Undressing Mercy

by Deanna Lee

  “You’ve always been in my way, Mercy. First at the museum, prancing around that place and holding court with anyone that could get you further in life. You fucked your way up the ladder there, and you’re doing the same thing at Holman’s. I saw the way Brooks looked at you. I know what you are and how far you’ll go to get what you don’t fucking deserve.”

  Disgusted with his verbal abuse, I turned off the machine. I went to my front door, locked all four locks, and put the chain in place. Back in the living room, I sat down on the couch. I’d drained half the glass when the phone rang. I wasn’t going to be a coward, so I picked it up.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, I’m regretting sending you home.”

  I sighed and stood. “Shamus.” Going to a window, I peeked out into the night and knew that I didn’t want to spend it alone. “Why don’t you come over here and spend the night in my bed?”

  “That sounds perfect; I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”

  After I hung up, I went into the kitchen and put up the rest of the groceries. I let myself think about Jeff and the situation that had developed during the day. I couldn’t have imagined anything worse if I had tried. Beyond the drama of it all, I felt like I’d fallen into some awkward and warped universe where everything good and bad happened at once.

  I had a man in my life again, a sexy and thoughtful man who looked at me as if I were special. Being special for him meant so much to me, I hated that my past was bleeding onto us. I picked up my phone and dialed Lisa Millhouse’s number. I’d meant to call her earlier in the day, but had forgotten.

  “Hello, there, I expected to hear from you sooner.”

  I leaned against the counter and put my wineglass down. “Where should I start?”

  “The woman wanted me to do a fucking television interview! She invited a crew out here to my home!”

  I sighed. “Did you get them all with the paint gun?”

  Lisa laughed softly. “No, I wouldn’t want that sort of behavior on tape. I just called the police and reported them as trespassers.” She was silent for a minute, and then softly she asked, “What’s wrong, Mercy?”

  “Whenever I think that I’m on the right path, that I’ve found a good stride, something fucks me up.”

  “I could be flippant and say that’s life.” She stopped and then sighed. “But it doesn’t make you feel better. I’ve heard that a well-placed cock can cure what ails you.”

  I snorted. “You’ve been talking to Jane.”

  “She offers sound advice,” Lisa laughed. “However, the poor girl doesn’t even own a vibrator. I can’t believe you let her out in the world without one.”

  “She insists that she doesn’t need one.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t need oxygen,” Lisa returned.

  I closed my eyes and nodded. “Thanks.”

  “I’m sure one day you’ll return the favor.”

  “When you are ready to tell me more about what happened, I’ll be available.”

  “I know.”

  “Shame is on his way over here.”

  “Good for you.” Lisa yawned. “Fuck him for me, too.”

  I laughed and wondered why it didn’t bother me that she’d had a relationship with him. “I just might. Would you like him to call me your name?”

  Lisa laughed aloud. “What a freaky lady you are, Mercy. I don’t think Shame stands a chance. Have fun.”

  I told her good night and turned off the phone. I put it down on the counter and picked up my wineglass as the doorbell rang. I went to it, focused on Shamus and all the warm, wonderful feelings he stirred in me. Unlocking the door, I peeked out the peephole and jerked back from the door. Swallowing hard, I put my wineglass carefully down on the table. Only the chain remained in place.

  That shiny gold-plated chain was the only thing between Jeff King and me. With a shaking hand, I reached toward the door. My fingers grazed the first bolt lock as the door pushed open and slammed against the chain. I screamed before I could help myself and ran toward the kitchen for my phone.

  I ran past the phone in a wild moment that I can only describe as desperate and stupid. I heard the chain give away as I threw open my bedroom closet and pulled out my baseball bat. The steel bat felt good in my hands, though I wished I’d had the guts to buy a gun. Turning toward the doorway, I waited for Jeff to make his way to the bedroom.

  He came to the doorway of the bedroom, and his hand moved up the wall, searching for the light switch. The light flipped on, and there he stood. Fear and hatred that made me feel small and wounded boiled inside me as he just stood there and looked at me. “You and I need to talk.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  He glanced briefly at the bat, and a smile briefly crossed his lips. “Do you think for a moment that moving here was an escape for you? I’ve known where you were all along. You don’t need to pretend anymore. No need to be outraged when we both know you enjoyed it.”

  I swallowed back bile and gripped the bat a little bit tighter. “Get the hell out of my life.”

  “You don’t have the right to deny me. You are nothing.”

  “Your delusions don’t make what you did to me right. You’re a sick bastard who can’t get off without some illusion of domination. You didn’t break me, didn’t beat me. I’m stronger for what you did to me, not weaker. You’ll never win.”

  He came at me, and I honestly don’t think he expected me to swing. But I did. I swung with all of the strength I had. He fell to his knees, and I struck him hard across the back. He fell on the floor, and I just stood there, like a ninny, staring at him. If I had been watching this on television, I would have been screaming at the woman to run while she had the chance.

  Understanding why I wasn’t running, I lowered the bat until it pointed at the floor. I wanted to beat him bloody.

  I jumped when I heard my name. Then I called back, “Shame?”

