Mercy

by Debra Anastasia

  I bowed my head. I needed to listen now.

  “He was talking up the salesgirl and telling her how he was coming here. To Midville.”

  I closed my eyes and rolled my head on my neck. Rage fueled through me. And below that—fear.

  I felt Animal clap his big hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. Again, he could just be talking out of his ass.”

  I took deep breaths. I’d killed a lot of men for money—but there always had to be a reason I could get behind. Saving someone, usually. A psychologist didn’t have to tell me I was substituting their deaths for the murder I wanted to commit—my father’s.

  I was trying to save my dead mother. And that was fucked up. I ran my hand down my face.

  “Did you show her the picture? She was sure it was him?” I opened my eyes and looked at my friend.

  He judged my expression for a minute and then reached into the breast pocket of his leather vest.

  “See for yourself.” He handed me a black and white image.

  My father. So many years later, but the shudder ran through me. There was no mistaking his stance. His stupid face was still handsome even with the deep lines.

  “No shit. He really looks like you used to.” Animal took the picture back.

  I inclined my head. I knew I had been the spitting image. I was a monster now to everyone else—but at least not to myself.

  “I’m gonna keep this so you don’t beat yourself to death with it.” I watched as he cringed at his words.

  “It’s okay. I know it’s just a saying.”

  Animal tossed up his hands. “Still. Sorry about that.”

  I needed to change the subject. I needed to process what he’d just told me.

  “You staying here now?” I stood.

  He stood as well. “Yeah. For a while. I want to see if this all shakes out.”

  I held out my fist for a bump. Animal tapped it and then pulled me into a man hug. “Good to see you. Your room is always ready.”

  “Always.” I clapped him on his massive back.

  My father was coming home. And I had never left. I would be ready. Goddammit all to hell. He would benefit from all I’d learned in his absence.

  7

  LONG SCREW

  Becca

  I found out about Meme’s Day of the Dead party after telling Henry about my mom. We’d both had to reapply our makeup twice. She promised me that we would Google the hell out of my mom’s test results together. And I loved her for knowing that I spent a lot of my time bitching about my mother’s expectations, but would go to the ends of the earth to keep her safe.

  The boss had sent a detailed email about the need to push the party a bunch. He was getting attention from investors that wanted to turn Meme’s into a franchise. The place was fairly shitty, so this was interesting news. Bossman was going to spare no expense for the Day of the Dead party. He threw in a few statistics that seemed like he made them up about the increased popularity of the holiday on the Internet—of which he considered himself a master. It was a little hilarious because he still had an aol.com email.

  Henry used her phone to Google it. Day of the Dead was celebrated on October 31st and lasted until November 2nd. and we were almost to summer. I texted Bossman and alerted him to the mistake. He accused me of lying at first, but then came around to just dismissing the traditional holiday by explaining that he wanted to make it a possible year round theme.

  Henry and I shrugged. It would be three days of costumes, drinks, and some traditional foods, even though the timing was off. The advertisements would be everywhere. Next week, it would start. We were each handed an Amazon gift card to buy our costumes for the three days at work. We were encouraged to go hard and sexy. He wanted to see a lot of “tits, bits, and pits”.

  Henry and I made faces at each other. The guy was a complete wacko and didn’t seem like a great authority on a holiday meant to respect the souls of those who had passed, considering he had the timing all wrong. But the plus side was that the costumes should be on sale.

  We all talked about the Day of the Dead event as we prepped to open. I was bartending tonight and Henry teased me with her Converse sneakers as she waitressed. Last year she’d been kidnapped by her ex-boyfriend and his crazy acquaintance and the resulting televised conclusion was what made her an Internet meme. Instead of being jealous of her comfortable outfit, I was still just happy she was okay.

  I happily slipped on my Crocs behind the bar and shined the glasses. I checked my texts. Mom had sent one that she was doing okay. She also mentioned she had seen Alton in Whole Foods just an hour ago.

