Thomas grumbled as we made our way to the hotel room, complaining about how heavy Joseph was. I only reminded him to be grateful there was an elevator. Mercy was waiting for us in front of the hotel room, anxiously looking around. As soon as she spotted us, she slipped back into the room, leaving the door ajar. I stood back and watched Thomas struggle with his dead weight and left as soon as the old man's body touched the bed. With Thomas acting as my driver, it had been a lot easier to knock out Joseph, who descended on my neck as soon as I closed the car door. He didn't know what hit him, and I doubt he would make a fuss over passing out. Not that I would be around even if he decided to raise alarms.
Mercy had the foresight to hack into the hotel's CCTV, which, according to her, had been child's play given their free WIFI. With Joseph out for the night, it was her time to shine. Joseph, a creature of habit, carried his work electronics wherever he went. He had retrieved them from his car before climbing into mine. Mercy had her work cut out for her since we needed enough material to blackmail the old man, but there was no way of telling if they were on his devices or if he had stored them as physical copies. I poured her a glass of whiskey from the bottle Joseph had purchased for me and gave her space to work, choosing to hang out on the balcony of the room with the bottle.
It was one o'clock in the morning, but the city was still as vibrant as ever. Mombasa was not my family's first city of choice, but my father's job had caused the entire family to relocate. The first days in this city had been filled with joy and laughter, it was as if the ocean had swept away the shadows of our past, allowing new light to enter into our lives. Pretty soon, the idyllic honeymoon phase was over, and the people we used to be returned with full vengeance, making it gloomy once again. Which was why I had decided to stay in Kilifi, far away from anyone I knew. However, my newfound nefarious agenda pulled me back to this city like a siren luring sailors to destruction. On the thirteenth floor, the view was impeccable, and even the dark waters of the distant ocean seemed beguiling.
Weeks had gone by since arriving in our new home, weeks that I had spent idling my time away as he prepared battle plans. When I gave him the go-ahead, I had not expected him to fall wholeheartedly into the endeavor of ending our enemies. There was a twinkle in his eyes, it was as if he was finally complete. His days were now occupied; he spent all his waking hours in his office, always surrounded by his men. We never got the chance to revisit the kiss we shared on the first day. I did not want to take away his newfound excitement for life, so I kept myself busy with different and fleeting hobbies, which was why I was surprised to feel him slip into my bed that particular night.
I held my breath and stayed still just in case it was a dream, scared that if I made any sudden movements, he would disappear with the rustle of the sheets. He shifted closer to me, inching until his chest was flush against my back. I felt his warm naked skin against the exposed sections of my back, and I stifled the moan that threatened to escape into the still room. His warm, callused hands drew a fiery trail from my shoulder through the expanse of my arm down to my waist, where it lay melting into my skin.
"Hey, are you awake?" His raspy voice, breathless yet deep, spilled into the atmosphere, warming me just as his hands had done.
I nodded, not trusting my voice, afraid that it would betray the need that was rapidly building up inside me. In one fluid motion, he shifted me so that I lay on my back and his upper body hovered on top of me. I shut my eyes, unwilling to stare into his, in case I lost myself in their depth further than I already was.
"I need to hear you say the words, Melissa!"
"Melissa! Earth to Melissa!" Mercy called out, having resorted to shaking me
"Don't go to sleep on me now, not while you still have the only alcohol in this dreadful place."
She held out her glass, which I quickly filled to the brim, earning a look of approval from her. She set her glass down and stretched her body while taking in the beautiful view. She ran her hands through her short-cropped hair, groaning with dissatisfaction. Were it anyone else, I would have inquired about her exaggerated sighs. But knowing Mercy, she probably had an issue with life itself. Her permanent state of discontent was probably one of the reasons why she had no qualms about dealing in illegal activities. If anything, unorthodox situations were where she derived her pleasure from life, which was why she had gotten along with Claire and me.
It had been absolutely lucky that all worthwhile universities were located hundreds of miles away from home. Although I had no real recollection of my past time in the capital city of Nairobi, I had left home filled with nothing but hopes for my time in the unfamiliar place. With a ten-hour drive between us and our families, Claire and I had enthusiastically fallen into the temptations of the city. This was how I found myself at three in the morning, holding Claire's hair as she emptied the contents of her stomach in a club's underground parking lot next to my car. One minute I was soothing and supporting Claire, and the next we were being shoved into the open backseat of my car by a stranger. Taking advantage of the key that was on the dashboard, our assailant peeled out of the parking lot, almost hitting a car on the way, before we could even remember to scream.
