Page 76 of Penance

A gentle touch on my back startles me, and I realize Draco is crouched beside me, his hand on my back. He gathers my hair, holding it back as I gasp for breath, my stomach clenching painfully. His other hand rests on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

“It’s alright, Mercy,” he says. “Let it out.”

I shudder, my body wracked with sobs as I spill my guts onto the concrete. It splatters across the sidewalk and tears stream from my eyes. I gulp hard, fighting for my breath.

The wave passes, and I look over at him.

“Why are you doing this, Draco?” I whisper. “Why are you helping me?”

His dark eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I think I see a flicker of… something? But it’s gone before I can even realize what it is.

“Because you need me to,” he says simply, and he reaches up, his thumb brushing away a tear that lingers on my cheek.

Chapter 16

Draco

The rain-streaked window reflects in Mercy’s glasses. Her eyes are distant as the world outside blurs into a wash of gray. I grip the steering wheel tighter, stealing glances at her as we pull away from the doctor’s office. The ultrasound is still fresh in my mind, a tiny blip pulsating with life, tethering Mercy to me for the rest of her life.

She doesn’t notice my grin. She’s too caught up in her pain, clutching the ultrasound pictures so tight that her fingers shake. Her long hair hangs over one shoulder, a thick veil that obscures her face.

She looks so delicate, so breakable.

“You shouldn’t worry so much, Mercy,” I say. “It’s not good for the baby. Not good for you, either.”

She doesn’t respond, just continues to stare out the window. Her silence is a symphony. I can taste her fear, her apprehension, and it’s so fucking sweet. I can hear her swallow, hard, and then sniffle.

She’s crying again.

Hearing her struggle is amazing to me. She’s a moth, trapped in my flames, frantically beating her wings. But she can’t get away, not now that she’s pregnant.

I fucking own her.

I reach over, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. She flinches, but I don’t pull away. Instead, I let my hand linger, tracing the shell of her ear, enjoying the way she shakes. It’s like poking an old bruise, except the pain isn’t mine to savor.

“Everything will be fine, Mercy. I promise.”

She turns to look at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. There’s a silent plea in her gaze, a desperate hope that I’ll be her savior rather than her downfall.

It’s hilarious, really.

But I don’t laugh, not yet.

Soon.

“You should rest when we get home,” I tell her. “You need to take care of yourself. I’ll make lunch, okay?”

She nods, her eyes dropping to the ultrasound picture again. Her fingers trace the tiny shape, a mixture of fear and something else—reluctant affection, maybe.

The car rolls to a stop at a red light, and I take the opportunity to stare at her. Her cheeks are pale, her lips slightly parted as she takes shallow breaths. Her throat bobs as she swallows, and her chest swells with every breath she gasps for.

She’s beautiful.

My fucking masterpiece.

The rain pours down around us, like her God is crying along with her. The raindrops drum on the roof of the car, like the sound of stampeding hooves. Water slides down the windshield in a torrent, splashed away now and then by the swipe of the wipers, groaning in displeasure.

“Draco?” she says, looking over at me.

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