  I didn’t even roll my eyes. Breast cancer. She shook my core. I’d spent a lot of time getting frustrated with her expectations for me that I let my love for her fall to the side.

  I knew she wanted to make life perfect for me. And getting a good husband was what she knew. Alton was the first customer through the door. Henry approached him and then pointed at the bar.

  He smiled and then weaved through the empty tables to get a seat.

  I passed him a coaster and a napkin. “Hey, Alton.”

  He grabbed my hand as I dropped the napkin. “You all right?”

  “Sure. Why do you ask?” I was having a sneaking suspicion.

  “Well, I ran into your mom and she told me about her diagnosis.” His eyes searched my face with concern.

  It was her right to share, of course. And I was betting that she was still in shock from the serious news. Because Alton was pretty much a stranger and she was sharing her medical history. That he was tall and drove a BMW must have inspired my mother’s confidence.

  “I mean, it’s her body, so my concern is for her. To be there for her.” I tapped my finger in front of him. “What can I get for you?”

  “I’ll take a long, comfortable screw against the wall.” He winked.

  I felt my face blank out. If I had a dollar for every time a douchebag ordered that while leering at me, I’d have a nice pile of cash.

  “I hope you can handle how I like to make those. You’ll need a Tums, a Xanax, and a roll of toilet paper by the time my version is done with you.”

  I saw the hesitation in his expression. “Okay…”

  I mixed up a disgusting mix of a half-shot of rum, half of Jägermeister, and a splash of cherry juice. I put it down in front of him. “Bottoms up.”

  After watching him choke it back, I made him another one. Very few men sip a shot, but Alton managed to. The crowd started to roll in and I was busy enough to avoid him.

  It was just something about him that set off alarm bells in the back of my mind. Alton talked to a few people who sat near him and I had mercy on him and gave him a beer when I had a small break in the action.

  Henry and I had a hand signal we used if we had to save each other from annoying, drunk customers and I hadn’t had to use it. I did catch her looking at me a lot, though.

  As the night wound down, and I’d completed all my tasks, I had to talk to Alton. There was no easy way out of it when I was down to just waiting for the night to pass.

  I figured I could make my mother happy if I had some details to share.

  “You need another refill?” I tapped his glass.

  “No, thanks. Could I trouble you for a water? I want to dilute those shots you gave me before I drive.” He grinned.

  “You took them like a champ, though.” I filled a new glass with the water sprayer.

  “I took the first one like a champ. The second not so much.” Alton took the glass of water from my hand and guzzled it.

  He was handsome. Even when I was trying to avoid it—I couldn’t. He was like a checklist from a men’s magazine with all the boxes ticked.

  “I sell BMWs—I’m not sure if your mom told you?”

  No matter how good Alton was at selling stuff, he had nothing on my mom selling me on a new suitor.

  “They’re great cars. Sexy, stylish. Every man would love to drive one.” I watched as he arranged his face in a
very practiced smolder.

  “Don’t say it,” I offered. “Just don’t say it.”

  “You remind me of a BMW.”

  “You said it.” I patted the bar in front of him. “Let me go get your tab.”

  I was going to give him the drinks for free, but after that cheesy line, he was getting his bill.

  “Wait! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you!” Alton smiled at me when I looked at him again. And then he winked.

  “Does that line ever work for you?” I began ringing him up on the register behind the bar.

  He was quiet until I handed him the tab. Then he responded, “Most of the time. I mean, it worked on my ex-wife.”

  “Sorry to hear about your divorce.” I waited as he pulled out a credit card.

  “Do you take the Black Amex?” He held out the prestigious card.

  “As long as you pay the bill for it, the register will accept it.” He was trying to impress me with his implied wealth. Because I was a girl bartender in a slutty outfit, he assumed he knew about me.

  “You’re a hard one, huh, Becca?”

  I swiped his card through.

  “Not today, I’m not,” I said it more to myself than to him.

