Fairy Tales Of New York: Taming The Beast Part 13

"Orange juice?"

"Sure," she said, with a nod and a silent prayer of thanks that tomorrow she had no cla.s.ses. "Thank you. And Ill have a shot of vodka to go with it, if you dont mind. What?" she added, catching the look of alarm that pa.s.sed between her friends.

"Are you sure?" asked Faith, looking concerned.

"About the vodka? Actually, no."

"Phew."

"Youd better make it a double."

Two hours and three delicious double vodka and oranges later Mercy, who had an unfamiliar but lovely buzz going on, had come to a decision.

Shed thought about it long and hard, back and forth, up and down, diagonally, upside down and inside out but the next time she saw Seb she was going to tell him exactly how she felt about him. She hadnt pushed him too far. Of course she hadnt. Shed helped him. She knew she had, and hed be pleased she had once hed gotten over it. So to h.e.l.l with pamareters. To the devil with the conshequences. She was no shrinking rose. She was no feak and weeble chiquita. She was a woman in lurve. And she was going to tell him.

But, whoops, maybe shed better get up off the floor first.

Chapter Ten.

The Friday night after the Sunday before, having made considerable progress through a bottle of whisky that had lain untouched for years, Seb realized that he had to put a stop to this thing with Mercy. It just couldnt go on. He had to get out.

With hindsight, he thought grimly, staring into the fire that roared in his grate, his fingers tightening around his again empty gla.s.s, he should have gotten out weeks ago. With even clearer hindsight he should never have gotten in, but it was too late to regret that. All he could do was prevent any future regret, and that was what he intended to do.

That he didnt want to do it was just tough. Sunday morning in his garage had been a game changer, hed come to realize. Hed lost control. Hed completely lost control. Beneath the onslaught of memory, l.u.s.t, pain and sheer edginess he just couldnt explain, hed buckled, his defences shattering and leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

Mercy had bulldozed her way right on through the rubble, had reached into his very soul where his deepest fears lay and yanked them out. And hed let her. Hed put up no resistance. No argument. Hed gone to the gallows willingly.

And now, after days of contemplation, it seemed to him that it had been inevitable because the truth was that his defences had weakened long before Sunday morning. Maybe he hadnt realized it. Maybe he hadnt wanted to. But the signs had all been there.

The sharp arrow of pleased relief hed experienced when shed come knocking on his door, for example. The inability to send her packing when his peace of mind depended on it. The heady antic.i.p.ation with which he greeted every weekend. The insatiable desire he had to know more about her. The ache that had taken up inside him when she hadnt visited him that weekend and the irrational impulse that had him going to that dinner. The white hot jealousy over that Aussie guy with whom shed had a five minute phone call and then the heart-thumping gut-churning suspicion that maybe hed wanted her to see his cellar and his garage.

As if all that wasnt enough, a month ago hed bought a pair of Victorian silver gilt grape scissors and what those were all about he didnt like to think. Hed seen them in the window of an antique shop on Madison Avenue hed been pa.s.sing. Useful, hed told himself. He liked grapes. Ate a lot of them. And they would be useful if they were actually in his cutlery drawer instead of burning a hole in the top right hand drawer of his desk in his office.

All signs. And in his stupid, arrogant hubris, in his misguided belief that his self-control was all conquerable, all ignored.

Somehow, without him even noticing, Mercy had snuck through his impenetrable shield and embedded herself in him with her wry humor, her quick intelligence, her smiles, her warmth and her touch.

Every time she even so much as looked at him the foundations of everything he believed in rocked. Every time she touched one of his scars he felt another drop of guilt evaporate. Every time they said goodbye he wanted to renegotiate the conditions of their deal.

How he had ever thought she didnt have a hold over him he didnt know. She held him in a stranglehold. She had him doubting himself for the first time in years. She had him thinking things he didnt deserve to think, wanting things he didnt deserve to want. Shed reduced him to a weak, vulnerable, exposed wreck of a man.

