Page 82 of Endgame

I folded my arms across my chest as I thought about what she’d just told me. “Are you using me?” I finally asked with a snort. It probably wasn’t something I should be laughing at, but I couldn’t help it. The thought of little Molly befriending me to get close to Rourke’s best friend had me close to convulsions. One look at her guilt-ridden expression and I knew I hit the nail on the head. “I feel so…violated,” I laughed. “Omigod, this is hilarious.”

“Wait, you’re not mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad.” I waved my hand dismissively and bit back another laugh. “I’m using you too. I need a friend in this place. You’re giving me that.” Shrugging, I added, “Feel free to use me all you want – though, I should warn you now, I threw Daryl in our swimming pool when I first moved here, so I may not be very useful to you.”

Molly’s brown eyes widened. “You didn’t!”

I nodded. “Rourke threw me in to make a point. Daryl laughed at him doing it, so I after I dragged Rourke in, I tossed Daryl’s ass in to keep him company.”

“Holy shit,” Molly squeezed out then.

“What?”

“He’s coming over!”

“Who?”

“Omigod, they’rebothcoming over.” She began to fan herself.

I gaped. What. The. Actual. Hell... “Molly, are you okay?”

“I can’t,” she squeaked. “I can’t…Omigod…Hey, Rourke!”

The seat scraped beside me. Moments later, he was in my peripheral vision, sitting less than two feet from me.

Why?

“Hey, Molly,” Rourke replied with a smile. I gave him a mental brownie point for knowing Molly’s name. It meant nothing to Rourke of course, but it did to her. He looked at me then and nodded. “Six.”

“Rourke,” I acknowledged, because I had no idea of what else to say. What was he doing? Why was he here? What the fuck did he want? Was he here to humiliate me or something? He’d done enough of that the other night to last me a lifetime.

“Mercy James,” Daryl greeted me with a smirk as he spilled himself into the seat beside Molly. He turned and took a good long look at my friend and smiled. “And Blondie.” He looked harder at her. “How the hell are you, Blondie?”

“Hey, Daryl,” I snickered, unable to keep a serious face. It was hard when Molly looked like she had a bomb under her chair. “And her name is Molly.”

“Molly,” Daryl repeated, with a flirty wink. “Cute name for a cute girl.”

“Thank you,” Molly choked out, looking like she was about to faint.

Reaching over, Daryl snagged a fry from my tray and bit the end of it. “So, what’s happening, girls?”

“Nothing much,” I replied, feeling incredibly unnerved. Rourke was sitting beside me, and while he wasn’t saying anything to me, hewaslooking. He was staring so hard at me I was finding it a struggle not to pant. “Just…uh, eating.”Lame, Mercy. Lame as hell.

“Mercy and I were discussing our plans for the weekend,” Molly added, lying.

I frowned at her.

What the hell was she talking about?

She begged me with her eyes to go with it.

I sighed. “Yeah, we were. I was telling Molly here, I’m really looking forward to her party.”

Daryl’s brows rose in surprise. “Party?”

“Uh-huh,” Molly replied in an uncertain tone.

“When?”

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