Acts of Mercy: Part 2 – Chapter 9

What is that god forsaken sound?

There it goes again, like a damn woodpecker pecking at the inside of my brain. Sitting up in my new bed, I slowly crack one eye open, as if the movement will help me hear better.

“Alyssa, may I come in?” Rosie’s voice comes through the wooden door and it’s then I realize she’s my woodpecker.

“Yes, of course.” She opens the door, carrying a tray with coffee and some type of pastry. I give her a half-cocked smile and mumble, “I thought you were a woodpecker.”

She snorts, the contents of the tray jostling with her movement. “Why on earth would you think that?”

I shake my head and take the tray from her hands, placing it across my lap. “First of all, thank you for this. You definitely didn’t need to do it. I’m capable of getting my own coffee. And second, I was having a dream where a woodpecker wouldn’t stop pecking at me… I’m guessing it was your knocking.” I smirk before taking a sip of the delicious black liquid before me. “Mmmm. This is perfect. How did you know how I take it?”

“I came in earlier and you shooed me away. Saying ‘no coffee, no talkee’” It’s her turn to smirk. “So I thought I’d let you rest for another hour before bringing you something to eat and drink. You didn’t have any dinner and it’s not healthy for a girl so tiny to skip meals. As for how you take it, it was a guess. We could always get you cream and sugar if you want it.”

I make another sound of contentment as I take a bite of the delicious pastry she’s brought me. It’s flaky with cream cheese and some sort of fruit jam. “Oh my god. What is this and where can I get more?”

“They’re called ‘quesitos’, and I can make you as many as you like.” She beams with pride, as she should. These things are pure gold. “Now, why don’t you get dressed and I’ll come take you for your tour.”

I nod as I take another sip of coffee, washing down the savory sweetness that is this nugget of gold. “Okay, but you really should think about selling these in stores. I bet they’d sell like hot cakes.”

She blushes at my compliment, heading toward my closet and picking out an outfit for me. “Here, these should do nicely.”

She pulls out some modest slacks and a button-up blouse. Neither of which belong to me.

“Um, thank you. I really appreciate your help, but those aren’t my things.” My brows push together, wondering where the hell the clothes came from because I damn well know that closet was empty last night.

“Hudson had them brought in for you by Miss Cassie. She dropped them off this morning while you were dead asleep, so I took the liberty of putting them up in your closet.”

Pushing the tray aside, I jump to my feet and run toward Rosa, inspecting the garments that now line the expansive walk-in closet.

Everything is designer. And everything is modest. Like, extremely modest. I quirk a brow. Mhm. Something tells me my brother had ulterior motives when asking Miss Cassie to pick out my new wardrobe.

Whirling around, I snatch the items from Rosa’s hands, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, but no thank you.”

She places a hand on her cheek and laughs. “You’re just like my daughters, headstrong.”

I sigh, hanging the clothes back up. She’s nothing like my mother and that’s a good thing. While I love her very much, she’s never looked after me with such warmth and concern as Rosa has, and I haven’t even been with her for a full twenty-four hours.

Quickly reversing my frown, I head toward my duffel and pull out some casual lounge pants with a crop top and some slides. We’re not leaving the grounds for the tour and I don’t see the need to get all dressed up.

I head to the bathroom to wash up and put a little makeup on, just in case I run into my style warden. I wonder what he’s up to.

Speaking through the door, I call out to Rosa, “So, did my brother leave for work already?”

“Yes, he flew out around six this morning.”

My stomach drops. Flew out? So he’s not in Texas anymore?

Trying to school my voice, I nonchalantly ask, “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

Yeah. I sound totally unaffected. Rolling my eyes, I groan.

“He didn’t say. You could always call him and ask him. I’m sure he’d love to hear from his sister.”

His sister. I make a strangled sound remembering the look he gave me last night as he listed the lines I’d crossed.

“Right.” Pulling the door open wide, I put on the most convincing grin I can muster, “Ready for that tour now.”