Page 9 of Liar's Heart
Well. That took no time at all to turn ugly. Ender’s hand lands on my knee, and he squeezes, a reassuring gesture against his father’s onslaught, but I’m one step ahead of him. Covering his hand with mine, I squeeze like I’m trying to comfort him, too, before interceding. “I’m sure we can make Saturday work, especially for something so important. Besides,” I look between father and son and force as much sincerity as I can into my voice. “I want to help. To be a part of this family. Charming guests while playing hostess for a few hours isn’t too much to ask.”
Ender is vibrating under my hand but has the sense to stay quiet. Alec’s eyes lose the hard edge to them, content in his victory. He points a finger at me, turns to Ender, and says, “See, she gets it. You could learn a thing or two from her, son. You should’ve married her years ago.”
My husband’s face goes ashen, his grip on my knee starting to border on painful. “Noted. Is that everything you needed?”
Alec gives us both a dismissive wave. “That’s all. Saturday. Six thirty p.m. Black tie.” He turns to me, inclining his head conspiratorially. “Make sure he’s here and behaves himself, dear.”
My smile is wide, with all my teeth on display. “Will do.”
My husband stands and offers me his hand. I take it and am promptly tugged up onto my feet. “On that note…” Ender says by way of goodbye.
Hand still in his, he guides me back through the house and to the car, only letting go to shut my door for me. Herounds the car, climbs into his seat behind the wheel, and takes off. The two of us ride in silence for several minutes, like if we talk about what just happened within a certain radius of the house, Alec will still be able to hear us. Ender is still vibrating, albeit at a lower frequency, when he breaks the silence about ten minutes in. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
I angle myself in my seat so I can watch him, comfortable in the knowledge he can’t watch me back while he’s driving. “Do what?” I ask.
He lets out a sigh. “Put yourself between my father and me. Defend me.”
Oh. I guess I did. “I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have?—”
A firm shake of his head cuts me off. “I’m not upset that you did. It’s just…” Another sigh, then a pause before he says cautiously, “I know you’re aware that Alec isn’t a good man.” I nod, and he continues. “It’s more than just being Charon. The fact that he’s built his empire on death is only a part of it. A big part, sure, but not the full picture. He’s a narcissist if ever there was one. He doesn’t see a person when he looks at you, Merrick. Only what you can do for him as an extension of himself.”
I hum in agreement. “Like attend a second wedding because the first one wasn’t centered around him?”
Ender huffs a laugh. “Exactly. One he didn’t bother to tell the bride and groom to show up for until a few days before, no less. It’s about seeing how far he can push you. See if he can get you to give in to him, trick you into doing something you don’t want to do. All of it feeds into his sense of power. There is no point of compromise with him. He will take and take until there’s nothing left of you, and then he’ll go find a new target without giving you a second thought.”
“Sounds like a great dad, huh?”
His knuckles turn white as his hands flex around thesteering wheel. “You have no idea. My childhood was… a lot.”
Sympathy bubbles up in me out of nowhere, the pained look on his face too much to act like I’m unaffected. Ender’s no innocent now, but that wasn’t always true, and a child wouldn’t have stood a chance against a man like Alec. “Was your mom…” I let the question sit in the air between us, unsure of what direction to go in with it.
“Nothing like my father,” Ender supplies in answer.
I nod, then smile a little. “What plans did we have Saturday?”
A smirk ghosts his lips. “I didn't say we had plans. I said we're unavailable.”
That coaxes my smile to grow. “Touché.”
We let the conversation die for the rest of the drive home, though the silence is far more comfortable. After we've pulled into the garage and Ender's turned the car off, he faces me, one last moment alone before we part ways again for a few more hours. “I need you to be careful around Alec,” he says, the plea shining in his eyes. “He will use anything he can against you to get what he wants. He has no limit to what's too far. If he wants it, he'll take it. Even if the price outweighs the gain. That's not the point to him. Anything you say to him, any information you give him, he will use against you in some way. I don't…” He trails off, looking up for a breath before returning his gaze to mine. “I don't want him to hurt you too. You don't deserve that.”
I nod and let him lead the way back into the house, the words on a loop in my head.
Too late. It's too fucking late.
Over,under, back, down, around, through, straighten. I fucking hate wearing a tie. Suits have never bothered me, especially after spending most of my adult life in one, but ties? Fuck ties. And fuck Alec for forcing me into one for this bullshit party when I didn’t even wear one to my own fucking wedding.
My anger over this dumb party leveled off to irritation over the last five days as I resigned myself to the situation. It’s not like I can’t work this to my advantage. I just can’t stand the idea of that man having any control over Merrick or of him manipulating her. No doubt that’s half the reason for tonight’s party—to test out how easily he can get her to dance to his tune, where to push her to see results.
I’m going to have to kill him, and soon. Something I should’ve taken care of years ago. Definitely before I called Hera and asked her to make good on old oaths. But I didn’t. And now we both have to suffer the consequences. One of which is this goddamn bow tie.
Merrick is still in the bathroom getting ready while I finish dressing in the bedroom. The little domestic dance partners do around each other when they're trying to get ready in ashared space is still unpracticed and clumsy between us. Normally, a part of me thrills each time I find myself in her way, but since we have a time limit and she has more to do than throw on a tux, I decided to play nice and offer her full rein of the bathroom.
The longer she’s in there, the more my curiosity grows, and I regret saying I wouldn’t disturb her. Maybe by the next event, we’ll be to the point where I can lean against the counter and chat while she does her makeup or help her with a clasp on a bracelet she can’t do herself. I want my wife’s love, but I want her ease too. Those casual moments that add up to a life shared. Things I don't know if she observed in her parents’ marriage. I sure as shit never saw them in mine.
I'm trying to get my first cuff link on when the bathroom door finally opens, drawing my attention to the woman I’ve been waiting for. I’ve never seen Merrick look anything short of gorgeous, not when she’s flushed and sweaty from exertion at the gym or barefaced in those skimpy nightgowns she sleeps in. The first full view of her face when I removed her mask at the altar will forever be burned into my memory. But this? This is bewitchment.
Thin straps hold up silky black fabric so soft it looks like liquid cascading down my wife’s body, the visual strengthened by the floor-length skirt flaring from those hips, parting and shimmering with each step to reveal the entire length of one leg up to her hip. Soft folds of fabric dip low at the neckline, low enough that I can see the bottom curve of her breasts and the full, creamy expanse of her sternum. Based on how high that slit goes up, there is no way she’s wearing panties. If I had any suspicion that she’s wearing a bra, it's gone when she gets close enough for me to see that the back of the dress scoops low to the curve of her ass, all that smooth, delicious skin only disrupted by thin straps corseting the back.