  He appeared in the doorway several seconds later and looked from Jeff to me. “This is not exactly what I had in mind.”

  I shrugged and lowered the bat. “He broke the chain on my door.”

  “I noticed.” Shame kicked him, and Jeff groaned. “Hey, asshole, you want to get up so I can kill you?”

  “I’m handling this.” I pointed one finger at him and then looked at Jeff. “Get out of my apartment.”

  “You aren’t going to call the police?”

  “No.” From Shame’s shocked expression, I realized that he fully expected me to call the police and have Jeff arrested for breaking into my apartment. I knew I wouldn’t. How could I? The man had raped me, and I hadn’t filed charges against him…and explaining that to yet another cop wasn’t something I could imagine myself doing.

  Jeff got to his knees and cast Shamus a leery glance. The hostility radiating off them both practically glowed. I could imagine that Jeff was pretty pissed that I’d beat him up. He was one of those men who held his masculinity near and dear to his heart.

  On his feet, he rubbed his mouth and kept looking from me to Shame. “You’re fucking this guy?”

  “Jeff, you should leave before he decides that he’d like to hurt you more than he’d like to keep seeing me.” I tightened my grip on the bat and stilled the urge to hit him again.

  Jeff walked toward Shame, and when he didn’t step aside to let him leave, Jeff swung. To Shame’s credit, he let the punch land before he struck back. Then Jeff was, once more, lying on the floor between us, bleeding from the nose and mouth. I watched the blood gush to the surface, amazed.

  “Leave, Jeff, or I swear to God I’ll call the cops and tell them that I beat an intruder to death.”

  Both men looked toward me in shock.

  Swallowing hard, I tried to remember that I was the civilized one.

  Stepping over Jeff, I left the bedroom and went into the hall bathroom, shut the door, and locked it. Thankful that I had taken the time to clean my bathroom, I sank to my knees. My insides were shaking with anger and fear. I hated the
fear, the weakness of it. Hadn’t I stood up to him? Nausea threatened, but giving into that would have been horrifying. Sitting there on the floor, I fought the urge to rock. Where had my courage and resolve disappeared to?

  A few minutes passed before I heard scuffling in the hallway and assumed that Shame was taking Jeff out of the building. I stood when someone knocked on the bathroom door.

  “What?”

  It was Shame. “Mercy, I don’t appreciate being on the other side of a locked door.”

  I went to the door and unlocked it.

  He opened the door and looked at me. “Are you okay?”

  I shrugged and propped my bat against the bathroom counter. “Did you hurt him?”

  “I put him in a cab.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “I know.”

  “Damn it, Shame!”

  “You don’t get to be mad at me, Mercy.” He pointed a finger at me. “What the hell were you thinking, unlocking your door without looking to see who was on the other side?”

  “Don’t you yell at me! I’m a grown woman, and I don’t need to be lectured!” And I stomped my foot to make my point.

  He looked me over and then reached out for me. I went angry but willing. He pulled me tight to him and ran one hand through my hair. “You kicked his ass.”

  “I did,” I whispered, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

  “He didn’t hurt you?”

  “No. He just yelled at me.”

  Shame pulled me from the bathroom and down the hall to the living room. He sat me down on the couch and came back with the glass of wine I’d abandoned in the entranceway. I took it and drank deeply. He sat down on the coffee table in front of me. I stopped drinking and glared at him.

  “Get your ass off my coffee table. I just had it refinished.”

  “Shut up, Mercy, and finish your wine.”

  I finished the wine in one uncouth swallow and handed him the glass. “I don’t need to be pampered. I’m fine.”

  “You beat a man with a bat in your bedroom, and you’re fine?”

  I shrugged. “I wish I hit him hard enough to break a few bones.”

  “Fuck, Mercy, you’re killing me.” He stood from the table and walked away. “It would be nice if you acted like a normal female for about twenty minutes. You know, cry and act scared so I can be the man.”

  I fell back against the couch. “You didn’t get to act like a man when you helped Jeff into a cab?”

  He looked at the floor and then shrugged. “That wasn’t the same.”

  “Did you damage him permanently?”

  Shame shrugged and looked back to me. “He may or may not be able to father children in the future.”

  I rubbed my face and shook my head. “Are all men like this?”

  “The man violated you.” His words came out through clenched teeth.

  I flinched at his tone. “Yes, he did.”

  “And he did it again tonight.” He looked around and sighed. “You’ve spent two years building a life where you felt safe, and then he showed up.”

  “And tore it to pieces,” I admitted softly. “He doesn’t matter, Shame. No matter how much he might have mattered in the past, he doesn’t matter now. What he did to me was wrong, and the betrayal of it will linger in me all of my life, but it is in my past. It was wrong not to press charges against him when it happened; there is this place inside me where I’m full of guilt. I worry about the next woman he comes across that makes him feel inferior. I’d like to carve the word rapist into his forehead so that no woman will ever trust him again.”

  “You could still prosecute him for what he did.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you won’t?”

  “I won’t.”

  “Why?” Shame asked so softly that I didn’t realize for a minute that he’d spoken.

