Page 1 of The Price of Mercy
Chapter 1
Mercy
Don’t goeasy on me.
Those simple words latch onto my bones, pulling me down, down, down, until I’m lying on the floor and staring into Sam’s summer eyes—shimmering like a dark green lake bathed in sunlight, inviting me to dive into their warm waters. If Sam owned such a lake, he might ask it to swallow me whole, drag me down to the darkest depths, and shroud me from the rest of the world. Safe. Hidden.His.
I can see the desire swirling in his eyes, the regret and guilt glinting off the surface not strong enough to hide it. He thinks that what happened tonight—the assault, the murder, the sudden distance between us—is his fault. But we can’t control what other people do or say, so I don’t blame him. Not like Kane does. Not like Sam blames himself.
In the end, despite any alleged wrongdoings or things Sam may have overlooked about tonight, I already forgive him. What I want more than anything is for him to forgive himself. Judging by how hard he’s holding his breath, I have to assume that self-forgiveness is a long time coming. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never forgives himself. He stares at me like I can give him the world—but I can’t give him peace of mind. That has to comefrom within. So if I have to wait to voice my forgiveness until he can accept his own, then so be it. I’ll wait as long as it takes. For his sake.
A breath falls past my lips, and I tear my gaze away from Sam. I need to get up. We need to keep moving. The clock is ticking, and the longer we sit here, the more we’re tempting fate to fuck us over. It’s only a matter of time before the neighbors show up—or the police. Taking another tiny breath, I peel myself off the cold floor and fight the numbing tingle in my limbs.
Kane kneels, helping me sit up without asking for permission, his gaze soft as it sweeps across my face. “Take all the time you need,” he murmurs, brushing his hand over my hair and kissing my forehead. “We aren’t in a rush.”
The dead body bleeding out on the hardwood suggests otherwise.
I’ve seen death before—or I thought I had. But yellowed bodies and embalmed corpses don’t bleed. They aren’t still warm to the touch. They weren’t alive mere moments ago, gripping your ankle so tightly that it bruises.
I stare at an angry red mark wrapped around my ankle, its four distinct lines proof of how tight of a grip the bastard had on me. Kane’s gaze follows mine, and he clenches his jaw without saying anything. Maybe it’s better if we don’t talk about what happened—if we let it fade away into obscurity, where it can’t hurt us…or haunt me.
But the longer we stay here, the more the memory will imprint. The rock of the table, the raucous noise from the crowd, the heat of strangers’ hands on my body… Bile rises to the back of my throat, and I force myself to swallow.
I need to leave.
I need to leaveimmediately.
“We can’t stay here.” There’s blood on Kane’s cheek, and I attempt to wipe it off. It sticks to his skin, refusing to come clean,much like the stains on his soul that I can’t see. He killed a man in cold blood and hasn’t shown an ounce of remorse. Is that who he is? Have I been deluding myself into thinking that there’s more to the man than sex and violence?
The slow curve of Kane’s lips makes my foolish heart flutter. He envelops my hand in his and turns his head to kiss my fingers, his icy gaze melting at the slightest touch between us. “Taking care of me, Siren?” A chuckle rumbles through his chest, and butterflies erupt in mine. We aren’t usually this close to each other without tension brewing between us, but now, in this cursed room, things feel… different. Softer. Reminiscent of the way he texts me, like there’s more to the man than what’s on the surface.
That’s what I choose to hold onto—the hope that Kane is more than what the world thinks; that his persona as The Reaper is just that: nothing more than a mask hiding the real man underneath.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I answer honestly, searching his eyes for the truth. Tonight showed me something important about who he is and what he values. If only I could just… put the pieces together. Figuring him out is like holding a puzzle box without the knowledge to unlock it. I have to play with the pieces, twisting them this way or bending them that way until the pattern falls into place. I cup his stubbled cheek, and his eyes glitter like diamonds. “I’m still trying to figure you out.”
His smile widens as he presses the tip of his finger to the bow of my lips. “Want a hint?”
My heartbeat drums louder in my ears. A hint? What exactly is he offering? “Does it come with strings?”
“Everything comes with strings, Siren.” He plays with a loose strand of my hair as he speaks. “You have to decide if those strings are worth the risk… or the reward.”
We stare at each other for a moment longer as his words sink in. “I’d like a reward,” I murmur, grabbing his hand to keep it from wandering any further. “Please.”
“A hint,” Kane clarifies, squeezing my hand. Time stands still as he eliminates what little distance remains between us and brushes his lips across my cheek. “I enjoyed saving you tonight, Mercy. The blood on your skin is…” He takes a shuddering breath as his eyes skate down my body. “Turning me on.” Tugging my hand, he holds it against his growing erection and puffs out a breath as he cups my fingers around him. “But I like being needed more than I like being feared, and tonight, you needed me.” His dick twitches beneath my palm. “That’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve done for me yet, Siren, and I have Sam to thank for it. So…” Meeting my eyes, he draws a shallow breath. “Keep needing me, Mercy.”
I’m stunned into silence as we hold each other’s gaze. I don’t know what I expected him to say, but that… wasn’t it. “You’re twisted,” I murmur, pulling my hand free from his grasp. A heated shiver rolls down my spine. Everything about what he said is fucked up, and yet… I’m grateful for the honesty.
He shrugs. “You asked.”
Sam’s voice cuts across the room. “If you’re done with… whatever that was,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead, “pleasemove. The cops will be here soon, and I don’t want you here—” His gaze pierces my heart—“when they do.”
Right. The cops.The body.Icy panic tears through my veins. How the hell are we going to talk our way out of this one? I don’t know how I’ll handle an interrogation about my best friend slash boyfriend and our murder-happy acquaintance. I have trouble wrapping my brain around my relationships with either of them, and trying to explain what we are to each other will tie more knots instead of unraveling them.
“Better get moving,” Kane says, taking a step back. “Or you’ll have to bail me out of jail next.” Grinning at me, he winks like the idea of him sitting behind bars is funny.
I’m pretty sure that Zane would implode if Kane were arrested. Speaking of—“Where’s Zane?”
A switch flips, and Kane’s easy demeanor transforms. Tension ripples through his muscled frame as he clenches his jaw. A vein in his neck pulses angrily. “Home,” he grunts, frowning. “He’s at home.”
