Page 26 of At Your Mercy
I cursed under my breath, yanking on my pants and shoving my knife into the hidden sheath at my side.
Heading out the door, pulse sharp and uneven in my throat, I couldn’t help the sick twist in my gut because part of me wasn’t dreading Wes seeing through the lie.
It was dreading that he wouldn’t.
The short drive into the heart of downtown from my apartment on the outskirts of the city was uneventful; my Uber driver was content to sit in comfortable silence while the radio played softly in the background.
I had a car, a beat-up old thing, but parking downtown gave me way too much anxiety to be healthy.
He dropped me off at the curb outside the bustling farmers’ market. I weaved my way through the herds of tourists, sellers, and locals alike, my head on a swivel for any sign of Wesley.
I hadn’t been able to plant a tracker on him, so I was stuck wandering around his known haunts, just hoping to cross paths.
It had to have been at least an hour until I finally spotted him standing at a booth displaying colorful art pieces.
Wes stood with his hands tucked neatly into the pockets of his coat, posture loose but self-assured as he examined a painting of a stormy coastline. Even from a distance, he carried an air about him that commanded attention.
My steps slowed, the crowd moving in waves on either side of me while I just… stared.
He looked a bit older today—maybe it was the streaks of gray in his beard catching in the weak daylight, or perhaps it was just my imagination. But somehow that made him appear even sharper, steadier—formidable.
I took a breath and forced my legs to move, walking through the press of bodies until I reached him.
Without speaking, I slid into the empty space beside him, close enough that my sleeve brushed his coat.
He didn’t look at me right away. He hummed low in his throat, his eyes still fixed on the canvas in front of him. Then, calmly said, “I was wondering when you’d catch up.”
“You make it sound like you’ve been waiting.”
Wes finally turned his head toward me, those dark eyes taking me in like he had all the time in the world. “Maybe I have been.”
My stomach dipped, though I kept my face smooth, lips curling lazily. “Well, sorry for the wait. I haven’t been in here before.”
He smiled, the crow’s feet at his eyes crinkling. “There’s certainly a lot to see, isn’t there?” His voice was low, almost drowned out by the shuffle and chatter around us.
Heat prickled at the back of my neck in response to the deep cadence of his voice. “Yeah, lotta people too. Is it even safe for you to be here? Someone could stab you and disappear into the crowd.”
His smirk was subtle, a flicker of amusement tugging at his beard. “Are you worried for me?”
I rolled my eyes, the corners of my mouth pulling up against my will. “Course not. Just don’t want someone else stealing my prey.”
Wes laughed, a booming sound that made my heart lurch. “Of course, how silly of me.” Shaking his head, he reached up and tapped the edge of the painting with a single finger. “Pick something for me.”
I blinked at him, thrown. “Huh?”
“You heard me, babydoll.” His tone didn’t waver, calm and commanding all at once. “Pick out one of these pieces for me.”
My pulse tripped, and I glanced at the row of paintings, fingers twitching against my thigh. My instincts screamed to scoff, to walk away, to sneer at his smugness—but my body betrayed me. I pointed to a smaller canvas, far more muted and quiet than the rest, with a lone figure standing against the crashing waves.
Wes’s gaze flicked there, then back to me. “That one is beautiful. Different than the others, too.”
I nodded faintly, still feeling off-kilter, watching silently as he got the artist’s attention and exchanged payment. The woman beamed at Wes, smiling widely as she wrapped up his purchase and handed it over.
After thanking her, he turned back to face me, bag in hand.
I swallowed hard, forcing my voice steady. “You didn’t have to buy it. I don’t know anything about art, you know. What if the others were better?”
“I wanted the one you chose,” he said casually, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Now, come on, let me treat you to lunch.”