  “Because it wouldn’t give me justice. I can let myself wallow in what he did to me, or I can move on. It may sound cowardly. Hell, it may even be morally corrupt.”

  “What will give you justice, Mercy?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then why not report him to the police and take that step?”

  “I left New York behind.” I stood from the couch and walked to the other side of the room. “In labeling him a rapist, I would be telling the world that I was his victim.”

  “And you can’t do that?”

  “Not if my life depended on it.”

  The words fell hard between us. I met his gaze and saw the anger there. I knew he wasn’t angry with me, but with a situation he’d never be able to control. I came with baggage that he hadn’t expected.

  “This is what I am, Shamus.”

  “I see that.” He rubbed his head. “I knew you were a complicated piece of business before I ever took you to bed.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think a man has ever called me a ‘piece of business’ before.”

  “Perhaps not to your face,” he muttered.

  I picked up my empty wineglass and walked toward the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Hell, no.”

  I refilled my glass and turned to lean against the counter. I could see him from the kitchen; he paced back and forth a few times before he paused in the kitchen doorway. I waited.

  “Come here, Mercy.”

  I placed the glass on the counter and walked to him. Taking the hand he offered, I shook a little as he pulled me close. Adrenaline, fear, and anger still simmered underneath my skin. I could feel the same restless energy in him. His hands moved down my back and slipped over my ass. My breath caught as he lifted me off the floor and coaxed my legs around his waist.

  He placed me on the counter and touched my face carefully. “The first time I saw you, my insides tightened and pulled like I’d been struck. I didn’t understand it, and I still don’t. I want you, and if this is what you come with, I’m willing to work with it.”

  “Okay.”

  “I can’t claim to be perfect.” He brushed my hair back from my forehead and looked over my face. “I’ll never look at you and see a victim. You survived a heinous act of violence. That’s what you are, a survivor.”

  I sighed when he kissed my lips gently and then whispered my name as he moved his mouth along my jaw.

  “I couldn’t call for help,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  Shaking, I pulled him close and buried my face in the side of his neck. “Because the one time I did, no one came.”

  Slipping out of my bed, I walked across the bedroom and into the bathroom. Grabbing my robe, I shrugged it on and tied the belt tight. The face staring back at me in the mirror didn’t look scared. In fact, the woman in the mirror looked damn satisfied. I looked back to my bed and Shame, sprawled out across the mattress as if he owned it. He had come into my life so quickly, and I considered myself a very lucky woman.

  I’d never known a man like him. I didn’t know how to handle him. I picked up my brush and dragged it through my hair. Sleep and sex had made a mess of it. By the time I had all of the tangles out and had pulled it up in a clip, my bed was empty. I looked around the room and found Shame sitting in my bay window in a pair of boxers with Looney Toons characters all over them.

  “Tell me the truth; you’ve got a relative with an obscure sense of humor that sends you those things for Christmas, right?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “I promise I buy them on my own. It’s just one of those things you’ll have to deal with.”

  As things went, it wasn’t a bad one to deal with. I walked to him and sat down in the window beside him. “I know you’re disappointed in my refusal to go back to New York and file charges against Jeff.”

  “Yes.”

  I was silent for a moment; I hadn’t expected him to admit it. I sucked my bottom lip briefly but then released it. I found there was nothing else to say on that matter. Sighing, I stood and held out my hand. “Why don’t you come back to bed and
show me how much you like me?”

  He stood and slipped his hand into mine. “Only if you promise not to make fun of my boxers.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Darling, I wouldn’t dream of it. In fact, I was thinking that perhaps I could buy you some, too. Do you have any boxers with The Little Mermaid on them?”

  His fingers tightened in mine, and I found myself on my back in a few breathless seconds. Shame pressed me into the mattress and used his knee to spread my legs. “You’ll be punished for that.”

  “What? You didn’t like The Little Mermaid?” I asked softly.

  I arched under him as he pressed his rapidly hardening cock against the silk of my robe. There was too much material between us. I spread my legs wider and strained against his hold. Trapped and fantastically aroused by his aggression, I waited for him to answer.

  “What do you think?”

  “Okay, how about his and hers boxers…you can be the Beast, and I can be Beauty.” I bit down on my lip to keep from laughing.

  “You think so?”

  “Oh, yes,” I nodded.

  He pulled on the belt of the robe and pushed the material aside. With one hand he held both of my wrists above my head as his other hand slipped between my legs. My breath caught as Shame brushed his lips against mine before lowering his head to one breast. With his tongue, he flicked and teased the nipple until it was so painfully hard that each brush of his lips wrung a shuddering moan from my lips.

  Everything about Shame was forcing me to alter my perceptions about myself and what I needed to survive. He released my hands as he lifted away from me, left the bed, and discarded his boxers. I watched him pull a condom out of the box he’d put on my nightstand with a grin and an anticipation that I didn’t even try to hide. He came back to the bed, rolling the latex onto the thick length of his cock.

  I rubbed my legs together as he put one knee on the bed and snagged one of my ankles. He pulled me gently across the bed to the edge of the mattress. Sitting up, I ran my hands over his thighs as I looked up and met his gaze. Intense need was a bare and honest reflection in his eyes.