Sunshine and Mercy returned to a dark home. I flopped on the sofa, not willing to remove myself from the position I had landed in. Small drops of his blood had made their way to the bottom of my shirt, which was now entwined between my fingers, my only source of comfort. Sunshine turned on the lights, and something akin to a hiss escaped my lips as I protected my eyes by shutting them. When I finally tried to open them, Mercy was hovering over me, concern etched all over her face, Sunshine was right behind her, the two of them almost on top of each other as they took in my face.
"He talked shit about Claire, so I stabbed him. I left the knife in so he wouldn't bleed out, but it's been a few hours. Check on him because he can't die yet."
Sunshine rolled her eyes at me before walking towards the basement, saying nothing. Mercy finally gave up her hovering and settled for climbing into my lap and setting her head at the nook of my neck. She threw her hands over my neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin, and I couldn't help but moan even as my fingers released the hem of my shirt and wrapped themselves around her neck, pulling her to me. She slid closer, forcing me to use my other arm to support her back so that she didn't fall off my lap. I buried my head into her neck, breathing in her calming scent until I felt alive again. Despite her protests, I set her down on the sofa, turning to face her.
I need you to use all the information we gathered on his parents from his phone to bring down their empire. I want everyone who even thought of going into business with them to feel the loss. I want news articles and headlines for at least a week. I want people in the village to know what they did without even knowing who they are. It will be better if they land on international news. I want them incarcerated by the end of this. They are the only ones capable of bringing us down, and I can't have that.
Gleeful, joyful, maybe even euphoric, felt like shallow words to describe how my request had Mercy feeling. I have never seen someone burst out laughing simply from the thought of destroying somebody else's life. She truly had no skin in the game, and yet she skipped to her room humming a tune as she went along. I fell back on the sofa again and wished the light would go off. I felt a heaviness in my soul as if it were being pulled down by the weight of the world.
I wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear, but the thought of Matthew with a hole in his abdomen kept the terrible feeling at bay. Claire did not have the luxury to run away from her problems; she did not have the luxury of simply breathing, and her killer had lived a great life for far too long. Mercy worked best alone, and this task was right up her alley. I had seen the aftermath of one of her schemes, and I once felt sorry for one of her victims, if you could call them that.
An hour later, Sunshine emerged from the basement bloody. She disappeared into her room for half an hour and emerged with nothing but an oversized T-shirt on. Her bare ass peeked from the hem of the shirt, the twin planets jiggling with every step she took, and I stared shamelessly until she caught my line of sight after a good twenty minutes had passed. She was busy in the kitchen making dinner, and every time she lifted her hand to pick something off the shelf, I was presented with the most stunning view.
No man would ever come close to being as attractive as Sunshine was, and best of all, she could take any number of them in a fight and probably win, given her very tough background. She grew up in the equivalent of a war zone, and although she had not escaped unscathed, she had learnt how to survive and had grown up to never be a victim again. I subconsciously stood up and went to her, wrapping my arms around her from the back. I could not see past her tall, broader shoulders, but that wasn't my intention.
I squeezed her, wanting to draw strength from her being, and she let me. I remained attached to her back, walking when she walked and stopping when she did, satisfied to play her clingy shadow. I wanted to do so much more and forget about the meal that was filling my kitchen with its sweet aroma, but Mathew's presence was a constant reminder of the worst thing Claire had gone through, and getting any pleasurable relief felt like an insult to her. More so, knowing that she dies wanting us to have these moments of intimacy, something she would never get to experience.
A wave of guilt following Claire's memory had me walking out of my house at nine at night to have some fresh air. Every step I took, every light moment reminded me of all the things Claire wouldn't be able to do. My role in it would forever haunt me; if she hadn't met me, she would still be alive. I endured the biting cold until Sunshine came to fetch me. Even the weather seemed to be as gloomy as I felt. Dinner was a quiet affair. Mercy, who was the talkative one, had only compromised on coming down for dinner. She was fully occupied with the three devices she had set up in front of her before ignoring us. She only ate what we spoon-fed her, and I was more than happy to accommodate her, seeing as how she was struggling on my behalf.
I dragged myself to my bed once dinner was over. I did not have the mental space left to see or tolerate Mathew. If I tried going to the basement, he would be dead before I came out. Simply dying seemed like a way out for him, just like Brian, he had to lose everything he held dear before dying, only then would Claire's death be avenged. A nagging thought kept echoing in my mind that did little et improve my mood: even if I did claim my vengeance, nothing would ever bring Claire back.