  I brought his receipt back and he scribbled a tip in and signed the bottom.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be hitting on you today. It must have been a rough day.” He took his card and put it back in his wallet.

  I regarded him again, surprised to hear him figuring it all out. I shrugged.

  “Listen. Let me give you some time. But if you need anything or your mom needs a ride to any appointments—I’m here and I have access to a whole fleet of cars.” He jotted his number down on his napkin with the pen he’d used to sign his bill. “I promise to be less tone-deaf next time.”

  I took his number and slid it under the bar. “Thanks for the offer.”

  He got up to leave and I shook my head as Henry came over.

  “Alton puts in the long hours.” She slapped her tips on the bar. Meme’s did a shared pool of tips so we all tossed in our singles.

  “He struck out hard.” I started to cash out the register as another waitress locked up the doors.

  “Today is a shitty day to try to get that sweet, sweet Becca tata love.” Henry held out her hand and I slid her phone into it. I couldn’t help but notice the adorable texts from Dick on the screen.

  “For sure. I don’t even want to masturbate tonight. Never mind get freaky with the car salesman.” I grabbed up the glasses from last rounds while the register did its calculations.

  Henry snorted. “Don’t punish yourself forever. The tacos deserve love.”

  I looked at my phone after the glasses were clean and dry. Even in Crocs my feet throbbed after the long hours on them. Mom’s next appointment was in two weeks. She and I would spend a lot of time together. I would either be working out, sleeping, working, or with mom.

  Henry and I took a fun few minutes to pick out our off-season Day of the Dead costumes on Amazon. We each had three fun new outfits, which even though they were racy, they were something new to get excited about.

  “Bossman is getting a dope DJ. So Thursday, Friday, and Saturday of next week is going to be lit.” Henry did some hand signals. I gave her a skeptical look.

  “L-I-T. Lit. Come on. Give it to me. Titty Patty Cake.” Henry threw her arms to the side and thrust her chest out.

  I came at her and we bonked our boobs off of one another like pumped-up football players.

  We were laughing by the time she was done with me. Which I knew was on purpose. As we packed up to leave, she insisted on walking me to my car.

  “You know I want to come to your mom’s first appointment with the oncologist. I’ll just stay in the waiting room.” She bumped into my shoulder.

  Normally, I would tell her not to bother—that I would be okay. I hated taking time away from Dick. But I needed her to be with me and I appreciated the support for my mom and me. “Thanks.”

  My eyes were tearing up again, and the second she saw my face she teared up too. “Oh, Becca, it’ll be okay.”

  Henry and I hugged in the parking lot until she started swaying and turning it into a waltz to make me laugh again.

  She was a great friend and just what I needed. We were finally able to say goodbye and I watched her walk to her car from mine.

  Just before I slipped behind the wheel of my Focus, I saw something in my peripheral vision. When I turned my head, it was gone. I was exhausted. I was stressed. Seeing things came with the territory.

  I still turned the interior lights on at red lights to double and triple check that no one was in the back seat. My car was fine. I was safe. Who’d want to follow me, anyway?

  8

  BASEMENT GIRL

  Fenix

  “You still stalking the fuck out of Basement Girl?” Animal tossed a baseball to me in my living room.

  “Yeah.” There was no point in lying. He knew about Becca. The girl I ran an Internet business for and my only customer. He also knew why.

  My father was a single-minded asshole. After he and I got home from the supermarket when I first met Rebecca—when she stood up to him for me—Dad couldn’t stop saying her full name. He was embedding it in his mind. It was like that before he killed my mother. We knew what he was fixated on because he would never stop muttering about it. Usually Mom ended up paying for whatever slight Dad thought he’d witnessed.

  But Mom was dead when he clamped onto Rebecca’s name like an evil mantra.

  And I knew she wasn’t safe. Nor was my sister. Ember was the reason Dad lost his mind. When he figured out that Ember wasn’t his—that my mom had cheated on him—well, that was the start of the end.

