Page 71 of The Devil

“Ahh! Oh, Jesus Christ!”

As my senses adjust to the shock of seeing the face of this intruder, I realize she looks familiar. I haven’t seen this woman since Paul and Jen’s wedding, but I have seen many photos of her all over Helena’s walls, and I do see my topolina in her terrified, and now ashen-colored face. Standing a little over five feet, I let the tiny woman go and lower the poker. Hopefully, my actions will show Helena’s mother that I mean no harm.

“My apologies,” I utter when she clutches at her chest. For a moment, I fear she’s about to have a heart attack, but when she eventually looks up, she smiles and starts waving a hand in front of me.

“Lucius, Lucius Has-” I begin, holding out my hand, but she stops me before I can finish.

“I know who you are, Lucius,” she says rather confidently, especially for someone I was about to beat around the head with an iron rod. “You’re the man my daughter has been in love with ever since she came to stay with you in San Francisco. You’re the man who broke my Helena’s heart.”

Shit, this can only go badly, particularly now that she’s walking up to me while eyeing me intently. She looks as though she’s readying herself to slap me around the face.

“But you’re also the man who’s going to bring her back to life again, aren’t you?”

I can’t tell if she is begging me, ordering me, or threatening me, maybe all three. But all I can do is nod at the terrifying woman who is currently having to crane her neck to look up at me.

Helena

My mind is a fog of questions when I finally wake, it now being dark outside when I only remember it being light. It takes a few minutes to remember Lucius coming into my house, telling me everything I’ve waited for years to hear him say, and yet, here I am alone. Stepping out of bed, I wrap my robe around me, not even considering how old and frumpy it looks; after all, I’ve not had to think of such things in years.

It’s not until I get to the top of the staircase that I hear two voices chatting amicably from the direction of my living room. Two smiling faces look up at me from my living room chairs, though Lucius’ is more of a smirk as he studies me looking like a crumpled mess. My mother looks relaxed in his company; she’s always been good at seeing beyond the façade and getting to the true person beneath. She never liked Evan for she couldn’t ever see the real person beneath the charm.

Seeing Lucius, who still looks breathtaking, I try and rub my hair back into some kind of order, and surreptitiously slip off my raggedy old robe. He gets to his feet to reach for me, but as soon as his back is turned, I mouth over to Mom, asking if I look ok. She grins and nods her head with a flap of her hand. I guess she’s never seen me act this way over a man before.

“Better?” Lucius asks before kissing me gently on the cheek.

Unable to speak, I smile and nod before he leads me over to the couch to sit with him. An uncomfortable silence engulfs us as the surrealness of the situation hits the room. Apart from Lucius, who would be comfortable in the middle of a crowded court case while on trial and completely naked.

“So, Lucius and I have spoken,” Mom upsets the air between us with her softly spoken words, “and I’m confident that he’s going to look after you while Jess is away. With that in mind, I’m going to bid you two farewell and get back home to your father…I probably won’t mention this to him yet.”

She places down her cup, then stands, getting ready to go.

“You don’t have to-” I begin, but she cuts me off with one of her all-encompassing Mom hugs that are both a source of comfort and a means to cut off your air supply.

“It’s been fourteen years in the making, Helena, I think I do.” She grins over my shoulder before releasing me to head toward the door. “Don’t let anyone hold you back, least of all yourselves. Goodnight, Lucius.”

He nods and bids her goodnight before she leaves, but I don’t come back inside until I see her driving safely off down the road. After which, I find Lucius leaning against the wooden sideboard in the kitchen. His presence makes the room appear even smaller and I’m tempted to laugh over how ridiculous he looks in my teeny, tiny cottage. But when he turns around, I see he’s holding a bunch of unopened, handwritten letters with an angry expression on his face. I know what they are, the most recent one was sent only a few days ago. The scariest part is it was hand delivered; the lack of stamp and postmark is obvious to all who can see.

From the thunderous look on his face, Lucius has guessed as to who they’re from too. I haven’t opened them because I’ve been too afraid and too angry with the situation they represent, as well as the monster who is responsible for them. Perhaps, for Jess’ sake, I should have been braver, but I’m not, so I haven’t.

“Explain.”

His one-word instructions never fail to make me shudder. I would hate to face him in a court of law, he’d most likely stare you down until you admitted to every misdemeanor in your life, as well as a few you have never committed.

“They’re from him, but then, you already know that, Lucius,” I sigh as I go to switch the kettle on, if only so I can shift my eyes away from his penetrating gaze. “I’m too afraid to open them.”

I hear a rip of paper as he attacks one of the envelopes. I should have known he would have dived straight in, but I’m still shocked he didn’t ask for my permission. Within seconds, I step up to him and pull the offending item away from his hands, with repressed anger spreading all through my body from years of being ordered around by men. His face changes to one of surprise, but I let him have it all the same.

“Lucius, I didn’t divorce one asshole man who controlled my every movement, just to be ordered around by another. You don’t get to come into my house and open my mail. I’ll open those when I’m good and ready, but until then, back.The.Fuck.Off!”

We remain at an impasse, staring at one another with equal fury, ready to give the other one hell, if necessary. This is what we do, after all, for with him, I have never felt scared to have my say. In fact, I know he wants the reciprocation. He’s always called me his little mouse, but he knows I’m not with him, I never have been. It is one of the reasons we love one another so passionately; my ability to spar with him and nobody else is what he deems incredibly romantic. The devil craves fire, and I give it only to him.

I stare back at him as he leans in toward me, with his intimidating size and couldn’t-give-a-shit attitude. I wait for his scathing words, but instead, he kisses me gently on my lips before pulling back with his trademark smirk, the one I’ve kept locked up tightly inside of my memory for all these years. I frown with a look of utter confusion.

“You lied, Topolina,” he says smugly, “you told me that girl I once knew wasn’t there anymore, but I’ve just seen her. She’s still there.”

I try to keep my stony expression but can’t help grinning when he pulls me in tighter against his chest.

“Asshole!”

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