come on.”

  She snuggled my arm and I led her into the bathroom. “Bath or shower?”

  “Wow.”

  The bathtub was insane. I rarely used it. It was here when I bought the house and the jets in it were good for recovering from beatings.

  “I think I’d fall asleep in there.” Her lips were blue and her teeth were chattering.

  “I got you.” I programmed the shower and put the music on from the outside. The overhead rain shower combined with the ten other showerheads to make a waterfall.

  I dimmed the bathroom lights a little and opened the shower door. “All ready. I mean, I didn’t put it too hot. I like it crazy hot. It makes me all red.”

  I was just putting words into the room. We’d already had sex, but I was nervous. The thunderstorm fuck-fest was like a dream. But here in my shower, having her seemed very, very real.

  I could be a once in a lifetime mistake for her. She could come to her senses.

  Becca sighed and peeled off my trench coat.

  Her body was perfect. Her curves were a salve to my eyes.

  After sliding off her damp panties, she walked into the shower and immediately started washing her face. I stepped in behind her and tapped on the gray metal that faded into a mirror.

  “I look a wreck.” She scrubbed harder.

  I got her a fresh washcloth from the stack on the built-in shelf.

  “Thanks.” She took it from me.

  I watched her because I was literally incapable of doing anything else. She was letting me. She knew my eyes were on her and it was okay.

  “Now I’m here, all lit up with no makeup. You can see my stomach pudge and how my thighs touch.” Becca covered her stomach with one hand and her thighs with the other.

  It was sacrilegious that she’d ever think anything other than beauty about her body.

  She was my altar. Her face was home and hope. I grabbed both her wrists and held them out. She giggled a little nervously and shifted her weight from one foot to another.

  “Don’t look so close.”

  She was blushing. I walked into her until she was pressed against the tile. Shyness was what she was radiating.

  “I don’t know how to fix that part in your head that tells you that you’re anything but perfect.” I let her wrists go so I could touch her face. This was my favorite Becca. No makeup. No clothes. Just her gorgeous face and her bravery. “But I do know that having you here, with me, makes me believe I might be worth something to…” I wanted to say “her,” but that was too much. I recognized I’d asked a lot of her so far, and I’d ask for more. She didn’t know how important she was to me—I mean a little, but not the full extent. I settled on “people”.

  She seemed to get what I was trying to tell her. I put my hand between the thighs she was just complaining about.

  “This spot in the universe?” I put my fingers over her, thumbing her. “It’s all I think about. Like, always. I can think of all kinds of things, but this,” I gently inserted my index finger, “is like my brain’s wallpaper.”

  She started laughing, and I tried not to for a few seconds before joining her.

  Maybe it was exhaustion, or how new we were, but the laughter took on a life of its own. I had to use both of my hands to hold her up, she was laughing so hard.

  She sank to the floor and I stood there, laughing with her.

  It took a while for her to wind down.

  Eventually, she shook her head.

  “You’re too good for me not to do this.” She twirled her wet hair into a bun. First, it was just licking. Then she added her hands. Next, she took as much of me she could into her mouth.

  She hinted at a smile as I started to curse. After popping off my dick, she told me, “You’re amazing to watch. The ink combined with your muscles is incredible.”

  I tipped my head back and cursed some more. She was giving me the best blowjob of my life.

  “You’re not looking at me, though. Look at me, Nix. See me do this to you.”

  I put my chin on my chest and opened my eyes reluctantly. Part of me didn’t want to see her on her knees.

  The water was pouring over her head. Another stream coursed down my chest. I wanted to embed the sight of her with my dick in her mouth in my brain forever, because if I got to see my life flash behind my eyes before I died, this image would be amazing to expire to.

  It was like she could sense I was having a dilemma in my head. After circling the tip with her tongue and nibbling on the underside, she took a break to tell me, “I want to make you feel how you made me feel.”

  Then she was back at it. And thought ceased being something I could do. I put my hands on the tile so I wouldn’t collapse as she got more creative and bold.

  She had my balls in her hand at first before getting even lower and licking underneath them.

  I was going to lose the battle against coming so hard I would blow a hole in the back of her head.

  “Stop. Jesus. Stop.” I was more of a man than I thought when I was able to back away from her mouth.

  A sharp stab of jealously followed her self-satisfied smile. It wasn’t her fault she was so good at this. She hadn’t known all those years she was mine, but she would now. I put my hand under her chin.

  “Off your knees.”

  I helped her up with my other hand, not wanting her to slip on the tile.

  It was then I remembered her bruises. “Are you okay?” I noticed the tile marks on her kneecaps. I hadn’t even thought of giving her towel. I was so selfish.

  She didn’t look disappointed with me.

  “Nix, I feel like I need to be boned.” She traced the bones on my hips.

  “You don’t have to ask twice.” I stepped out of the shower and held out my hand to her. When she was on the bath mat, I grabbed a fluffy towel and enjoyed the hell out of drying her off. I wasn’t good at the hair, though, eventually just covering her head like she was impersonating a ghost.

  I dried myself as well, my giant hard-on springing around like a lovesick asshole. She was still here. With me. In my house.

