Page 128 of Cruel Love

Caleb lowers into the chair by the window. “You’re Marilyn Black,” she says.

My eyes grow wider and Marilyn smiles at me.

“Yes, that’s right,” she says, her gaze locked on mine. “You met my son, Mercer. Is that correct?”

I swallow hard, sensing the same cruelty behind her smile as he had. “Yes.”

Marilyn lowers the blade to her side and takes a step back. “Ms. Roberts...” She sits down on the edge of the bed. “I do believe I owe you an apology. On my son’s behalf, I mean.”

I stay standing, my backside pressed against the dresser. “Why?”

She softens, amused. “He did cause some physical damage, did he not? When I saw what he was up to — on live television no less, well... you can understand why a mother might feel some embarrassment for their child’s behavior. That’s not how I raised my boy to settle disputes, but boys will be boys, as they say.”

I look at Caleb as her brow furrows.

“I have a question for you,” Marilyn says, tapping her knife against her thigh. “I think I already know the answer but... if you wouldn’t mind giving a mother some closure, I would greatly appreciate it. Is my son dead, Ms. Roberts?”

I eye the man at the door, tall and brutal. Even if I could overtake Marilyn, there’s no way I’d get past him.

“Yes,” I answer her. “Mercer is dead.”

Marilyn’s face softens. She looks down, her eyes bright with unfallen tears. “Well...” She takes in a sharp breath and composes herself. “As I expected. Thank you.”

I nod. If this were anyone else, I might offer a condolence or two, but I stay quiet.

She pats the bed beside her. “Do sit down, dear.”

I hesitate.

“I said, sit down.”

I flinch at the sudden shift in her tone. Even her eyes look a shade darker than they were before. I ease forward and sit down on the bed beside her.

“Would you tell me how he died?” she asks.

“Uh, he...” I look at the knife resting on her knee. “He was shot.”

“By you?”

“No.” I look down as my shoulder twinges. “Fox shot him.”

“Where?” She cracks a smile as I lean back. “Excuse my morbid curiosity but when you’re a mother, perhaps you’ll understand. You experienced my son’s final moments. I would like to know what they were like.”

“He...” A lump grows in my throat. “Mercer took me hostage,” I say. “He held me at gunpoint and Fox... pointed a rifle at us.”

I bite down, trying to hold back tears as memories of blood and pain come roaring back.

Marilyn pats my arm. “I imagine that was quite traumatic for you but please continue.”

I shudder at her dark eyes. That was not a request.

“Fox couldn’t get a clear shot at Mercer. So, he told me to close my eyes,” I say as a tear falls down my cheek. “He shot me instead.”

Her jaw drops. “Really?”

“The bullet went through my shoulder...” I pause, “and hit Mercer in the heart. Fox saved my life and... we left him to bleed to death.”

She takes a moment. “Alone?” she finally asks.

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