Angel of Mercy (The Fallen)

by Lisa Olsen

  “I can, but I do not need to.”

  Interesting fact that confirmed my earlier theory. “Then why did you come here tonight?” I asked, though I suspected I already knew the reason.

  “To see you,” he answered readily enough.

  “Why?” My head canted to one side and I was reminded of how he had studied me in his apartment.

  His brows drew together as he puzzled over that question. “I don’t know. I have been thinking of you often.” Maybe it was just me but he didn’t seem all that happy about it. “I feel… protective over you.”

  “Well, I’m fine, I can take care of myself.”

  “Do you always dress that way for work?”

  I frowned at that, there was nothing wrong with the way I was dressed. I’d seen plenty of skimpier work outfits at other clubs. All the women employees at Eden wore black vests with no undershirt but they were cut so that all of our important parts were well covered. Unless you unbuttoned a few buttons, which a few of our waitresses had been known to do. For my part I kept them buttoned up, I did too much bending over in my job to allow for too much cleavage to come tumbling out. For bottoms we could wear any kind of black skirt we wanted as long as it was above the knees but long enough to cover the essentials. I usually favored something in between and wore them with a pair of black flats. Even with the rubber floor pads behind the bar, being on your feet for eight hours took its toll in heels.

  Sure my arms were bare as well as a strip of midriff and I sometimes flashed a bit of leg as I reached for something high behind the bar but I wasn’t indecent and it pricked at my temper a little that he was judging me. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” My eyes narrowed at him.

  “Nothing.” Sam looked surprised by my tone and leaned back a few inches as though he was almost afraid of me. “You look very comely.”

  “I look what?”

  “Beautiful,” he amended after a brief search for a more appropriate word.

  “Oh.” I didn’t expect to hear him say that, I suppose a brief shot of Catholic guilt made me th int made ink he wouldn’t approve. I was the one unfairly judging him.

  “I merely wondered because you wore something similar when I first saw you.”

  “Ah, gotcha.” Something flickered over his face and I wasn’t sure if he understood the expression but I chose not to elaborate unless he asked me to. “Was there something you wanted to talk to me about in particular?”

  “No.”

  Again that seemed to be all I was going to get from him, so I smiled and shook my head. “Do you want to dance?” I jerked my head towards the dance floor. It wasn’t something I usually did while working, but then again I didn’t normally have visitors at work either.

  Sam looked appalled at the idea, his gaze riveted to the bodies swaying on the dance floor. “No,” he repeated.

  “Okay… Well, it was nice seeing you again. I gotta get back to work. I’ll see you later.”

  He almost looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just watched me rise from my chair.

  As an afterthought I picked up the beer and took a long drink before heading back to the bar. Might as well get some use out of it if he wasn’t going to drink it.

  “Who’s your friend?” Parker asked, with a nod towards Sam when I slipped back behind the bar.

  “Secret admirer.” I smiled mysteriously, returning to my job. The next time I looked up in Sam’s direction, he was gone, the beer glass empty on the table. The rest of the night passed in a blur. The club was hoppin’ with business and I had little time to think about Sam or anything else.

  After the club closed down, my work station cleaned up and prepped for the next day, el>I retrieved my coat and purse from Parker’s office, noting with a frown that I’d missed three calls from Ben. Three seemed excessive, even if he was broken up about my breaking the date with him, but I dialed up my voicemail to listen to what he had to say.

  The first message was an acknowledgement of mine, saying he was sorry but understood and hoped we could set something else up soon. The second message was a bit more obscure, it asked me to call him as soon as I got the message, no matter what the hour was. The third message sounded even more strained, as if he was worried about me or something important. Again he asked me to call him no matter how late it was once I got the message. Without waiting any longer I called him back.

  “Mercy, thank God,” Ben answered, and a knot of worry settled into the pit of my stomach.

  “What is it? What’s going on?”