  Her skin was pink from the heat of the shower. She must have been tired, but that wasn’t going to stop me from taking my boner out on her.

  I picked her up and held her close. She was naked in my arms and smiling. I felt the heat from the love in my chest pass through every vein in my body. This was everything I never imagined I would have.

  “When you look at me like that...” She put one hand on my cheek.

  I wanted her to say too much. Profess things that no normal human would commit to now.

  I walked her over to my bed and set her on it. When she stretched out at the foot of my bed and arched her back, I almost forgot what she was saying, but she continued, “I feel like we’ve known each other every day since that day in the supermarket. Like we’ve been friends all the minutes between then and now.” She turned onto her side, and I was supposed to crawl over her, get into the spoon position, make amazing sex happen.

  But her words stopped me. All those years, in my mind and somehow deep inside, I’d felt like we were connected. That it wasn’t luck she was in that store—but fortune.

  I kneeled down in front of her and took her hand when her whole incredible body was available for touch. I kissed her knuckles and then the tip of her index finger. “There were times. A lot of times—when you were the only person on the planet that cared about me. Well, I told myself you cared. And it got me through nights...” I turned a little to show her my back. The ink covered a lot of it. But in the bright light of my bedroom, I knew she’d see there were scars. Deep, persistent scars. “…where I was positive I was going to die. I wanted you to be my last thought.”

  I turned back to face her and saw she was devastated. “Oh, sweet boy.”

  “No, it’s okay. This is a hap
py story now.”

  She sat up, swinging her legs around. I inched forward on my knees. Becca held out her arms. When I was between her thighs, she hugged me. I rested my head on her chest. I could hear her heartbeat. I felt her kiss the top of my head.

  “You were right. You weren’t alone. I was with you.” Her hands spanned my back, smoothing over the ruined skin there.

  She was starting to heal me all over again. When she was a kid, she did it from my broken insides to my outside. And, now as a woman, she seemed determined to fix me in the reverse.

  Her bravery was what slayed me. Then and now. She was still my hero.

  ~Becca~

  Holding this man seemed like the only thing in the universe I was meant to do. I remembered him. His face. His eyes from that day in the supermarket. The memory updated with the information that Nix had suffered that evening. At least he’d remembered that I cared.

  I felt the ridges of his past pain with the pads of my fingertips. I was trying to revere him in the deep way he seemed to feel about me. My empathy made my heart feel like it was sinking in the sorrow he must have felt.

  I had a lot more to learn about Nix. He said his father had murdered his mother. There must have been a trial. I would’ve missed all that because, well, I was just a kid. Where had he been after the supermarket? Were these marks there when I first met him?

  I looked again. They were literally countless. The tattooed spine and ribs he’d used to try to cover these marks were wavy. Like a drawing on crumpled paper. So much pain.

  The tattoos made even more sense. I was angry I hadn’t done more. I might never get over that feeling.

  I had a pretty crappy memory—for the most part. But the day I met Nix was crystal clear. And that evening, my father had chided me when I explained what happened. He tried to excuse away what I’d seen as discipline. To tell me the kid I met was fine. And then I got a lecture about my big mouth that I never listened to. I couldn’t stop myself from popping off when I felt like I needed to speak up. Later that night, my dad told me that he was divorcing my mom.

  I pulled gently on Nix’s shoulders. I wanted the weight of his body on mine. Yes, he was sexy and was ripped in a lean, strong way. But I needed the soul in his body as close as I could get it to the soul in mine.

  He slowly got to his feet and I scooted back a bit, then lay back. I watched the lust cloud his scrutiny. I held out my arms again.

  “Be on me. Be with me.”

  He lay on top of me, tucking his arms under my shoulder blades. Chest to chest. Hips to hips. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He slipped inside me, because it made the most sense.

  I knew he wasn’t protected, and I knew that was a mistake. I ignored that and wrapped my hands behind his head, forcing our eye contact.

  “I am so, so sorry that happened to you.” I hoped he could feel my sincerity.

  “I would do it all again. Every day. And every night. If it ended with me right here with you in this moment.” I felt his sincerity.

  And like I knew Nix’s father was evil, just knew it like we’d met in a past life, I knew Nix was speaking his truth. Whatever “it” was. The “it” that made him lose his mother. The past that had covered him in so many wounds. His back was a map of pain. The history that caused him to cover himself in permanent ink so he didn’t have to see his own face in the mirror. He would do it all again to be with me.

  I didn’t have any verbal response. I just kissed him. I shifted my hips to take him all the way in.

  He groaned. Nix seemed as lost in the sensations as I was. I met him with every stroke. I gently bit his shoulder. He took all his weight on one arm so he could palm my breast and tease the nipple. In the full light, I was on fire with the want of him. I ran my hand down his chest and looked between us watching as he entered me over and over.

  He stiffened. “I’m not wearing a…”

  I kissed him again. Then I spoke against his lips, “I trust you with my life.”

  Nix’s eyes rolled in his head briefly. “Sweet hell.”

  It wasn’t sex. It wasn’t fucking.

