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But what I am? Inside me lives the real monster, the true beast. And I need to keep very tight hold of the reins because it cannot be allowed to breathe. It’s why I’m so disciplined in every aspect of my life.
It’s Sunday evening, exactly two weeks after the night of her punishment. I carry two large boxes into the house. A rush order. My peace offering. She’ll probably think it comes from the money Santiago is paying me to look after her, but the truth is, there is no money, no payment. I refused it. I’m wondering now if I should have told her the truth about it. Or at least not let her believe an untruth. But it was another way to keep her at arm’s length, and I need all the help I can get with that when it comes to Mercedes.
I enter the house and climb the stairs. I hear Lois and Paolo talking in the hallway. They’re both on their knees, looking closely at something when I approach.
“Evening, Judge,” Paolo says casually. He’s been back to work for the last week.
“Evening. What are you doing here on a Sunday night?” I ask him. He usually only works during the week, and even though he lives in a cottage on the property, I try to respect his time.
“I’d come to check on the hounds, and Lois mentioned a repair, so I thought I’d get a head start.”
“Repair?” I ask Lois.
“I noticed it this morning. It’s small enough, but…” She trails off and touches a spot on the hardwood floor close enough to the runner that I’m not even sure how she found it.
I set the boxes down and crouch to examine it. There’s a divot in the hardwood, a small depression.
“How did you see it?” I ask.
“I was vacuuming, and it caught my eye. I’ve told the girls to let me know about things like this, but well, you know how that goes. They mean well, but their heads are in their phones half the time.”
I touch it. My first thought would be a woman’s heel. I’ve seen it before, especially when the rubber at the end of the heel has worn down and it acts like a nail on the wood, digging divots into it with each step. But this isn’t that. For one thing, it’s a perfect half-circle. No breaking of wood, more of a pushing in. For another, it’s too big to be a heel.
“I’m sure I can repair it, sir. Don’t you worry,” Paolo says.
I straighten. Think. I remember the comment Mercedes made about Miriam throwing a paperweight at her. It sounded so ridiculous, so outlandish. So unbelievable.
“Sir?” Lois says, holding on to the banister to stand.
“Sorry, what?”
“Dinner’s almost ready. Will you eat with Ms. De La Rosa tonight?”
Was she telling the truth? No. Why would Miriam throw a paperweight at her? It makes no sense.
“I’ve made Italian. Her favorite. And tiramisu for dessert.” She’s worried. I see it on her face, in her eyes. “Maybe she’ll eat a little more tonight. If you’re there, perhaps—”
“No.” I swallow down a lump. “Let her eat with you. I think she’d prefer that. I’ll eat later. Just take care of her.”
She sighs and nods.
“Has she eaten anything today?”
“Just a few bites of an apple and tea.”
“Thank you.”
I pick up the boxes, thoughts swimming in my head. Lois’s and Paolo’s voices fade into the distance as I knock on Mercedes’s door. As usual, there’s no answer, so I open it and enter. It’s unlocked now. Has been for two weeks. But I’m not sure she’s left it apart from when I take her to the stables in the morning or when Lois comes to get her for dinner in the evening. Miriam still delivers breakfast and lunch, which Lois prepares, but those trays go back untouched.
“Good evening,” I say as I enter. I set the boxes down on the table by the door.
Mercedes has a chair pulled up to the open window and is sitting with a heavy sweater wrapped around her, her knees tucked up under her. She doesn’t bother to turn around or acknowledge me.
It's raining and colder than usual tonight. It’s been raining for the past few nights, and the prediction is for more wet, gloomy, and cold weather in the next few days.
“It’s too cold to have your window open,” I say when she shudders at a gust of wind. I move to close it. “If you want fresh air, let’s get a jacket on you, and we can go for a walk.”
I look down at her, waiting for her to reply. And it takes all I have to tamp down whatever the fuck it is that seems to be creeping up from my gut to my chest, casting a shadow over everything.