  “Sorry, I’ve been up to my eyeballs in… you know what, nevermind. Look, I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out. Charles Weatie was released on bail today.”

  I froze, unsure what to say to that. All I could think of was the guy who had refused to press charges against him. Would Weatie come after me? Obviously the thought crossed Ben’s mind too or he wouldn’t have called me so urgently.

  “Mercy? Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine.” I swallowed, trying to make my voice sound stronger than I felt. “I thought you said you had enough to hold him?”

  “We did, but he managed to come up with bail, over two hundred G’s. I honestly didn’t think he had that kind of juice behind him. I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I replied, feeling anything but.

  “Look, it’s probably nothing<48"hing. He’ll want to walk the straight and narrow until his trial comes up. But I wanted you to know about it, and to tell you to be careful, alright?”

  I nodded into the phone before I realized he couldn’t hear me. “I know how to be careful. But thanks.”

  “Do you want me to come and pick you up from work?”

  “No, I’ll be fine, it’s late. I’ll get someone to walk me to my car and I’ll keep an eye out. What are the odds he even knows who I am and where I live?”

  He was silent long enough for me to start to have doubts on that score, but then he replied. “Listen, I was thinking. Since we missed out on dinner tonight, how about you meet me for breakfast tomorrow?”

  “You think I’m in so much danger you gotta babysit me, huh?” I tried for a joke.

  “Maybe I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been getting that a lot lately,” I muttered, thinking of Sam.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Breakfast sounds good, but I won’t be up super early, occupational hazard.”

  “That’s alright, I’ve learned to eat whenever I get the chance. How about a brunch then? Elevenish at Lolly’s Diner?”

  “That sounds good, it’s a date,” I smiled tiredly.

  “Text me when you’re locked up safe for the night, okay?”

  “I will,” I promised. “Goodnight Ben.”

  “Goodnight Mercy, be safe.”

  “That’s my plan.”

  * * *

  I’d hoped to ask Walter to walk me to my car but he was already gone by the time I got out of Parker’s office. In fact, the place looked deserted, most of the lights dimmed except for the lights behind the bar and up in the DJ booth. “Hello?” I called out, surprised at how my voice carried across the empty club.

  “Up here.” I heard Parker call out from the DJ booth.

  Crossing the dance floor, I went up to the booth where Parker lay on his back, adjusting something under the console.

  “Hey,” I smiled down at him. Parker is a hands on kind of guy. If he can fix it himself and save a buck, he will.

  “Hey, darlin’. How are you feeling? You seemed to keep up pretty good,” he commented from under there.

  “I’m okay, a little tired, but no more than usual,” I admitted. It was crazy to think I almost died a few days before.

  “Good,” Parker said shortly, intent on his work.

  “So,nt> I was wondering, could you maybe walk me to my car?”

  That got his attention, and he leaned up on his elbows, head ducking out to catch sight of me. “Somet
hing wrong?”

  “The cops called, that guy got out on bail. It’s probably nothing but…”

  “Sure I can, no problem,” he answered readily. “Give me a minute to finish this and I’ll lock up and leave with you.”

  “Thanks,” I smiled more to myself than him because he was already ducking back under there again. It surprised me that he was willing to leave already, because I knew a ton of paperwork awaited him, but I guessed he’d leave it for the next day. He really was a good guy at heart, we just didn’t get much of an opportunity to see that side of him on a day to day basis. Idly I wondered why that was, while I waited for him.

  I knew he wasn’t a completely selfish bastard, bent on the bottom line and nothing else, but it was definitely the vibe he put out, at least to the new hires. But he was also more than willing to help out with a cash advance when someone got in a financial jam. And when Marci (one of our past waitresses), left to get married, he’d thrown her a reception at the club, closing it down for a big private party, free of charget dee of c. Why did people put forth only parts of themselves?