  “You talk to her yet?” Animal caught the ball I threw.

  “Sort of. This morning actually.” I threw it again.

  “How’d that go?” Animal used the ball to gesture to his face.

  My skull tattoo. The skeleton ink.

  “I was covered. She thought I was a delivery guy.” I grimaced.

  “You’re a pussy.” The tiger tattoo crawling down his bicep flexed. He threw the ball harder. I caught it.

  “I know.” I was. For her I was a giant pussy.

  “You’ve been stalking that girl how many years now?” Animal set the ball on my coffee table.

  “I’ve lost count.” Now that was a lie. I sure as shit knew. Down to the day. Sometimes I could figure out the hours.

  “You should give her a chance. She still working at that dump bar?” Animal stood and stretched.

  He was a mountain. So much human being.

  “Yeah.” I stood as well.

  “It’s a public place. Go in. Be you. Say hi. Be less of a creeper and more boyfriend material.” Animal stepped over my coffee table and got into my personal space.

  I looked to my left to avoid the confrontation.

  “Baby, look at me.” Animal snapped near my cheek.

  I looked up at him.

  “You’re a fucking legend. You’re not scared of anything or anyone. Come on. Nut up, Bones.” He put his giant hand on my shoulder.

  “In my head she saves me.” I kicked my floor. The words felt dumb outside of my brain.

  “You don’t need no saving. You’re real. Be yourself. It’s enough.”

  He’d said it before. It was a dare he’d put at my feet more than once. “Yeah, I should do that. I’m gonna do that. Soon.”

  This was where the conversation usually stopped. Where Animal let me off the hook. But not tonight.

  “I’m holding you to that, Bones. You’re gonna be face-to-face for real with this chick before I leave town again.”

  I looked back to his deep brown eyes, ready to argue. Instead, I saw the understanding. He knew what he was asking. He knew it was impossible.

  “That’s a promise, baby. I can’t leave town again until I know you’ve found the balls to do that. What happens to you if I get shot up on the road
or somethin’? You’ll be building claw machines until your dick falls off. You’ll be a nightgown-wearing Mod Podge King. Forever.”

  I felt my smirk lift up on one side. “I think you need to let me live that down.”

  “No, sweetness. Never. I’ve seen your ass in a woman’s nightgown doing papier-mâché and I will not let that slide.”

  “It was my first night at the home. I was confused.” I pushed against his wall of a chest.

  “I saved you like a baby bird that fell out of your damn nest. And I can’t regurgitate your food for you all the damn time. You’re weird, sweetness. I get it. Your papa fucked you up a ton. But I know you got all the normal shit you need to be a man. I’ve seen you fight. This girl is your hard limit. And we’re going to conquer her this visit. So help me God.” Animal patted me on the face a few times.

  “Maybe I’m ready.” I let my intentions flash into my expression when I looked at my only friend.

  He regarded me with his lips turned down for a few beats before responding, “Maybe you are.”

  ~Becca~

  I looked over my shoulder three and four times as I unlocked my apartment door. I wasn’t usually scared of the dark. I believed in defeating a fear for good. And I’d licked that one a long time ago. It wasn’t the dark, but the feeling of observation on the back of my neck that was making me jittery.

  I happily locked my door and threw the chain on. I even went as far as checking the rooms in my apartment and pushing back the curtain on the shower before I whipped my bra off.

  Henry texted a few times and I gave her brief responses, even though I longed to FaceTime her. Before Dick, she and I would FaceTime until we fell asleep on work nights.

  I pulled up my claw game and saw that someone was already playing the machine. I got in digital line because there were stuffed pug dogs this time and I wanted in.

  I propped the phone up so I could watch to see if my turn came up while I undressed for my shower. Just knowing someone else was out there right now playing the game made me feel less alone.

  The hot water was a bit of heaven on my lower back. I scrubbed quickly, and the player was still working on picking a pug up out of the pile.