Page 86 of At Your Mercy
“Maybe.” His lips curled into a slow, satisfied grin. “But aren’t we all?”
He gestured broadly to the room, to the cracked concrete and the faint outline of a water stain creeping up the wall. “You still haven’t grasped where we are yet?”
I scanned the basement again. “No.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Elias said softly. He crouched again, level with my face, and his eyes glinted like a cat playing with its prey. “You see, after the police had their fun here—after they ripped out all the carpets, cut out the floorboards, tore up the walls, I made an offer.”
I blinked at him, not understanding. “An offer?”
He smiled wider. “To buy the house.”
The words landed slowly. He couldn’t mean…
He chuckled, a sound full of dark delight. “I see the wheels turning in your head.”
My breath hitched.
No.
“You’re lying.”
He tilted his head. “Am I?”
My pulse picked up speed, hammering in my ears.
“I would’ve preferred to do this upstairs,” Elias said, his voice tender now. “It would’ve been perfect. I could’ve made you kneel in the exact spot his family died. That would’ve gotten a big reaction out of him. But the basement’s safer. You’re pretty prolific after all, and I can’t risk you escaping.”
I stared at him in horror and outrage.
He leaned in close, his breath brushing my ear. “He hasn’t been here since that night. I made sure of it. I never told himI owned it. Actually told him that the city had bulldozed it. But tonight…” His tone brightened, childlike with anticipation. “Tonight, he’ll come back. I can’t wait to see how it breaks him.”
I shook my head, but the motion only made the pain behind my eyes flare. “You sick son of a bitch.”
Elias stood. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Wesley. You should behonored.You’re part of the grand finale. I’ll make sure it’s a memorable death.”
I yanked hard against the ropes, fury thrumming under my skin. “You think he’s just going to come crawling back to you? That he won’t put a bullet between your eyes the second he sees what you’ve done?”
Elias smiled faintly, almost pityingly. “You still don’t understand him.” He turned and started up the stairs, voice floating back over his shoulder. “See you in a bit.”
The light dimmed as he reached the top step. The door creaked shut, and I was left staring at the empty stairs.
* * *
Elias and two of his men came back down after awhile, the silhouettes filling the stairwell like a slow rising tide. The light from above carved their faces into masks. Elias carried that same psychotic amusement from earlier.
“Almost showtime,” he said, like it was something to be excited about.
I kept my head down for a second, tasting blood and a hot, internal kind of fury.
“There’s something deeply wrong with you, you know that, right?”
Elias just smirked, adding fuel to the burning rage inside.
“You deserve to fucking rot in hell,” I spat. “You deserve everything that’s coming to you for what you did to Ronan, his family, every single person you’ve ever hurt.”
He didn’t bother pretending to be offended, laughing brightly. He leaned down close enough that his cologne hit me—the expensive kind that smelled like money and old roses—and watched me with a manic spark in his eye.
“You’re verydramatic, Wesley.” He drew the word out, as if he were savoring the sound. “I like it. Makes everything more interesting. But… I think there’s something I should clear up.” His smile grew.