We were already on the main road by the time I collected my wits about me. I turned to Claire only to realize that she was out cold, leaving me alone with our kidnapper. A few minutes of silence passed before the stranger burst out laughing like she was witnessing the most hilarious scene unfold in front of her. At that moment, irrelevant as it was, I found myself feeling relieved that it was a woman who had kidnapped us. There were fates much worse than death, and her sexuality erased some of the worst ones, at least for long enough to give me time to come up with a plan.
"Sorry about that! Don't worry, I don't want to hurt you; if anything, I owe you one. I would be dead or worse in jail if it weren't for you. I hope your house is in this direction, I don't want to inconvenience you more than I already have," the stranger called out in a cheery voice.
"What do you want with us?" I asked, feeling a flood of emotions, confusion taking the forefront.
"I may or may not have emptied the bank account of a child molester. As you can imagine, he was not very happy with it, considering there were at least three million in the account. I had to put up with the idiot's groping, knowing fully well his last victim was only twelve years old. If you ask me, I worked hard for that money and I deserved it. At least now he will be too busy to pursue young girls from poor families."
I was rendered speechless for a second, envy tinged with disbelief coursing through my body. It was the way she admitted to a felony as if we were discussing the weather. The fact that we were meeting for the first time, an encounter during which she kidnapped us but was confessing to me, increased the absurdity of the situation. It was also the absolute realization that this stranger, whoever she was, was completely crazy.
"My name is Mercy, by the way, you are not going to turn me in, are you?" She asked after willingly volunteering her name.
"You said he was a pedophile. If that is true, then he had it coming. For the mere fact that he is male, he deserved to be taught a lesson." I called out, realizing how much I meant that statement
Mercy burst out laughing, a hysterical sound that spoke of boundless insanity. She had been on the verge of losing everything, if she was to be believed, and yet here she was confessing her crime to strangers who would have been more inclined to betray her. Claire chose that moment to wake up, joining in the hysterical laughter for a minute before passing out again.
"I like you girls, let's be friends," and friends we became.
For the remainder of our campus days, Mercy became our sponsor. With the money she extorted from men who she felt deserved a taste of hell, we were treated to expensive gifts and lavish scenery. She would occasionally rope us in one of her schemes, and given who her usual targets were, we were more than happy to comply. Mercy had been born a genius, and as she grew up, she fell in love with technology. By the tender age of ten, she successfully hacked into her headmaster's computer and revealed his search history, which exposed him as a pedophile, causing him to lose his job. Everyone had been swept away by the disturbing news, and they never got around to figuring out who had been responsible for the leak.
At thirteen, she lost both her parents to a car accident, and a week later, several arrests consisting of cartel members had been made in connection with her parents' deaths. Thanks to her technological savviness, Mercy managed to identify the people responsible for her parents' demise before they were even buried. Her parents had been prominent businesspeople, and a quick internet search verified her story. The case had made headlines in the country, and there was even a picture of her at her parents' funeral. As the sole heir of her parents' fortune, she had gone head to head with her extended family members who wanted to steal her inheritance. After inexplicable things met everyone who tried to throw her out of her home, she was left alone in the care of the family lawyer, who was also her parents' best friend. Needless to say, Mercy grew up isolated because of her trauma, which pushed her into the online communities that she later used to hunt for prey.
After graduation and without any job prospects, Claire and I were forced to go back home. Mercy had followed us to Mombasa because, in her words, 'there was nothing better than new hunting grounds'. The fact that we went along with her schemes said a lot more about us than it did about her, but I never once regretted it. After hearing of Claire's demise, she offered to use her expertise to get justice. I had declined, hoping to punish the offenders using legal means. That was a naïve sentiment, one that I had long discarded. When I first went to her for help with the boys, she had been more than willing to help, offering any extended services if required.
Ruffling my hair, she offered me a smile with her glass outstretched. I met her glass with my bottle before we each took a sip of the alcohol. She raised her glass again into the space, waiting expectantly for me to follow suit.
"To Claire!" she called out, pouring a small amount onto the ground, and I followed suit.
"To get even!" I called out and we clinked our glasses once again before sipping the alcohol.