Mercy (Mercy #1)

by Debra Anastasia

My hands shook more. I stared at them and willed them to stop shaking. I begged them to stop shaking. Mom was shaking before she died.

Mom was shaking before she died. Before he murdered her. I looked at his face, knowing he would kill me too. Not here. Most likely not here. He liked private. He liked closed doors.

I watched as my skin came up between his fingers. I felt the tears. Crying always made it worse. He was going to break my arms. Both my arms. “Hey! Mister! Leave that boy alone.” I felt chills up my spine. We were private. We liked closed doors. No one was allowed to know.

She was a kid. Like me. She put her hands on his forearm and pushed. I was stunned quiet. I was stunned stupid. She wasn’t wearing matching socks and her hair was a giant halo of curls. She had a shiny purse with a stuffed dog sticking out of it and a fistful of coupons. There was a spiral pad with a cat doodled on it popping out of a pocket. Dad took one hand off of me and lifted it. He was going to backhand this little girl. I put my hand up to block him. I saw my death in his eyes then.

It would occur to me years later that she’d never been hit a day in her life. But not now. Now she was a superhero.

This girl was the sun on the darkest horizon. She made dark turn to light.

I knew what she saw. His fingers biting into me like teeth on a tiger. I had so many bruises all over my body that were in the outline of my father’s hand. This new one on my arm would only be unique because it didn’t feel entirely in the safe zone of how my shirts lay. I would wear a long sleeve if I could find it tomorrow. If I made it to tomorrow.

“You’re about to learn how bad I can be.” It was a low growl. It was his home voice. It was his closed-door voice. It was the voice I was never going to get away from.

“I suck this man’s penis. And he’ll do whatever I ask him to do. If you take your eyes off her, I’m sending him to your house.”

I reached toward her with my open hand. If she wanted it, she could have it. My hand. My heart. My life.

Despite the loud music and all the people in between us, Becca saw me, and a welcoming smile spread on her face. Like she’d been waiting for that very second all day. Like she was waiting for me. And just like that, my battered soul had wings.

“Helllllll-o. Loook who’s back. He’s staring at you. Wait. No, he’s smoldering at you. No, that’s eye fucking. Jesus.”

She giggled and I could have punched Godzilla in the dick—it made me feel so manly.

Thank you for being brave when you were just a kid. I couldn’t say it.

And then kissing was art. And Nix was a master. The force in it. The passion in it. The intention in his soft lips made me believe in God and the devil.

I hung my head. Blood dripped from my fist onto the brown rug. “You have a fight in you. It’s still unspent.” I looked at his reflection in the mirror that was unscathed. Animal crossed his arms in front of his vast chest. I spread my hands wide and put them behind my neck and then dragged them down my face. “He never has to face me. He will never face me.” I wiped at my nose with my wrist. “He will.” Animal turned his head.

Animal took the driver’s side and I let him. I was too keyed up to drive sensibly. And that was how you drove a purple Hummer away from the scene of a crime.

“Becca and I kissed and stuff.” I looked out the passenger window. “Baby!” Animal’s voice sounded like a proud seventy-year-old grandma. Even though I knew he was doing it on purpose, I felt my smile start to crack through. “Aw, look at you. You wore your best clothes, washed your man junk, and made moves.” He flailed his hand around like he was overcome. I rolled my eyes at him and gave him a fuck-you stare.

“That’s why your name is on my chest. That’s why I know where you live. I needed to keep you safe because your bravery kept me alive.”

“You are my heart, and this is the first time I’ve ever thought it was worthy of a beat.”

He looked around us. “Your wishes are getting washed away.” I kissed his jaw. “Or they are all coming true at once.”

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

After I hit the button on my TV’s remote, I could watch my father in my living room. I seethed. It was just he and I. Alone after all these years. The inked bones on my skin started to burn. I felt perfectly dressed to deliver death to him.

“I’ll leave tonight. She’ll never see me again.” I dug my fingers into the thin mattress. Julieanne dropped her hand and turned. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart,” she whispered before I heard her heels clack down the hallway. I was shot days ago, but I died in that moment.

Here. With Nix. The dandelions were the fireworks and the fireflies were an absolution.