  I still mulled that over when he came out of the booth, wiping his hands off on his pants. In a few minutes we were out in the parking lot. While he locked up, my eyes strayed to the shadows, nervously expecting something to jump out at us at any moment. We were obliged to park at the far end of the parking lot, the closer spots reserved for paying customers only. Even Parker kept his car at the far end though he could have easily taken the perk and parked closer.

  “You okay, kid?”

  I couldn’t help but jump at his voice by my ear, I hadn’t even heard him finish with the door and come up behind me. “I’m fine, just a little weirded out by this guy,” I replied, falling into step beside him as we walked to our cars. Mine a beat up Ford Escort that was old enough to vote. His silver Camaro, less than a year old, was prettier than anything I owned.

  “You want me to follow you home, make sure you get there alright?” There he was surprising me again.

  “No, don’t be silly, I’ll be fine. I’m a little jumpy is all.”

  “You sure? I could come up and we could… rub each other’s feet or something.” He gave me a wolfish grin.

  Really? He was using it as an excuse to hit on me? “Parker… I’m not even gonna start to explain in how many ways that’s a bad idea,” I began.

  “What? I’m just talking about seeing you home safe.” An innocent expression replaced the predatory grin.

  “Uh huh. And who’s gonna keep me safe from you?” I smirked.

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Parker smiled goodnaturedly, and I wondered if the come on had been for my benefit to get me to relax or if he really was interested? Either way, he was my boss and there was no way I was going to go there, sexy smile or no. Still, I did feel easier as we approached my car without incident.

  “Thanks again, Parker, I’ll see you on Tuesday night.” Sundays and Mondays were my usual days off.

  “No problem, kid. Take it easy,” he waved, already moving towards his car.

  Chapter Seven

  The drive home went smooth as silk, and there was no sign of anyone suspicious around my apartment building. It was a little surprising to find no sign of Sam anywhere around, but just as quickly as that thought popped up I pushed it from my mind. I had gotten>years, I could certainly make it home without a heavenly escort. Feeling pleasantly tired, I was eager to get to bed and wake up in time for my brunch date with Ben. Going through my normal nighttime routine, I washed my face and brushed my teeth, changing into a tank top and loose fitting sleep pants.

  To this day I don’t know for sure how long he’d been in there, watching me change or if he’d just stepped into my bedroom. But when I looked up, I saw him standing in my doorway… my attacker. His aura seemed even more diseased and virulent than before, if that was possible, the effect mirrored in his eyes that burned with something dark and terrible.

  I backed up towards the bed, trying to draw him away from the doorway. My hope was I could somehow get past him, though I had no idea how to actually accomplish it.

  Weatie stepped forward, a faint smile on his face. “There now, you don’t look like you’ve been attacked at all, not a scratch on you from what I could see.” Yeah, he’d seen me change alright, or was he just trying to get a rise out of me? “Don’t make me hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you.” His hands came up in a supplicating gesture, but I could see in his eyes that he did, he was looking for an excuse to hurt me. He would enjoy hurting me the way some people enjoyed painting with watercolors or playing golf. It was part of who he was.

  “Shit…” I took another backwards step.

  “I need you to forget you ever saw me in that alley, can you do that for me, honey?” h Roman">e asked in a reasonable tone. “Better yet, how about that other guy attacked you and I stepped up to help? Pulled the knife out of you, yeah, I like that. That makes me the hero type, I like that a lot. You think you can remember all of that, girlie?”

  It was almost worse when he spoke in such a reasonable tone, that scared me more than if he’d been growling or menacing. “I could do that…” I nodded, voice shaking as my legs backed up against the bed. I was willing to say anything in that moment if it kept him from attacking me, but somehow I didn’t think I’d get off so lucky.

  “Good, you’re an obedient little thing aren’t you? I like that.” He took a step closer, then another.

  Running out of places to go, I backed up onto the bed, moving steadily away from him.

