Mercy

by Debra Anastasia

  Had there been another woman? Women?

  My throat was dry as he shrugged off his hoodie. He tugged his white shirt off and tossed it in the corner.

  Then he advanced until we were close enough to touch. “I never got to thank you.” He took to his knees so his chest was between my legs.

  I touched his face. So many daydreams I had of his face. To have it here. I leaned forward and kissed his forehead, then brushed my lips to his temple, kissing him there too.

  He stopped talking and closed his eyes. Like I was a bird that had landed on a tripwire. Like I was dangerous to him.

  His eyes were heavy lidded when he opened them again. “Thank you for killing my father.”

  I sat back a little. “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to apologize—I mean, I made you an orphan.”

  He put his hands on my hips. “No, you made me a king. Never apologize. You’re an angel to me. Only his death brought me peace. And, above and beyond that, you had the faith in me to get this…” I smiled as he traced my ink again with his thumbs.

  “You were forever for me. I needed everyone to know that I was meant for you.” I turned my head and kissed his fingers.

  “I knew you were part of my destiny when we were kids.” He raked through his hair with the other hand. “But, I have to tell you this—I’ve killed a lot of people. I don’t want secrets from you. You deserve to know.”

  “We’re both killers,” I pointed out. I did have a question, and it was the most loaded one. “You have to tell me why you left. I’ve been waiting.”

  Hesitation passed over his handsome features.

  “Just tell me.” I was afraid that this answer would change things.

  “I promised your mom I’d leave you be.” He looked at my lap. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  Relief. Anger—of course, but having Nix leave after I killed his father had been eating away at me.

  “I forgive you.” This man carried too much guilt, and I was unable to free him from most of it. But I could give him this.

  His stunning eyes flashed up at me. “So quickly? Just like that?”

  “Of course. It’s you.” I grabbed his arms and pulled on them. I wanted to be blanketed by his presence.

  “Listen. Just so you know, I can get you back to your life. You can put makeup on your tattoos. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

  I bobbed my head up and down. “I get what you’re saying, but I’d rather die in your arms right now than live without you for a hundred years.”

  “Okay. That’s settled.” The light in his eyes showed me how happy he was. I ran my hand down his chest and put it on his heart tattoo. There was a new name, Christina.

  “Someone new?” I didn’t want to be jealous, but of course, I was. That was when he launched into his story about the little girl he’d saved and how he felt responsible for helping her stay safe. Then he showed me the pony on his wrist. His chest was so complicated it took a while for me to see the dandelion puff. And then Nix pointed out all the little seeds scattered around his heart.

  The tattoo was not new.

  “You must have gotten this a while back.” I put my lips on the flower.

  I felt his exhale ruffle my hair. “Yes. Over a year. I’ve been meant for you, too.”

  It was the way he said the words, like he couldn’t believe this conversation was happening to him, that spoke to my heart. I wanted him to be so used to feeling love that he woke up unsurprised by my devotion.

  He found the string holding up my corset and pulled on the end until it was loose. He shimmied it over my hips once there was enough room. I kicked off my shoes and unfastened my pants. Nix helped me out of those as well.

  He ran his fingertips from my ankles to my neck, claiming me and admiring the splashes of colors I’d added while we were apart.

  Waiting all this time to stand in front of him like this was almost worth the way his touch between my legs felt. I bent my knees right away, trying to get more from him.

  “Impatient.” He said it as more of a compliment than an admonishment.

  Feeling his shoulders, I told him he was stronger than he used to be. Broader. The muscles were sharper, his definition deeper.

  “I worked out when I missed you, and that was a lot.” He ran his hands from in between my legs to my spine, putting us chest to chest.

  “I feel like miss isn’t a hard enough word for how I felt.” He was carefree and we were together. My soul was buzzing being so close to his.

  He touched his forehead to mine. “Yeah, I do know of something that is hard enough now.” He rocked forward and what he was offering made me groan.