Hed been kidding himself by telling himself hed been in control of this, he knew now. Hed hadnt been in control since shed stormed into his apartment the night of Zels slumber party. And without it, what was he? Dangerous. A loose cannon. Someone who destroyed others. Something he wasnt willing to be or could ever be.

So he had to get out, he thought, refilling his gla.s.s then picking up his phone and scrolling down to her details, his fingers shaking in a way he didnt understand. For his sake, and hers. Before he saw her tomorrow for their regular weekend hookup and he lost his mind all over again. However hard, however unappealing, whatever it took hed do it. Because he had to get out now.

Mercy was in the bath thinking about Seb, about what she was going to say to him tomorrow and how she was going to approach it when her phone rang.

This morning, she thought languidly, lifting her arm from the lovely warm water to feel around on the floor for the thing, the ring tone would have hammered into her head like a pneumatic drill, so bad had her hangover been. But now, twenty-four hours after her night out with the girls, during which shed consumed her bodyweight in carbs and water and napped on and off, everything was just great.

Especially the decision shed made last night.

She might have determined she was going to tell Seb she was in love with him while drunk as a skunk, but shed checked that repeatedly throughout the day and it still seemed like a very good idea.

And OK, so shed probably been a bit optimistic when shed thought hed be pleased shed taken it upon herself to help him but they could work through that, just as they could work through the many other obstacles that no doubt lay in their way. If Seb was willing, if she was willing which she was it would all be good.

Picking up her phone and looking at the incoming call information, Mercy felt an unstoppable grin spread across her face.

"h.e.l.lo," she said, her heart leaping about all over the place no matter how much she tried to stop it.

"Hi."

"How are you?"

A pause. Then, "Fine."

Just the sound of Sebs voice made her go warm all over and her stomach flip. Dios, she hoped he didnt run a mile when she told him how she felt about him. Shed be c) devastated if he did. "Want to know where I am?" she said, not allowing herself to entertain that possibility.

"Mercy."

He sounded tense. Stressed. As turned on as she was, maybe. "Im in the bath," she said, lowering her voice to the seductive level hed never been able to resist. "Wearing nothing but bubbles and feeling kind of hot. Want to come over?" she asked and held her breath because this was departure from their usual routine; this was a gamble.

Which was met with silence.

"Its Friday," he said.

"I know that."

Another silence. "Mercy, we need to talk."

Yes, they did, she thought, buzzing with love. She had so much to tell him she was nearly bursting with it. But there was no way was she going to do it over the phone. She wanted to see his face when she told him she was in love with him.

Maybe he wanted to talk because hed reached the same conclusion as her, that this wasnt just s.e.x. Or maybe he hadnt. Maybe he wanted to tell her he was going away on business or something. Whatever. She could wait.

"Well, Im not going anywhere," she said, ignoring a faint feeling of foreboding because there wasnt anything wrong. Of course there wasnt. What on earth could be wrong? "But seeing as youre such a stickler for the rules, what time do you want to meet up tomorrow?"

There was a pause. A sigh. Harsh. Resolute. Unforgiving. That sense of foreboding grew and now she was thinking maybe something was wrong. "Seb?" she said, a trickle of alarm winding through her. "Whats the matter?"

"Look, theres no easy way to say this, Mercedes, so Ill just come out and say it."

Her blood ran cold and her heart gave a lurch. "Say what?"

"I want out."

The words. .h.i.t her brain and for a moment she froze. She couldnt think what to say. Couldnt believe shed heard correctly because, what? "Im sorry?" she said, her voice sounding all weird.

"This arrangement has been...good...but its over."

Her vision blurred. Her brain stumbled. Her tongue felt thick. "But why?"

"Its run its course."

What? How? How could he say that? It hadnt run its course. Not by a mile. How could this be?

"For me, at least," he was saying. "And if you remember, our original agreement stipulated that if either of us wanted to end things then they could. Im exercising my right to do just that."