  “On the bed, I like where you’re going with that,” he smiled his approval while my stomach lurched. “Your name is Mercy isn’t it? I like that too. I could use a little mercy, Mercy.”

  A soft cry escaped my lips as I scurried backwards, and as my feet cleared the edge of the bed he was on me, pinning me beneath him. My hands came up to push against his shoulders, for all the good it did, he seemed impossibly strong. I opened my mouth to scream, and he clamped a hand over my mouth.

  “You know how to beg for mercy, Mercy? I like to hear a woman scream, but we don’t have time for that today.” His other hand was busy, and not at all gentle like his tone of voice.

  Tears burned my eyes as I struggled beneath him, having trouble breathing with the restrictive hand over my mouth. Even though it wouldn’t do any good, I found myself screaming against his hand, shoving with all my weight, every muscle and tendon straining against him. Every fiber of my being intent on pushing him away made absolutely no difference, he was far too strong for me.

  So you can understand my utter shock and amazement when all of a sudden there was a blindingly, white flash of light and he fell slack against me.

  I gave another great heave and he rolled back against my bed, temporarily knocked out but starting to stir already, a groan issuing from his throat as he brought a hand to his head. Not needing any more invitation than that, I flew off the bed, backing towards the door, unwilling to take my eyes off of him. I had no idea what happened, but I didn’t want to stick around and find out how long it would last.

  Luckily, I had the presence of mind to grab my purse and coat on the way out of the apartment, I only wish I’d been smart enough to think of shoes. All the way down the stairs I kept expecting him to grab me from behind and drag me back into my apartment, but I was too scared to look back and check if he was following me. As my bare feet slapped against the cold, wet sidewalk, I slowed enough to dig my keys out of my coat pocket.

  My heart pounded a mile a minute while my shaking fingers tried to get the right key into my car door. Right about then I was wishing for a newer car with a remote to unlock the door, but truth be told, I just hoped to God the car would start at all. Finally, I got the thing open and felt a measure of comfort at locking the door, feeling the solid metal and g Cd mmfolass insulating me from the cold, and more importantly, from Charles Weatie.

  Daring to dart a glance at the building’s exterior door, I couldn’t see him
anywhere, and took that as a good sign. For a change, my old Escort roared to life on the first try and my murmured words of praise for the little maroon car were immediately swallowed by the gunning of the engine as I peeled out of there. It was a good three blocks before I relaxed enough to pry my hands from the steering wheel and dug for the cell phone in my purse.

  I should point out that I do know you’re not supposed to drive while on your phone in the state of Washington unless you’re on a Bluetooth. All I can say in my defense, is I’d rather have paid for a ticket if it brought a cop to my side at that particular moment, than to stop and make the call with that psycho out there after me. As it was, the traffic was light enough at that late hour that I wasn’t in great danger of running into anyone anyway. Still, I waited until I hit my first traffic light to scroll through for Ben’s number. “Come on pick up…” I muttered nervously as it rang, toes twitching against the brakes as I waited for the light to turn green.

  Ben answered after the third ring, his tone low and urgent. “What’s wrong?”

  “He was here, he was in my house.” My voice shook more than I would have liked, adrenaline still pumping like mad.

  “Who, Weatie?”

  “Yes, he was in my bedroom,” I swallowed, forcing myself not to speed forward when the light changed, but obey the speed limit. I was safe, right?

  “Christ… are you… did he…?” Ben didn’t seem to want to come right out and ask if I’d been assaulted. Csauont>; I couldn’t blame him, I couldn’t imagine how the call would have gone if that divine intervention hadn’t happened. At least I assumed it was divine intervention, who knew what Sam’s Grace had done to me?

  “No, I’m fine, I got away, but… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go. I can’t go to Matty’s, what if he comes after him too?” My words tumbled out on top of each other.

  “Alright, calm down, where are you now?”

  “I’m in my car driving south on Southeast Harold. I know, I’m not supposed to drive and talk on the phone but…”