  “Maybe we don’t wait anymore.” I kissed his neck and nipped at the tattooed skin there. I was urgent. I had been changed since we were together last. I wanted to come at him with this version of myself. Confident. Strong.

  Nix walked into me until I backed up, knees bending when the mattress came into contact. I lay back. He took his jeans, shoes, and socks off. He was in front of me looking every bit as glorious as before. I knew what I wanted first. I reached for him and directed him to put his knees on either side of my chest. I laid the length of him between my breasts and pressed them together to create a cradle for his cock. The tip was within tongue’s reach, so I used it when he started rocking back and forth.

  I felt his hand searching for me as I treated him as well as I could in the position I was in. He was cursing and saying my name. He touched the ink on my face over and over as if he was reminding himself it was real.

  All of a sudden his movement stopped. “I have to taste you.”

  He was fast as he turned over. His mouth was on my pussy while I sucked on his dick.

  I wasn’t ready for the onslaught. His mouth and fingers hit me in tandem. I cried out as the sensations shuddered through my body. He was using his muscles to keep his weight off of me. The only way I could handle it without tipping into my orgasm was to focus on him as much as I could. I used my hands to massage the parts of him that were close now.

  I thought we might stop, that he would turn around and come inside me, but we were both too lost. He warned me hoarsely that he was close, but I ignored him. The suction mixed with a swirl of my tongue combined with the massage behind his balls stalled his adoration of me. He came in my mouth and I swallowed, sucking him through his entire orgasm. He was punching the mattress as his muscles coiled.

  He collapsed on his side and held his cock. “Holy hell, I’m dead. That killed me.”

  I was still throbbing for him. He slid off the bed and grabbed his chair, scooting to the edge of the bed.

  He lifted my legs and draped them over his shoulders.

  His hands were still shaking a little from what I had done to him.

  “Get me a pillow.”

  This was new, but I was willing to do whatever he said to put myself out of misery. He propped the pillow under me.

  “This. You. I’m never walking away from you again.” Nix looked from between my legs to my face. It was different than lust.

  The look in his eyes was forever.

  Nix brought me to orgasm in a way that made the one I had given him seem like a joke.

  When I was positive I was done and could go no further, he readjusted my legs and held them by the ankles. He entered me. Having him inside me after all this time was what I could subsist on. His sheer leg strength was something to behold. He was faster and deeper than ever before. He let go of my legs and pressed them open further, finally letting me add to the thrusts. Feeling the lust and the love at the same time was a delicious torture. Nix dragged his mouth from one of my breasts to the other, his expression volatile. He moved me back further on the bed with each of his blunt bucks. I was wasted for him.

  Maybe it was the ink that was so goddamn attractive. Maybe it was the furiousness in which he chased our pleasure. Some of it had to be how intense this man was about me.

  This time we arrived at our pea
ks close to the same moment. He roared and I whispered my surrender.

  ~Fenix~

  She calmed the chaos in my head. Her skin, her scent, her heartbeat. She was my talisman. My fortune.

  That she was with me again. There was something different about her now. Like there had been a reckoning I wasn’t here to see. Brazen. The quality in her that gave her the courage to speak when others held their tongue—she wore that on her skin now. It surrounded her like a visible aura.

  I felt safer when we were together. She said she’d rather die tonight with me than live without me. The obsession I had for her seemed healthy now. Reciprocal now.

  She turned toward me, her curves looking like a fancy medieval painting. I could tell that Lauren had done the ink on my girl. The quality was a thumbprint. It was more than color choice, but the placement that highlighted the kindness in Becca’s eyes that made it a masterpiece.

  I put my hand on the center of her chest. “You saved me when I was kid. Now, as an adult, I hope I can give you at least half of the peace your existence has brought me.”

  There weren’t enough words in my head to let her know that she expanded me. Made living bearable. Crap, I was looking forward to tomorrow.

