Between Sin and Salvation

Chapter V

Louise refused to admit to herself just how much Mr. Shelby's words had lodged themselves in her mind, nagging with every passing day. The more time that slipped by, the more unsettled she became. It was a waiting game, and she knew all too well that it was his move to make.

Thoughts churned relentlessly in her mind as she leaned her head against the lip of her rust-stained tub, the cool porcelain a sharp contrast to her flushed skin. She relished the cold water that pricked at her skin, eager to wash off the cold sweat that clung to her after a fitful night's sleep. The light of the rising sun barely filtered through the grimy window, casting long shadows across the room. She had been awake for hours, unable to find solace in rest, deciding exhaustion was preferable to confronting the memories of her past.

Fingers sufficiently pruned, she swiftly stepped out of the bath, wrapping a towel tightly around herself. Then, she did something she rarely allowed herself to do, she glanced at her reflection in the small, tarnished mirror that hung precariously above the sink. This was the only time she could bear to look at herself when the water dripping from her hair twisted it into ringlets so reminiscent of her mama's. There weren't many pieces of her maman left, but this slight, fleeting resemblance was one, and it would have to be enough.

She knew that if she allowed it, her ghosts would linger. With a weary sigh, she sloppily half-dressed herself before emerging from the bathroom. The moment she stepped out, she froze.

There, seated at her deteriorating kitchen table, was none other than Mr. Shelby. Clad in a sharp blue three-piece suit, he lounged back on the creaking wooden chair, his overcoat carelessly draped over its back. A cigarette dangled lazily from his lips, the smoke curling toward the ceiling. His infamous peaky cap, lined with razor blades, lay ominously on the table beside him. The early morning light streamed through the window, only seeming to intensify the blue of his eyes, making them more piercing than ever. This was her domain, but he had made it his.

"Mr. Shelby, I wasn't expecting company," she said flatly, her fingers tightened around the sleeves of her blouse as she mustered the courage to return his gaze.

His eyes roamed languidly over her figure, lingering on the ringlets of damp hair clinging to her neck and the droplets of water that clung to her eyelashes. Finally, they settled on the unbuttoned white blouse that exposed her light blue bandeau brassiere. His expression remained unreadable, almost indifferent to her state of undress, but his pupils dilated for just a moment.

"Clearly," he replied evenly, his voice cool and controlled.

Louise lifted her chin, refusing to acknowledge his presence as she moved with deliberate calm. She ignored the weight of his gaze, a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. With steady hands, she buttoned her blouse before tucking it neatly into her trousers. She rummaged through the dresser, fingers brushing over fabric until she found her suspenders. Slowly, she slipped them over her shoulders, the motions unhurried as if indulging in the fantasy that if she ignored him long enough, he might simply vanish.

"Not going to offer me tea?" he taunted, pulling her attention back to him.

"I would if I thought you were the type of man who drank tea," she replied, combing her fingers through her wet hair, the strands clinging to her fingers. "Unfortunately, I'm all out of whiskey," she added, her tone laced with fake consolation.

He took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with ease. Then, with a polished loafer, he pushed the wooden chair across from him, the grating sound echoing through the silence of the cramped flat. "Sit."

"Such a gentleman you are, Mr. Shelby, pulling my chair out and everything," Louise mocked before stiffly lowering herself in the creaking wooden chair.