Feeling as though the bottom was falling out of her stomach, Mercy swallowed hard. "Is there anything I can do to persuade you to change your mind?"

"No," he said, and the word was so clipped, so final, that what he was telling her hit her suddenly, with the force of a blow to the head, and sank in.

This was it. This really was it. Shed been gearing up to tell him she loved him and hed been gearing up to tell her it was over.

She didnt know what to do. She didnt know what to say. She could hardly tell him she loved him now, could she? And she could hardly complain about the condition shed agreed to. Nor was she going to beg because it would only compound her pain when he told her to stop. But she had to say something. He was waiting for a response.

"I understand," she said, even though she didnt understand at all.

"Great," he said, and, horribly, she thought he sounded relieved. "So no hard feelings?"

"No hard feelings, she said automatically. And it was true. It really was. She couldnt feel anything at all.

"See you around, Mercy."

"Goodbye, Seb."

Outside it had begun to snow. Through the bathroom window Mercy could see the flakes drifting down in the night. Inside it was dark, the candles having burned out long ago, and the bathwater was cold. Her hands and feet were shrivelled, the skin of her fingertips like prunes, and she could feel herself shivering but she just couldnt summon the energy to get out.

Seb had been right about the way he could hurt her, she thought dully, staring at her feet lying just below the surface of the water. Shed dismissed it at the time, because of course he wouldnt hurt her, shed thought. Look at how happy hed made Zelda. He might not want to admit it but hed changed.

Now though, she knew differently. He could decimate her. With a two minute phone call.

She ached all over. Her head throbbed. Her throat was tight. Her eyes stung. And her heart felt as if it had been slashed to ribbons.

If shed been in any doubt about the way she felt about Seb it was gone now. Only last night, when Dawn had revealed the truth to her, it had felt like something just out of reach, something she sort of knew but couldnt really get a hold of. Now she held it and it was cleaving her apart and leaving her to bleed.

Faith.

Faith would still be up.

And suddenly she wanted no, needed to hear her voice. A friendly voice. A loyal voice. A voice to replace the one that had just shattered her hopes, her dreams, her heart.

With effort that seemed to require every drop of strength she had, she lifted her hand and with shaking fingers she dialled the number.

"h.e.l.lo?" said Faith and Mercy could hear the clink of gla.s.ses in the background.

"Faith," she whispered.

The clinking stopped. "Mercy?" said Faith, her voice filled with concern. "Are you all right? Whats the matter?"

"Its over."

"What is?"

"Seb and me," she said, her throat so tight she could barely get the words out.

"Why? What happened?"

"He finished it." Actually saying it made it somehow feel more real and as her heart seized up Mercy wondered whether shed ever be warm again.

"Oh, honey."

"Its not his fault," she said, the truth of that making her stumble over the words. "Its entirely mine. I pushed him. Too far. I shouldnt have done that. I shouldnt have fallen in love with him."

"Its not your fault," said Faith gently. "It cant be."

But Faith didnt know about Sunday morning. "I think it is," said Mercy, her heart breaking all over again. "I tried to fix him. He didnt want to be fixed."

"Did you tell him you love him?"

"No. I didnt get a chance. At least I have that. At least I was sort of dignified. He told me hed see me around." Which she didnt think she could bear.

"Ill call the girls. Well figure out what to do."

Mercy felt her eyes fill and blinked to keep the tears at bay. "No, please dont," she said. "I dont think I can talk about it. Not this time." It was too deep. Too raw. Too much.

"How can I help, Mercy?" said Faith.

"You cant," she said wretchedly. "I wish you could."

"What are you going to do?"

She didnt know. But she needed time. s.p.a.ce. A place to lick her wounds and get over what could never have been and she should never have considered. Maybe the December heat of Mendoza could make her warm again. At least shed be in no danger of b.u.mping into Seb down there. "Terms over," she said, feeling a glimmer of something good spark in the ravaged remains of her heart. "I have four weeks off. I think I might go home."