  We made love. We were desperate for each other. Ships could sink around us; bombs could explode. It was only the two of us. The hot breath and glistening sweat, whispered prayers and groaned curses. We were with each other in a way that celebrated the fate that was determined to have us together.

  When Nix came, I used my legs to keep him inside me. We kissed as he pulsed. More curses. My name. Lots of my name.

  There were things we should say. Talk about the unprotected sex we’d just had. That I might have quit my job. His mother. His past. The attacks on my apartment and much more. Instead, he eased down beside me and put his bicep under my head. I traced the ink on his face with my fingers as I felt his warmth seep from inside me. I put my head on his chest.

  My eyelids got heavier with every blink until there was only his heartbeat in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

  26

  TEA PARTY

  Becca

  Nix was gone when I woke in the morning. I was still naked, but covered and tucked in. There was a note and a phone on the pillow next to my head. His handwriting was neat, and somehow that broke me a little. Thinking of the pain he endured, that at some point he was a kid hunched over a desk perfecting his print. My handwriting was a mess.

  Becca,

  You look so amazing asleep. You make little kitten noises when you roll over. Thank you so much for last night. I had to do a few things today, but I will be back as soon as I can. If you can stay, please do. Here’s a phone for you to contact your people. I try to keep this address private, but in case you need it, here we go:

  44867 Tippet Road

  My phone number: 555-345-9871

  He signed it with a quick drawing of a skull.

  I held the phone. I should call my mom and Henry. In that order. Maybe I could text Henry while talking to Mom.

  I propped myself to sitting in the bed and looked unabashedly around Nix’s bedroom.

  It was the most expensive room I’d ever been in. How the hell did a guy covered in a skull tattoo make this much money? I mean, a bank job or whatever was out of the question.

  Maybe online?

  I felt a twist in the pit of my stomach. I was having a sinking feeling that it wasn’t on the up and up. The art was fascinating, but somehow distant. I got up, wrapped the sheet around me, and tucked it in by my boobs.

  The bedroom was almost bigger than my apartment. Some girls would think they won the dick lotto if this was where they were banged last night.

  But I was piecing this puzzle together. He had a horrible childhood. He was secretive. He was loaded, and he wasn’t Batman. This was real life, and some decisions were made here by Nix in some way.

  I had a glimmer of hope. Maybe he had roommates that made this whole setup more feasible.

  There was a little sitting area. It reminded me of a hotel. It lacked the hominess a house usually had. No pictures.

  No snapshots of him. No pictures of family or friends.

  I twisted the sheet in my hand. This man, this person whom I’d gone to another level with—he had demons I had no idea about.

  I went into the bathroom to freshen up. I washed my face and did a quick cleanup with a washcloth. I would’ve taken a shower, but I had no clue how to turn it on.

  I couldn’t find a brush, and I didn’t want to go digging. I twirled my messy hair into a bun and brushed my teeth with my finger. As soon as I was presentable, I searched for some clothes. I found sweatpants and a black T-shirt on a shelf in his vast closet in what seemed to be the workout section.

  After my stomach growled audibly, I grabbed the phone and then headed downstairs. The place seemed empty. It was insane. The view from the living room was of the mountains in the distance. The floor-to-ceiling windows made it impossible to miss the stunning landscape.

  Marble was everywhere. There was plenty of stuff, but somehow the place still seemed sparse
. I sat on the couch and texted Henry.

  Hey lady, it’s Becca.

  She responded: WHAT IS GOING ON?

  Before I could text an answer, the phone in my hand rang.

  “How big is it?” Henry got to the good parts.

  “I’m satisfied,” I answered.

  “Where are you right now?” Henry mumbled something to Dick or one of their many animals.

  “I’m where I was last night.” I didn’t know how to categorize where I was. Nix’s house? Some sort of man compound?

  “As long as you’re safe. Hey, the cop called me this morning and wanted to pass on the information that your apartment was clear for you to go back to. He tried your phone…but…”

  That was good news that scared me a little. “Okay.”

  Animal cleared his throat.

  “I’ll call you back.” I ended the call.

  “You didn’t have to hang up because of me. I just wanted to let you know I was in the room.” He folded his huge form in the couch across from me.

  “It’s fine. I’m not sure what to tell her anyway.” I plucked at a fuzzy on Nix’s shirt.

  “You’re safe here, if that helps.” He put his hands behind his head.

  He inspired confidence. Animal had the physique of a comic book hero, but the warmth in his eyes was very real.

  “Henry was just telling me that my apartment’s ready to be occupied again.” I put the phone next to me on the cushion.

  “And that makes you frown because?” He waited with an open expression.

  “Well, I mean, I like feeling in control when I’m home. And the attack and the bricks—well, it’s all just making me think.” I looked out the giant window. The only way to get my courage back was to act like I had it.

  “What do you got for protection?” He shifted and took his hands from behind his head.

  I wasn’t sure what he meant. “Condom-wise? Or…”

  I was cut off by his deep laughter. I felt the answering smile on my face when I realized he wasn’t talking sexually.

  “That’s good too, but I mean, you have a handgun or something?” Animal stood up.