Page 12 of The Price of Mercy
No one deserves him more than me. I’ve been here by his side the entire time. Theonlyconstant in his life. Supporting all of his fucked-up fantasies, from the endless stream of murders to the black market art deals that follow. Reaper may be the face of the business, but I’m the one running it from the shadows.
Reaper wouldn’t exist without me, and I can’t breathe without the man behind the mask.
I close the distance between us slowly, running my palms up his biceps, across his shoulders, wrapping my body around his and tugging him down on top of me. He collapses with a shudder, holding me so tightly that my bones ache. The drag of his lips over mine is sensual but no less intoxicating, the two of us breathing in time with each other. I feel his heartbeat beneath my palm and wish that it beat for me—and only me.
But I know that isn’t his truth, no matter how much I want it to be.
“I love you.” He sighs against my lips as he fists the sheets over my head. “Why isn’t that enough?”
Jealousy twists inside my chest, its thorns cutting into my heart. “I don’t like seeing you with other people.” I cling to him, scarcely able to breathe as I picture him and Mercy together. Panic rises like a tidal wave, threatening to take over. “I—” My voice catches. “I can’t lose you.”
Life without Kane is meaningless. I came to that realization long ago, when I nearly lost him to prison after our usual murder turned into a reckless double-homicide. I’d rather get locked up beside him than live free on my own. Shrinks would call it unhealthy, this dependency. I know that. But it doesn’t change anything.
I want Kane more than I want life itself.
Maybe it’s because I finally have him that I refuse to let go. After years of watching from the sidelines, my heart filled with a hunger that’s impossible to satisfy. I don’t just want Kane—I need him like oxygen.
And if he gives himself to Mercy, I’ll have to survive off the leftover scraps. Clenching my fists, I scratch Kane’s back with my fingernails. It’s not fair that I have to share, so I won’t. I refuse. Losing any part of him, no matter how small, will ruin me.
Kane pushes himself up on his forearms, his gaze gentle as it sweeps across my face. “I’m not going anywhere.” The divot between his eyebrows makes me feel guilty for saying my fears aloud. He draws a steady breath and laces our fingers together, pressing my hand into the mattress. “Zane—” My name falls past his lips like a sigh.
Is he disappointed? Tired? Exhausted from whatever he and Mercy got up to tonight?—
“You paranoid fucking bastard.” He laughs, clocking me so accurately that I’m stunned. “You need to trust me.” Squeezing my hand, he smiles. Some of the warmth returns to his eyes, but it’s quickly doused by whatever he’s keeping from me. The thing that’s making him act all erratic like this.
Likely Mercy—or rather, what happened with her tonight. He still hasn’t told me. Technically, I haven’t asked. We dodge the issue, knowing that it exists, but unwilling to bring it to light.
I try not to let it get to me, but it does. He may claim that he loves me, but he likes her. I can see it, clear as day. Hereallylikes her. Thinking of her puts this little wistful smile on his face, like he knows he shouldn’t be so taken with her but can’t help it. If he’s still interested in her after how badly she’s been broken, he’s falling in love with her, just like I feared.
Is it possible to love more than one person at the same time? Kane makes it look as easy as breathing, like he’s got more than enough love and affection for multiple people and himself. I barely have enough for him, let alone myself.
Maybe that’s why he needs her. Because I can only give him a fraction of the love he needs to survive. But that doesn’t answer the question ofwhy.
Why does it have to be Mercy?
“I don’t understand you.” Gazing into Kane’s eyes, I search for answers. “I don’t know why you’re so infatuated with her.”
He returns my gaze but takes a moment to respond, thinking carefully about what to say. “Let me show you.” Kissing the corner of my lips, he murmurs a gentlepleasethat spells disaster.
Facing what I’ve done to Mercy doesn’t scare me.
It’s the consequences—a fallout with Kane, a fistfight with Sam, a confrontation with the girl herself—that do. Because no matter how black and white I try to make our situation out to be, everything falls into shades of gray. Our relationships. Our feelings. And all the empty spaces in between where unspoken truths lie, waiting for us to shine a light on them.
Chapter 5
Sam
The furnace cools slowly.For such an expensive machine, I’d expected more of a bang—a suddenwhooshas all of our sins are carried away on the wind, or something. But no, Mercy and I sit in silence as the crematorium does its work over the next hour, neither of us brave enough to speak the truth.
I fucked up tonight.
For some reason, Mercy doesn’t seem upset about it.
I mean, she’s clearly not okay—but she’s not angry at me, and that’s the part that confuses the hell out of me. Apologies weigh down my tongue, too many of them to voice at once. I say them in my head, one at a time, over and over and over like I’m practicing lines as a troubled school boy who got smacked with a ruler for daydreaming about the girl one row over instead of taking my quiz with any sense of urgency.
I’m sorry for taking you to the party.
I’m sorry for being in a fraternity.
