Page 5 of Lust
Mercy went back upstairs. When her back was turned, the lilies were arranged in their little vase. Not that she could see the entity fussing with the moonlit flowers. Acedia had expended most of her energy the night before. Besides, she was always much more powerful at night.
She looked up from the lilies. Mercy had disappeared, but her presence remained. That luminous cloud settling over a house of pain and misfortune. Nobody but Acedia could see it. The trail of turmoil.
Somewhere, in the corner of the room, Acedia’s sister lurked. All Mercy had to do was turn around and fling herself into the shadows, her soul lost for all eternity.
Acedia had to act quickly. Not only did she have to get Mercy’s attention, but the healing must begin.
Tonight, preferably.
3
By the time Mercy stumbled into work a little after one, she was met with her coworker’s curious stare.
“Slept in, huh, Mercy?” Bill chuckled, coffee mug brushing against his lips. The man worked in another corner office not too far from Mercy’s – God forbid they have an office big enough for the number of employees churning out money for their corporate overlords.That’s me. I’m a cog in that system.More likethissystem. What a lovely thought to have after a night of hating herself for her role in this game. “Almost did that myself this morning. Arnold isn’t too happy, but if he let me off the hook for coming back from vacation a day late, he’s not going to care about you being behind a few emails.”
So. Much. Unnecessary.Talking.Didn’t bill see that Mercy had a hangover? What did he want from her? Actual conversation?
“You were waylaid in Vietnam.” From Thailand, Mercy wanted to add, because of course he was taking his girlfriend to Thailand over New Year’s.Thailand. Paris. Hawaii. Barbados.That was the circuit most of the men in middle-management and up followed when they had someone to wine and dine into bed at least once. Who was Bill’s latest girlfriend now? Some twenty-one-year-old excited to go somewhere the sun shone for ninety-percent of the year? “What was Arnold going to do? Tell you to get your ass into work on risk of being fired?” Mercy scoffed. “Anyway, I’ve got those emails to catch up on, don’t I?”
Bill let her by, but only because he was busy quaffing his coffee and Mercy had places to go. Yet if she thought she was making it all the way to the office without anyone interfering, she had lost the plot before opening the latest book she bought for her Kindle.
“Devereux.”
Mercy didn’t hold back the deep-chested sigh tumbling inside of her. Arnold, the man from one floor up, could call it insubordination if he wanted. Maybe Mercy was itching to get fired. Start over again with an in-home Etsy store selling random things Marissa left behind when she moved out.Etsy is the new eBay, right? Close enough.Meanwhile, Mercy could collect unemployment for a few weeks. Until the goods dried up and she was forced back into middle-management at her company’s rival two blocks away. At least she could probably argue for better pay…
“Arnold,” she greeted.
The man in a black suit and gray handlebar mustache bristled. “You’re late.”
“I thought we went over this on the phone, Arn.” Mercy shoved her shoulder into the door of her corner office. The light flicked on. She needed it, too, since she had thecorner-corner office. The only one on the whole floor without a window. All of her light came from the fluorescent monstrosity shining above her head. During the summer she could get away with a golden-bulb desk lamp, but that was still a couple months away. “I accidentally slept in. Didn’t feel too hot last night. Not much I can do about it. I’m here now.”
“Your attitude…” Arnold followed her into her office. Mercy wasn’t sure what he was trying to accomplish. Was this a half-assed scare tactic? The man was about as frightening as a bumblebee hovering over a giant rose.Where did those lilies come from, anyway?“We need to talk about it, Devereux. Everything has been…lacking…since you came back from your leave of absence.”
Right. She had gone on leave earlier that year. How could she forget?Like I forget everything else.Most of her month-long leave was spent in bed, with the TV on and the covers up near her eyes. Whenever she wanted to punish herself, she grabbed Marissa’s old pillow and pretended her ex-girlfriend was still there.Sweet words. Sweet caresses. Sweet, sour lies.And the occasional smack to Mercy’s face, in case she was missing some of the “spiciness,” as Marissa called it when she thought domestic abusesooofucking funny.
You’re better off without her.Mercy always told herself that, but could she help it if she desperately missed the only woman she truly loved?
“My therapist says the grief process is real, Arnold.” Mercy flopped into her chair. The top button on her too-big blouse popped open.I’ve lost more weight.Mercy didn’t have too much to spare to begin with, since Marissa made sure they did every juice cleanse, fast, and smoothie diet she could find.Too fat. Then too skinny. I was never hot enough for her.Every once in a while Marissa threw her good dog a bone and called her pretty. Mercy lived for those moments.
She doubted she would care now.
“Grief or not, we need to talk about…”
Mercy held up her hand. “Remember the other thing my therapist said? That I went on leave for mental health reasons?” Mercy clicked her tongue. “You don’t want to be on the wrong side of the law, Arnold. Tread carefully.”
He was left speechless. Never before had Mercy shot some words right back into his face. And now? The extra, delicate cherry on the sundae was completely ignoring him as she logged into her computer and checked her corporate email. Indeed, she had about nine messages to respond to if she wanted to be out before five-thirty. She wasn’t sticking around longer than that. Not that she wanted to deal with complaints from Arnold in the morning, either.
“Well, I…” Arnold took a step back. “I’m sorry to hear that you’re not feeling well again, Ms. Devereux. Be sure to speak with HR if you ever need anything.”
Because they totally had my back last time?Mercy barely acknowledged her boss as he closed the door and left her to the silent hum of her computer. If only she was allowed to play music while working. She’d love to pop in her earbuds and blast some Mariah Carey, but not only would she get in trouble, but she mightlikeworking. They couldn’t have that.
Besides, she wasn’t feeling music lately, anyway. As much as it bummed her out to admit, she hadn’t actually enjoyed a single song on her playlist since the last time she heard Wham!’s “Last Christmas” playing in the grocery store.
Did those next few hours go by quickly, or did they drag? Was it possible for both realities to exist at once? Mercy didn’t often question the laws of physics, but she was pretty sure neither Isaac Newton nor Albert Einstein prepared her for this. Every time she typed out an email response, another five hours flew by. Whenever she glanced away from her computer and contemplated a spot on the wall, four of those hours were reclaimed by reality. She didn’t know how it could both be three in the afternoonandalready midnight in her mind.I want to go home and sleep forever.At least this was better than the day before, when she sat in her chair and thought about the bridge everyone called “cursed.” Marissa had once said that bridge was only good for two things. Getting people from Point A to B, and dumping them into Hell.
Was that what Mercy was trying to do the night before? Dump herself into Hell?
A chill claimed her. The same chills she had felt all week. All month.All year.Ever since Marissa cut the cord and left Mercy to take it like a pro, she had felt chill after chill. Sometimes, she could brush it off as nothing but the frosty winter air. Yet as it became spring, she no longer had any excuses. It didn’t help that she sometimessworeshe heard a voice whispering in her ear.
