Page 59 of The Price of Mercy
Samuel clicks his tongue. “Everything has a price, Mercy Morningstar.” A self-satisfied smirk makes him look like the devil himself. “And I’ve paid yours.”
Chapter 23
Kane
Samuel Wright doesn’t justskyrocket to the top of my hit list, he wipes every other name from existence. All it takes is one disgusted look at my boyfriend and one stupid fucking decisionto damn him to an early grave. After dropping the most bizarre info bomb I’ve ever heard, he gives one final order before finally leaving us alone: a parting gift for his son’s unlikely bedfellows.
“Break his arm.”
I fight against every man in the room. Every single one feels my fists, but it’s not enough. The carving knife that Mercy dropped is lost in the chaos, and I’m shoved face-first to the ground to witness these men—these demons without fucking souls—break the man I love.
Zane doesn’t scream, but Mercy does. Clawing to get to Wright’s guards, she spews out curses that I’ve never heard of, more furious than I’ve ever seen her. Like a bat out of hell, she slips free from Sam’s grasp and jumps on someone’s back, scratching their face furiously enough to peel back their skin.
“Don’t hurt her,” Wright Senior orders, looking at Mercy much like he might stare at a rabid dog. “Yet.”
“You fucking bastard!” Sam is kept at bay while his father looks between each of us, coldly calculating our worth like we’re pigs at auction.
“Careful, now, Samson, or I might change my mind about your little toy.” Once someone finally restrains Mercy, he grabs her chin and squeezes until her mouth pops open. “She’s breakable, after all, much like that one.” He glances at Zane lying motionless on the ground andtuts.“I was hoping he’d scream.” Releasing Mercy, he suddenly steps on Zane’s broken arm. “Come now, let’s hear it. I want to know how badly it hurts.” When Zane doesn’t so much as whimper, Samuel snarls. “You stupid dog.” He lifts his foot and slams it back down on Zane’s swollen flesh. “Maybe we should break both your arms, hm?”
“Stop it!” Mercy tries to kick Samuel. “What iswrongwith you?”
Ignoring her, Samuel sighs and backs off, finally turning to leave. “The fun will have to wait, however.” He turns to his son. “Midnight, Samson. Don’t be late.”
Before he can escape, I make a promise. Speaking from the depths of my black heart, I ensure that the fucker can hear me. “I’m going to gut you, SamuelfuckingWright.” Grinning, I stare at the bleeding cut on his cheek. That’s only the beginning of his torment. “I will make you scream for a death that never comes. Your lungs will burn and your soul with whither and I will be your fucking God.”
He pauses in the doorway and speaks with his back turned to us. “There is no God, only His forsaken children.”
The armed guards quickly follow their employer, leaving the four of us to lick our wounds. Mercy crawls on her hands and knees to Zane’s side, and I join her in time to help Zane sit up. His face is pale and cold sweat slicks his skin, but otherwise, he’s sort of okay. When I touch his arm, he hisses in pain.
“I’m going to kill him,” I growl, slamming my fist into the floor. “Fucking bastard.”
“Let’s get you to a hospital,” Mercy suggests softly, her voice easing some of the tension crackling behind my eyes. Jesus, that hurts.
I shut my eyes and take a few deep breaths. “Not the hospital.” We don’t like having public records for this very reason—people like Samuel fucking Wright can track us down. “The Box.” We may not be official members of the bratva, but the least they can do is patch us the fuck up on their dime.
“Medical facility,” Zane explains for me, wincing as I lift him off the ground. “I can walk.”
“Yeah, but—” I swallow the fury burning in my throat. If I don’t carry Zane, I might charge after those bastards and get myself killed. That won’t help anyone, least of all Zane.
He must understand where my thoughts are leading, because he brushes his hand over my forehead and smoothes out my brow. “Hey. We’ll get him. There’s not a single target we haven’t put down.”
Mercy hovers nearby and bites her bottom lip as we both turn our heads to face her. She’s the exception to that rule—a permanent one, as far as I’m concerned. I give her as reassuring of a smile as I can. Now isn’t the time to untangle my feelings about her, especially when I’m not even sure exactlyhowI’m feeling. Heart in my throat, oddly nervous, kind of excited?
Yeah, I’ll keep all that to myself.
“What about—” Mercy looks over her shoulder at Sam, who’s wound so tightly that he looks like he’s about to blow. When she reaches for him, he flinches away.
“Don’t touch me right now.”
“Sam—”
“Don’t. Please.”
“But this isn’t your fault.”
He runs both hands through his hair and stares up at the ceiling. “I ignored my dad’s calls and texts, Mercy. This is his way of punishing me for it.”
Talk about a shitty fucking parent.
