Page 54 of Liar's Heart
Taking a knee, he holds his free hand out, waiting for my foot. The gesture is painfully reminiscent of a different time in this room, one that wasn’t so long ago but might as well be a lifetime away now. Back when my biggest concern was notfalling for the man I planned to murder. Nostalgia hits me in the chest, only to be replaced with disgust when I look down and see poisonous green eyes looking up at me instead of stormy gray.
Vowing to cut off every finger he lays on me and force-feed them to him, I hold onto the bed frame next to me and set my foot in his waiting palm. He wraps long, cool fingers around the heel, angling me so he can fit the key into the metal cuff around my ankle. The lock clicks, freeing me of my chains, but not my captor.
Alec drops both the key and cuff on the ground and begins to rub the marked skin underneath, encouraging blood to flow back into the sore skin. His fingers glide upward, softly dancing along my calf before cupping the back of my leg with his whole hand. The gesture is too proprietorial, and I can't contain my revulsion as a shudder ripples through me.
I want to fight back so badly. I could have this man on his back with my hands around his throat within seconds, but I can’t do it.
Alec must interpret my response as pleasure because he begins trailing his fingers along my leg again. His eyes follow the path of his fingers, no doubt seeing the goose bumps rising in their wake. “It's unfortunate the way everything worked out between us, Merrick. I really was pleased to take you as my bride. We could have done great things together, you and I. Though, I suppose we still are.”
I want to spit in his face. Break his nose and finger paint with his blood. But now might be the only opportunity I ever get for answers. I have so many questions only this man can answer, but I may only get the one. So I pick the question all the others lead back to. The one that’s clanged in my heart like a bell, reverberating through me for years: “Why me?”
His expression doesn't change. He doesn't even look at me, like I didn't just ask him to explain why he’s single-handedly sought to destroy me for years. Why he murdered myparents, my lover. Why he set in motion the events that led me straight into his son's arms, only to try to take that future from me as soon as it became the one I wanted. Alec doesn't look up from the trail of goose bumps he keeps tracing into my skin because he doesn't care about the carnage he's left me to sift through for the last decade.
He doesn't fucking care.
But he does answer me. “Elora was an elegant solution to an inconvenient problem. Thomas had to go, but they were already married, and therefore, she was tied to the Sinclair estate. She was young enough to marry again and would have taken some of our assets in doing so. Plus, she was pregnant, and the sooner I could secure an heir, the better. If Ender had been a girl, I at least knew she was fertile and could try again.
“But she never did take well to her new circumstances, never did accept me as anything more than her jailer. As Ender grew up, I did my best to mold him into my protégé, a legacy to be proud of, but I'm afraid he somehow always took after Thomas, even though he had no idea the man ever existed. I tried to rear it out of him, but it never hurts to have a backup plan. And really, it'd be preferable for a full-blooded son of mine to reign anyway.
“Elora never conceived again despite my best efforts. I suspected she was interfering with her fertility, so I kept shortening her leash. Eventually, she became old enough that menopause and advanced maternal age were a concern. I was at the end of my rope. She could either conceive or free up space for a wife who could. When she failed for the final time, I decided to maximize my time frame and pick a younger bride.”
I quickly do the math, piecing together the disgusting picture. Horrified, I say, “I was eighteen when she died. You picked me because I was… barely legal?”
He sighs. “That's a rather crass way of framing it, but it'snot inaccurate. You were young, from a prominent family. One that I always had wanted to align myself with but hadn't been able to manage. There was another viable candidate, but she wasn’t an only child, so the list of obstacles in my way was longer with her. And twins run in her family. Less than ideal.”
My blood turns to ice. I had started to think that I’d begun acclimating to this man’s casual cruelty. That, like a frog in slowly heated water, my tolerance had increased gradually with each new horror he revealed to the point where I was barely surprised to learn about his fucked-up breeding kink and my apparent involvement in it. But this? If Alec Sinclair wasn't already a dead man walking, then this is the final flourish on his death warrant.
Ender's fate was sealed before he was even born. I've borne mine for so long I barely remember what having a different path looked like. But to find out he was this close to assigning my fate to Len? That he so much asthoughtof her?
Every muscle in my body locks down while I war with myself over whether or not I let the rage take hold and end this here and now. Gripping the bed frame harder in an attempt to keep my hands from clawing his eyes out, I remind myself that this might be my last chance for a confession. “You had Elora killed,” I prompt.
Alec nods. “She knew what was coming.”
“But you couldn't kill Ender because you had used your one strike on Thomas. It's not illegal to not give you a baby. How'd you get past the Council?”
He looks at me, considering, then smiles like I'm a child he's indulging by answering my silly questions. “You've really never framed anyone before?”
She never filed for divorce. Ender was so sure the petition was a fake, but part of me still held out hope it wasn’t. That petition wasn't his mother’s final act of defiance. Elora Sinclair endured this man murdering her husband, abusingher son, and raping her for almost two decades before he disposed of her like trash. All so he could do it all over again to another woman.
No, not a woman. A girl. A girl whose parents were also disposed of for being in Alec’s way.
Through clenched teeth, I hiss, “Every life I have ever taken earned it. Every. One.”
Shrugging, he brushes off my judgment and says, “That's a matter of perspective.”
The door creaks open again, and my eyes fly to it. Ender enters first, wrists shackled together. He's still wearing the same clothes he had on when I last saw him, his face worse for wear. A few new bruises layer over the ones I gave him, darker purple over greenish-yellow. Stubble covers his jaw. Dried blood stains the collar of his shirt. He looks awful and wonderful all at once. Because he's here. He’s alive.
Next walks in a man I've never seen before. Dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he walks with authority behind my husband. It isn't until he turns and I see the keys on his belt that I realize he must be a Fury. He cuts to the side, staying by the door.
The last to enter is a Council member, concealed in loose, black robes and a gold mask. And a very unexpected addition to this party. I have no idea if it's concerning that the Council has taken an interest in the situation or if this is a boon. I doubt the Council is unaware of Alec's actions, but they're normally happy to be more hands-off with their members unless absolutely necessary. Even then, they send someone else to do their dirty work. And with Alec's rank within the Society, he’d have a much longer leash than anyone else for misbehavior. No, the Council is here because they care.
I just don't know about what.
The Councilman sweeps into the room, stopping next to Ender while the Fury closes the door behind them before posting himself in front of it. Alec finally drops my leg andstands, doubling the relief expanding in my chest. My eyes finally fully lock onto my husband's, and that gravity that exists only between us settles in as we drink in the sight of each other. Before either of us can make a move for the other, the Councilman speaks. “Charon. Merrick. Have a seat.”
Alec neatens his clothes before obeying. I wrap the knit cardigan I've been wearing tighter around my torso, tucking my arms around my waist to keep the chill from Alec's touch from taking over as I join them. The Councilman gestures to the three of us, and Alec takes the loveseat, Ender and I the sofa. The Councilman remains standing, closing in to take command over the space. I'm sitting as close to Ender as I can get without climbing into his lap, our hands gripping each other so tightly I'm surprised it doesn't hurt. He bows his head and murmurs, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah. You?”