  She put her hand on the center of my chest as well, her thumb over her name. “You deserve good things. And devotion. And all the love. I’d like you to stop killing people—if possible. And I’ll try to keep that to a minimum too. You have to do whatever you have to so that you come home to me every day. Nothing else will do.”

  I could feel her heartbeat. I pulled her close and cuddled her into me. “Anything for you, love.”

  I heard her happy hum. We were together. Just two skeletons in love.

  43

  RECKONING

  Becca

  We made my mother come to me. It was time. She had to face what her intentions had done.

  I fussed with my apartment. While we waited, Nix and I decided it was time to reclaim his house and move in together there. It had been vacant for while Nix was gone.

  So technically, that was what this meeting was about. I’d spoken to my mother on the phone a few times. I found myself avoiding the confrontation I knew we needed. Her PET scan was clean, so a celebration was necessary—if she was still willing to call me her daughter.

  I asked Nix to wait in my bedroom. He sat on my comforter, holding my stuffed llama. I’d rescued my claw machine prizes soon after I had thrown them from my apartment a year ago. I couldn’t leave them out there like trash.

  Nix’s face was a mask of calm. He could be a professional gambler possibly.

  Because a lot rested on this meeting and I knew it was going to be a doozy, I had toyed with thoughts of using cover-up make up on my tattoo. But then I was scared I wouldn’t have the guts to wipe off the products hiding my true self. So instead, I was barefaced. I had on a tank top and jeans and flip-flops on my feet. My tattoo scrolling up my foot was visible. There was no hiding what I was into now.

  My mother knocked on my front door. I hollered that it was open. And waited.

  Alton had work today, so I was expecting Mom to be alone and she was.

  The moment I was dreading happened. My mother’s perfectly made up face went from a smile to the very definition of crestfallen.

  She slammed the door behind her like she’d walked in on me naked and wanted to preserve my dignity.

  “Yes, it’s real. No, it’s not a prank.” I needed to get that information out in the open. Shoot the hope down before it got a chance to form.

  “Rebecca, what have you done?” My mother, who seconds ago had been ready to embrace me, was staring at me like I was a monster.

  “I got tattoos. I’m a tattoo artist now.” I tucked my hands behind my back. They would give away my nerves.

  Seeing my mother cave in on herself was always what I was actively trying to prevent.

  “How could you? How dare you? It’s a joke. It’s a horrible joke. Your beautiful face.” Mom sat down right where she was on my living room floor. Her keys were tossed aside and found their way into the kitchen. The contents of her purse spilled out. There were two handkerchiefs and a fold up hat. To cover her hair—of course. It was sparse now. It must be growing back slowly. She must have removed the hat to enter my place. To show me her achievement. She’d come to rest close to the spot where I had killed Nix’s father.

  I didn’t want her there, so I went to her and offered her my hands to help her.

  She didn’t take them, just covered her face with her own hands. “You were so beautiful.”

  I felt my holy shit expression forming on my face. The use of the past tense was a blow. The beginning of the punishment she’d spend the rest of her life doling out to me.

  I centered myself. I was more now. I was Becca. I’d survived a man trying to kill me. I’d created my true self in the absence of Nix. I could confidently carve colors into people’s skin permanently.

  I got on one knee and moved my mother’s arms away from her face. Her mascara was running.

  “Mom. Mom.” I used my voice to snap her back into reality. Into looking at me. She sobbed again. I waited.

  “Mom, you have to listen to me. If you even love me a little.” Maybe it was the force in which I spoke. Or the fierce way I was determined that she would hear me, but she quieted.

  “I love you.” I let go of her arms and sank to both my knees. “But I choose me.” I was scared that I was making another orphan in that horrible spot. I pulled from the same pool of courage that I’d visited when I fought for my life over a year ago. “I am this. I am proudly this.” I pointed to my face. I turned my hands over and let her see the ink on my arms. So many new ways I was me now.

