Page 20 of Mercy

But I can feel Tor's questions hanging in the air between us, and I know he’s going to ask me about them.

Lily returns a couple minutes later, her stride purposeful as she sets down two steaming mugs of coffee. "So, about Tallahassee," she says, her voice lowered. "Shit got heavy down south. We had to move, see what the market was like up here."

I scoff, my fingers tightening around the warm mug. "The market, right."

The euphemism isn't lost on me.

I know exactly what kind of 'market' my family deals in.

Tor's eyes dart between us, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Before he can ask, he clears his throat and says, "I think we'll also take a french toast sampler, and a pancake sampler. Sunny side up and scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage."

Lily's eyebrows shoot up, a smirk playing on her lips. "At least your boyfriend knows what he wants."

She winks at me before sauntering off.

I feel my cheeks heat up, but Tor just chuckles, seemingly unfazed by the 'boyfriend' comment.

As soon as Lily's out of earshot, he leans in, his green eyes intense. "What was that about?"

My stomach churns, memories threatening to surface.

I swallow hard, pushing them back down.

"It's... complicated," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. "My family is no good. It's why I got away from them."

Tor's hand reaches across the table, his fingers brushing mine. The touch is gentle, grounding. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he says softly.

I nod, grateful for his understanding, even as my mind races with all the things I can't bring myself to say.

The things he made me do.

The shame.

The fear.

I take a sip of coffee, hoping it'll wash away the bitter taste of the past.

I bite my lip, averting my gaze.

My fingers fidget with the napkin on the table, tearing tiny pieces off the corner. "It's some fucked up shit, Tor," I whisper, the words barely audible over the clinking of dishes and murmur of other diners.

He reaches out, gently stilling my hand. "Then what is it about?" he probes.

The warmth of his touch sends a shiver through me.

I take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words.

How do I explain the darkness without drowning him in it? "It's... it's not something I like to remember," I finally manage, my voice trembling slightly. "Some things are better left in the past."

Tor's thumb traces circles on the back of my hand, the gesture soothing despite my inner turmoil. "I get that," he says softly. "But sometimes talking about it can help."

I shake my head, feeling my walls start to crumble. "You don't understand," I choke out, fighting back tears. "If you knew... if you really knew what happened..." I trail off, unable to finish the thought.

The idea of Tor looking at me differently, with pity or disgust, makes my chest tighten.

I've worked so hard to leave that life behind, to become someone new.

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