Page 16 of Merci

“My pops is what happened,” I shared as Merci walked over to me. “He used to beat us all. The scars on my back are from the time I lost my second fight. He said every time I lost, he was gon’ beat me just like this.” I chuckled at the thought, though there was nothing funny about the abuse at all. That beating was so bad I almost bled to death. My blood had soaked the carpeted floor and walls to the point where Ma was so traumatized we had to move. “That was the last fight I ever lost in my life, though.” My head shook as I swiped the beer off the side table on the grill. “From that point on, I made sure a nigga could never say he got the best of me… and that included my pops.”

Chugging the beer down did nothing to take away the sound of my screaming all those years ago. The look on my mother’s and brother’s faces when they got back home and saw what he’d done. Being so weak I was in and out of consciousness. Having to get a blood transfusion and lying about who’d beaten me.

I turned slightly and saw Merci staring at my back with tears falling down her cheeks.

“I’m cool, sweetheart,” was what I said, though I wasn’t completely sure that was the truth.

She wiped her tears and sniffled before asking, “Can I… Is it okay if I…”

“Yeah,” I granted, just above a whisper.

Her touch was delicate as she traced the scars on my back. When her lips replaced her hands, my eyes snapped shut, and a low hum escaped me as I shivered. I’d never let a woman touch my scars before. Never told them where they came from. Never wanted to be that vulnerable. But with Merci, she made telling my truth less scary. For the first time, it felt like I had a safe space beyond my brother.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, bae.”

Turning in her arms, I cupped her cheeks and gave her a quick kiss. “It’s cool. Well, it’s not cool, but I feel like it’s a big part of why I am who I am today. Why I feel driven to help people. Why I can’t stand to see anyone be abused or violated. He’s dead… so it ain’t like he can hurt me or anyone else in my family again, so there’s that.”

Regardless of how I tried to downplay the situation, the concern and care in her eyes made it hard for me to remain hard. It wasn’t pity—I’d seen that before. It was truly hurt over my past situation. Merci wrapped her arms around me and held me close. What started as a normal hug turned into something that touched my soul in a place nothing else ever had before.

The way she held me, rocked me, soothed me, whispered that I was safe. That I was okay. That I was beautiful. That I was a survivor. That shit brought tears to a nigga’s eyes. Merci cupped my cheeks and thumbed my tears away before giving me a tender, lingering kiss. Resting my forehead against hers, I closed my eyes and released a shaky breath.

“You know you can’t leave me now, right?” I confirmed, making her giggle.

“I hadn’t planned to, so that works.”

We held each other for a little while longer before she went back into the kitchen to handle the sides while I worked the grill. And the fact that she didn’t look at me any differently or change the vibe after hearing my truth only made me respect her more.

It wasn’t until we sat down to eat that we started to talk and get to know each other more. We talked about our childhoods, flying through mine to keep the vibe light. Her upbringing was completely different from mine, and I honestly loved that for her. It was a blessing not only having both parents in the home, but to also have a healthy, stable, and loving home—one thatshowed you not just your parents as parents but as partners and lovers as well.

We talked a little more about our careers and goals, but most of the talk was about our hobbies and interests, likes and dislikes. Merci shared that she loved spending time with her family and partying in all capacities—not just at clubs and lounges but family get-togethers and dinner parties and social events as well. I thought it was cool that, because she loved shopping so much, she did quarterly donations to get rid of the things she no longer wanted and used. And every summer, she took her gently-used designer items to her old high school to give to the senior girls.

“Oh, and I love reading books and going to book expos,” she said, pulling her legs under her on the sofa. “I try to go to at least one book expo a quarter.”

“What’s on your calendar for this year?” I asked, knowing I’d need time to mentally prepare to be in a space like that, but I didn’t mind taking her and blowing a bag on her and her books.

“I already put them on your calendar,” she said before giggling. “What about you? I know you love live music and sports.”

“And fishing,” I added. “Water in general. Me and JoJo rent a yacht every fall in Cali, but I want my own by forty-five. I guess my only other hobbies are working out and doing puzzles. It quiets my mind.”

“You consider working out a hobby?”

“Yeah, only because I don’t take it as seriously as a lot of people do. I don’t count calories, shred, bulk, or none of that shit. Usually, I eat whatever I want. I like the physicality of cardio and lifting weights. Looking the way I do is a bonus.”

“Yeah, you… definitely look nice,” she muttered under her breath as she eyed me before clearing her throat.

Chuckling, I licked my lips to hide the fact that her compliment had me smiling harder than it should have.

“Do you work out? Your body is amazing.”

Merci wasn’t overly thick, but she had meat in the right places. She was hippy with a small but round ass that matched her slim frame. I was an ass man—that, I would admit—but her hips gave her a feminine look that made my dick hard every time we were in each other’s presence.

“Yes. I do cardio five days a week and Pilates three,” she replied, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Her eyebrows scrunched as she stared at the phone. “Sorry, Mr. Freeman. This is one of my clients.”

“Go ahead and answer.”

Standing, she accepted the call with, “Hey, Keisha. Is everything okay?”

I could understand why she was asking that because it was late as hell to be calling someone about business. Her soft smile as she nodded was so beautiful. Merci had the kind of smile that made you want to do whatever it took to keep it on her face.