Page 37 of The Price of Mercy
I see that same compassionate streak in her as she talks to Zane. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can imagine how she’s trying to soothe him like she would a wounded animal.Coaxing them out of hiding. Treating their wounds. Making sure they feel safe and loved.
Zane has Kane for that. He doesn’t need Mercy.
Still, she latches on. I don’t think she can’t help herself. When she sees someone in pain, her natural instinct is to identify the source and stop the bleeding. It’s why she’s so good with her family’s business; their clients flock to her like doves whose wings need mending, and while Mercy’s tending to them, she smoothes out their feathers and reminds them how beautiful they are, no matter the darkness dragging them down. Grief is natural. It ebbs and flows like the tide, receding one moment to return in full force the next.
That’s what Vinicius Morningstar told me, anyway, at my first group counseling session. He hugged me without asking, breaking down a wall I hadn’t known I’d built.
Mercy gets her bleeding heart from her father.
Kane drums his fingertips against his thigh, watching Zane and Mercy just as intently as I am. “You know,” he says slowly, “I think they could be good together.”
“You’d say that no matter what.” Sighing, I roll my neck to relieve some of the tension. All this stress is killing me. “Besides, you don’t know if he even wants that.” Zane doesn’t seem like the sharing type. Every vibe I’ve gotten from him has been dark and violent. He’d probably slit his own throat before letting Kane throw him around like a piece of meat.
Lifting an eyebrow, Kane turns his attention to me. “And you do?”
“I know about love.” My eyes narrow as I try to get a better look at the unorthodox couple across the room. “It can make you do things you swore you never would.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Fuck off.” Kane wasn’t able to tie my left ankle down since it’s near the middle of the bed, so I kick his leg. “You changedthe plan without consulting me. We were supposed to tiehimup, not me.” I flex my arms and pull my bindings, but it’s no use. Whatever he used to tie me up is stronger than I am.
I wiggle my jaw to test its movement. The only reason Kane could tie me up in the first place is because he hit me without warning. More than once. “That was a cheap shot.”
Kane shrugs. “You punched him first. It’s only fair that you got punched back.”
“You hit me six times!”
“Whining about how badly I beat you, Sam? I never took you for a sore loser.” He clicks his tongue. “What does Mercy see in you?”
A shard of ice digs into my heart. He’s right, in a way. If I can’t even win in a fight against Kane, what good am I? How can I protect Mercy if it’s this easy to subdue me? Clenching my eyes shut, I swallow a groan and shudder as it settles in the pit of my stomach. I’m weaker than I thought. Pathetic. Useless.
My father’s voice echoes in my head as he hurls those same exact insults at me, reminding me just how little he thinks of me as a son. But none of that matters so long as he stays the fuck out of my life. I don’t need his approval.
I only need Mercy’s.
But she’s on the other side of the world right now, coaxing a stray to let down his guard and let her into his heart. Why, I’ll never understand. It’s not like she can save everyone. Trying is pointless, especially when we’re talking about someone as broken as Zane. She shouldn’t waste a second of her time or energy that she could be giving to me instead.
No matter how much love she pours into that man, he’ll never love her back.
Chapter 16
Zane
The heatof Mercy’s body is overwhelming. My thighs twitch as she settles deeper into my lap, making herself right at home. “What are you doing?” I hiss, clenching my fists uselessly. I’ve tried breaking out, but Kane zipped me in tight and left zero room for me to slip my wrists free. Of all the fucked up things he’s done, this has to be the worst. The good news, if you can call it that, is that Kane might be able to pull the truth out of me, but Mercy stands no chance.
Not even when she wiggles in my lap like that.
“Stop it.” My voice snaps, making her flinch. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose, determined to keep her out of my head. “Get the hell off me.”
“No.” Her voice is soft as satin, and her skin—I can’t feel it, but I can see it, and that’s damning enough. The scarf she wore this afternoon has disappeared, along with the sweater and long sleeves. There are bruises covering her body everywhere I look. Each one burns like a brand, searing into my mind. A handprint on her arm. Fingerprints dotting her neck. A hickey just above her collarbone. I keep my eyes closed, but it doesn’t matter. It’s too late to unsee them. The moment she walked into the room, I realized that I was doomed to suffer for my transgressions.
Those marks aren’t love bites and bruises. They were made with hate.
Hate thatIput into the world.
“Look at me,” Mercy whispers, cupping my cheek.
“No,” I parrot back, nearly laughing at how ridiculous this is.God, if I’d known what Kane was planning, I would have never come to this godforsaken cabin. Avacation, he’d said. Something fun and stress free. Like anything involving Mercy is stress free.
