Page 20 of Endgame

Mercedes

I WOULD NOT LET him get to me. I refused to allow Rourke Owens to hold any sort of power over my emotions.

“Sounds like you’re jealous, Six,” Rourke taunted, towering above me with a shit eating grin etched on his face.

Like hell… “And it sounds like you’re delusional, Rourke,” I shot back before turning my back on him and rushing towards the house. I needed to get away from this boy. When I was around him, I didn’t feel in control of my emotions. And I wasn’t jealous. He could screw whoever the hell he wanted. It didn’t matter to me who he brought into his room at night, just as long as he didn’t keep me awake while he wasentertainingthem. Asshole.

Shoving the front door open, I marched into the foyer, holding onto my temper by the skin of my teeth.

Breathe, Mercy, breathe. Don’t let that jackass get to you.

“You’re pissy today,” Rourke taunted as he followed close behind me “What’s wrong with you, Six?”

You! You’re what’s wrong with me…“Leave me alone, Rourke,” I shot back, jaw clenched, moving for the staircase. “I’m tired and hungry and in no mood for your bullshit.”

I heard Rourke laughing, but thankfully, he didn’t follow me upstairs.

When I reached my bedroom, I slipped inside and slammed the door shut before leaning against it. Exhaling a loud sigh, I closed my eyes and forced myself to calm the hell down. I needed to get a grip on myself. I couldn’t let this guy continue to get to me like this.

Iwouldn’t.

Mercedes

CHECKING MY REFLECTION in the bathroom mirror, I nodded in approval.

The job I had managed to snag at a coffee house on the pier required the female staff wear a black, tight-fitted skirt and fitted white shirt.

Thankfully, they supplied the uniform, and although I didn’t own a decent pair of black shoes, the manager had assured me my black Converse were fine.

When I popped in last week and handed my resume to the insanely hot manager, he’d hired me on the spot. He told me to be in bright and early the following Monday.

Grabbing my backpack off my bed, I headed out, feeling both nervous and excited about my first day at a new job.

When I reached the bottom of the staircase, I headed straight for the kitchen, ready to go for what had to be round thirty with my darling stepbrother.

I’d been living here two weeks now and it was becoming glaringly obvious that Rourke Owens and I wouldneverbe able to stomach being in the same room together for longer than five minutes at a time, much less hold down a civilized conversation.

He hated my guts which was perfectly fine by me since I despised the ground the big dick walked on. In the days that had passed since our altercation at the beach, we had clashed on several more issues.

Rourke played music ridiculously loud at night. Our parents didn’t care. They never once told him to stop or rein in the debauchery. Once I learned that Amelia’s bedroom was on the ground floor, and our parent’s room took up the entire third floor, I realized these late-night shenanigans were for my benefit.

Of course, I drowned out his shitty rock music by blaring my favorite television show on Netflix at the very maximum my flat screen was capable of projecting. To which I was rewarded with some sort of ball being banged against my wall for a solid thirty minutes so hard that it caused the TV to fall off the wall stand it was mounted to and crash to the floor.

I returned the gesture by picking up said television and stalking into the enemy’s territory and casually dropping it on his head. Lucky for him, it was a flimsy flat screen, because the way he made me feel it could have just as well been a cement block.

Asshole.

To my absolute delight, the kitchen was void of all traces of Rourke Owens when I walked inside. Immediately, my mood brightened to the point I was borderline smiling when I poured myself a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Mercedes,” Gabe’s voice filled the room. “You look… dare I say, happy?”

Damn…

“I was,” I muttered under my breath before slugging back a mouthful of coffee.

“Hmm?” Gabe asked as he poured himself a coffee. “Did you say something?”

“Nope.” I watched my stepfather as he prepared his drink. Gabe was extremely handsome for a man in his mid-forties, with a strong physical physique and a full head of dark hair that only bore the slightest slither of silver. His looks alone made me suspicious.

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