  “Is it because of that boy? Nix?” My mother looked every one of her years on my floor.

  “No. It’s because you taught me life’s too short to not allow love in.” I rocked back on my heels. “I need to love my own skin and be my own expectations.”

  My mother wiped at her eyes. I grabbed her purse and pulled out one of her handkerchiefs. Holding it out to her, I held my breath.

  This moment could change everything I knew. She ignored the cloth and held open her arms.

  I checked her eyes. Her expression was sadness—but resignation. I waited. I needed more from her.

  “My child, I love you no matter what you’ve ever done. What you’ll ever do.”

  Still I waited. “I know that you went to Nix in the hospital. That you told him his mother would be proud if he left me.”

  She dropped her arms but didn’t reach for the handkerchief I still held. “I’m not proud of that.”

  “Not proud? You’ve been traipsing all over Europe with your boy toy? Or was it something more? You love him and he loves you? You get to have that but use emotional blackmail to make sure I don’t get it?” Each of my questions registered. Her eyes got wider with each one.

  “Oh, Becca.” Knowing filled her expression like sand in a vase.

  She was quiet. The sniffling was the only noise that eventually forced me to hand her the cloth.

  My mother wiped under her eyes and blew her nose. Her shoulders slumped low.

  She was tan from her travels, but I could see where the disease she’d fought had taken a lot of her vitality. The kid in me wanted to hug her. But this was a lesson only I could teach her. If she were willing to learn, we would have a future. If not…

  “I was wrong. I was so wrong. I’m sorry. I wanted everything that was best for you—but I get it. I get what you’re saying. My sweet girl. I’m so sorry.” She looked at me and held her arms out again.

  I looked toward my bedroom, and Nix was standing in the doorway. I watched as he nodded. He felt like that was enough of an apology for what he’d been through.

  All he required was seven sentences. I nodded in response. Love for him was overwhelming. This man’s soul was purely mine. And he gave forgiveness so quickly.

  I leaned forward and hugged my m
other in return. I watched as Nix nipped back into my room.

  He was going to wait on introductions—and I was okay with that too. I watched my bedroom door close as I helped my mom up. She was too busy staring at my face to see the movement.

  My mother had opinions and offered suggestions that were annoyingly good about the kind of eye makeup that would work best with my face tattoo. It’d take time for her to get used to it. And it would take time for me to feel like I could trust her completely, but we were still a family. We came away from that spot on the floor still whole.

  44

  TICKETS

  Becca

  Nix was nervous. He was ridiculously handsome in his suit. He had fixed the tie three times. I watched from his bed with my legs crossed. I had on a simple white dress. With the elaborate half skull on my skin, I needed less makeup in general. My nude colored high heels were sitting by his bedroom door.

  He turned to me, his tie askew again. “Is this trying too hard? I don’t want to try too hard.”

  I uncrossed my legs and got up. Padding over to him, I held up my thumbs and index finger to try to square the tie he was so worried about.

  “Let me do this.” It didn’t take much to straighten it.

  “She’ll be embarrassed. Look at me.” He frowned.

  “She’ll be thrilled.” Actually, I had no idea. I’d never met his sister, but I was hoping she was enough like Nix that she’d be kind to her brother.

  After going to my tiptoes, I brushed his jaw with my lips. “You’re delicious.”

  I let a little purr escape when I got near his ears.

  “We could do that.” He pushed gently against my mouth with his chin.

  “When we’re all said and done, we can reward ourselves.” I had to rub the touch of red lipstick off of his skin. He wanted to look perfect and I respected it.

  I turned my back to him so we wouldn’t be tempted. I felt his hands sculpt my curves.

  “This ass should be a mask I get to wear.” He returned the purr along the side of my neck.

  I shivered. “That’s so creepy. I love you.”

  He laughed as he moved my colorful hair out of the way. “Okay. We’ll go.”