Page 72 of Brutal Mercy

“There was a fire last night. The store is gone. I’m so sorry, Luna.”

I set the mug on my nightstand. It’s either that or my trembling hands will drop it. My world tilts on its axis again. The place my parents built, that they poured their hearts and souls into, no longer exists. I can’t wrap my mind around the loss. It feels like someone punched a hole through my chest.

“And our house?” My voice sounds pinched, even to my ears.

“It’s still there. And I’ve already put some men on patrol there. They’ll guard it and report any disturbances back. I should have thought to put men on the store before now.”

He looks at me like I’m fragile glass about to shatter. I’m still in shock. That might come later. But for now, “I need to see it. It was my parents.”

He sighs. “I thought you might say that. I’ve already had the maid pack your things, all but the essentials and an outfit for you to wear.”

Because that’s what he does. He takes care of things. Does what he can to ease the burden for those he cares about. And I know he cares about me. It’s in his every touch, his every word and gesture. And it makes me love him more.

As much as I want to kiss him, I refrain and grab his hand, squeezing it, imparting my need to touch him in some way. “Thank you. It should only take me a minute to get ready.”

“You should eat something.”

“After. I can’t before.” Not when I feel like I want to vomit.

“Good enough. I’ll have Lorenzo get the car out front. As soon as you’re ready, we can leave.”

I nod and grab the things he set out for me. I carry it all into the bathroom so I can get ready in there. And even the outfit he put out for me—black leggings, knee-high black boots, and a chunky, oversized sweater in deference to the chill. The days are turning colder, with winter barreling toward the area like an avalanche.

We’re in the car inside of fifteen minutes. Hades even had my coffee put into a travel mug. Not that I’ve been able to do more than sip at it, because my stomach is roiling.

The drive to the store is fraught with tension. I know Hades is worried by the set of his jaw. And he should be. Everything I’ve known has been taken from me. The life I once lived is gone. My family is gone. I pray every day for Lyla’s return.

The SUV pulls up into a familiar parking lot. But that’s the only thing that looks the same. Because the store is nothing more than charred cinders. I scramble out of the vehicle when it’s barely come to a stop.

“Luna, wait.”

But I can’t. I need to see it. On shaky legs, I walk toward the burned-out building. It’s all gone. The cash register stands my dad built. The pictures of my family when the store first opened. That damn stupid bell.

It’s all gone. I press my hand to my cheek, and it comes away wet.

“Ah, miss, I’m sorry, but you can’t go in there.”

“I own it,” I say, but the words come out raspy.

And then I feel him. Hades comes up beside me and wraps his arm around my waist. And I lean. Because I’m breaking. I’ve lost too much. And I don’t know how to do anything but grieve. There were things in there I can never replace. And I don’t even have the energy to try.

“Can you tell us what happened? My wife’s family built this place,” Hades intercedes, taking charge like he does.

He and the fire marshall shake hands. “Can you tell me your whereabouts last night?”

“We were at our house in Denver. We have alibis if we need to produce them. But you’re only asking this because you think foul play was involved.”

“I don’t think, I know. An accelerant was used to start the fire in the back. It spread through the wooden building like it was kindling. Most of it was gone by the time the fire department arrived. And we only got here because the alarm went off, alerting the fire department.”

I stand, huddled against Hades’s side, my arms wrapped around my midsection, staring at the burned-out ruin. There’s been so much loss in my life. Too much.

And it’s a terrible grief carving me up from the inside out. This was the place where my sister and I would go after school every day. We’d sit in the office and do our homework or watch shows on the small thirteen-inch television. I started working part-time after school in my sophomore year. Dad taught me all the behind-the-scenes stuff. My dad always said he was preparing me to help him run the business after I graduated college.

But I never intended to return after college. I intended to wipe the dust of this small town off my feet and not look back when I went to college. And when they died, so did my dreams.

And it all comes crashing down upon me. Every last memory. Every shattered dream. The brittle edges I’ve held together for so long fall like rain.

Hades takes over. And I’m so grateful. Because I don’t have it in me to deal with this. There’s no space in my burned-out heart and soul. My mind can’t even formulate a response.

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