Page 48 of At Your Mercy
His building looked like any other with its chipped paint, crickety death-trap stairs, and flickering bulbs.
He answered on the fourth knock, face and hair damp like he’d just showered. He didn’t look overjoyed to see me at his door.
“You found me,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“You left the hotel without saying goodbye,” I said. “Wanted to check up on you.”
He gave a humorless laugh and crossed his arms. “Uh-huh. You shouldn’t be here, Wes.”
“Probably not, but here I am. Care to let me in?” I nodded to the space behind him.
Ro hesitated, then, his voice a hair softer, he said, “You really shouldn’t be here. If you found my address, I assume you also know whose apartment this is.”
I didn’t argue with him. Instead, I nudged past him and stepped inside. His apartment was small, with worn and mismatched furniture. Given Elias’s wealth, I found it odd that he’d housed his most prized possession in the projects—not to mention the lack of security.
Ro watched me closely as I took a look around. “What do you want, Wes?” He sounded tired, resigned. His usual fire had dimmed, and the sweet obedience I’d seen in bed was nowhere to be found.
“I’m here to propose a deal.”
He laughed coldly and shook his head. “I’m not fucking you again.”
My brows furrowed at that. “That’s not… Wait—you liked it though, right? Did I hurt you?”
He sighed, then walked past me to take a seat on the couch. It was only when he passed me that I noticed he had on an oversized t-shirt and nothing else. His shirt just barely covered his ass, leaving his long legs on full display.
“I didn’t hate it,” he muttered. “But it was a mistake.” Quieter, he said, “And you didn’t hurt me. It just can’t happen again…”
“I’m glad I didn’t hurt you.” I joined him on the couch, taking a seat on the opposite end from where he was. When our eyes met, I could briefly see a glimmer of vulnerability in his, although it disappeared just as fast. “I want us to work together.”
“I don’t think that’s a great idea, since, you know, I still have to kill you and all,” Ro retorted.
“Yes, because that’s something you’re definitely going to accomplish after your first three failures,” I answered, smirking at the annoyance on his face. He looked away, pursing his lips. The silence grew around us. The ceiling fan clicked slowly; the city hummed outside. I cleared my throat, sending him a smile I hoped came off as sincere—because it was. His shoulders loosened. “I can help you escape him,” I said softly.
He made a sound in the back of his throat; half-anger, half-laughter. “Like that could actually happen,” he muttered, his tone bitter and hopeless.
“Look. It won’t be easy,” I said. “I’m proposing that you basically become a double agent. It’ll be dangerous, and I know that, but Ro… don’t you want to be free of him? You can start a new life. You asked for my help, and I want to give it to you.”
He stared at me blankly. “And how do youproposewe do that?”
“You would just need to feed me some information. Literally anything that could be used to bring him down. My plan is to anonymously tip off the cops once we’ve gathered more dirt.”
“I’d be arrested then, too.”
“Not if you aren’t in any of the info we send. My team can scrub your existence from it all.”
His expression cracked with something like a scowl. “How do you expect me to trust you and whoever is working for you?”
“Because I can’t let someone like Elias exist in the world and sleep at night,” I said, getting his attention. “Because he’s been hurting people, and because I’d like to put an end to that. And—maybe—because I don’t like the idea of you living how you are. I need… I need to help you.”
There it was. The simple, unadorned truth that had been growing in me recently. That fierce, protective need that I hadn’t felt so strongly since I learned that my nephews were being abused. The same feeling that had led me to start my whole operation in the first place.
He laughed then, sharp and disbelieving. “You think you can make me free, Wes? This isn’t a fairytale. This is just how my life is meant to go, I think.”
“Ronan—”
He cut me off sharply. “You don’t know Elias. You don’t know what he—what I have done. You want to help me because what, you’ll have a guilty conscience if you don’t?”
My jaw ticked, and I leveled him with my stare. “You’re right. I don’t know you. But I refuse to walk away from this without at least trying. I don’t give a fuck what you’ve done, because I’m pretty damn sure you never had a choice in the matter.”
