Page 151 of Mercy (The Sins Trilogy 3)
She looks at me worriedly. I turn away, unable to deal with her concern.
“I’m just glad you’re safe. I panicked when I got a call from Harry.” Edgar’s voice is still rough with tension. “I can’t believe you managed to hit him at all. That .357 shoots high and to the right. I was going to have it looked at but kept forgetting.”
Ivy starts to reach for me, but I pull away. Jesus, doesn’t she see what I’m covered with?
“Tony,” she says softly. Just like Katherine did when she was bleeding out.
A huge knot twists in my chest, full of acid and something else old and toxic. “Don’t.” My voice is awful, like sandpaper grating over glass. “I’m not clean.”
My hands shake with the need to touch her, feel her warm skin on mine. But I clench them into fists.
She can’t be tainted.
When we arrive at Edgar’s home, Bobbi’s in the foyer, her hair wet and her face red with anger. One look at me and Ivy, and her complexion turns redder.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s my fault.”
I glance at her, not understanding. Why is it her fault I’m a murderer? It started so long ago, before we ever met. Before I was old enough for middle school.
“No, it isn’t,” Ivy says. “I asked you to drink the tea with me and Sue Ellen.”
“Is he all right?” Father steps forward.
I almost take a step back at the sight of him. What the hell is he doing here? Who is he here to comfort? What is he going to cover up to protect the family’s image?
I finally note that he looks terrible—his eyes seem to have sunken, and his lips are thin and tight.
He looked just like this back then. Asked the same question, too.
He watched the judgment. Then he told me I couldn’t stay. I had to go away. Alone. Someplace far, far away. So I couldn’t upset anybody. So I couldn’t taint anybody.
I brace myself for Mother to show at any moment. To rage and condemn me, lash out at everyone who dares to say a word on my behalf.
I don’t deserve to be defended. I don’t deserve to stay. I don’t deserve anything except punishment.
“It isn’t his blood.” Ivy puts a hand on my shoulder.
I tense, trying to pull away, but there isn’t much room to maneuver. I’m trapped, surrounded by Ivy, Edgar, Father and Bobbi.
Age-old panic and self-preservation twist together to form a freezing ball in my gut. I draw in air. My heart is knocking painfully against my chest, hard and fast, like it wants to burst through the skin and bones.
I have to get out of here.
Breathing shakily, I walk through a space between Father and Bobbi and move rapidly toward the guest room Edgar gave me.
I hear footsteps behind me.
You monster! You murderer!
Don’t follow me. Say nothing. Go away.
Tony… It hurts.
The old, toxic knot in my chest grows bigger. I can’t think. My heart is ready to explode.
I step into the room. Ivy follows and kicks the door closed behind her, the sound like a bang of a gunshot. My heart gallops, knocking against my chest so hard that I feel like my ribs are breaking.
I can smell the gunpowder. The blood. So much fucking blood. Mint on her breath as she pants, struggles to breathe.
