Page 22 of The Price of Mercy
I caught him looking at Zane that way in the Morningstar’s driveway before Mercy and I walked over. I had to do a double-take because I’d never seen him like that before.Soft.But here he is again, staring at Mercy like she’s already his to admire. I swallow the lump in my throat and ask again. “What would it take, Kane? For you not to kill someone.” Bargaining with a murderer feels stupid, but even if it doesn’t work, at least I can say that I tried.
I tried not to kill him, I’ll tell Mercy, begging, pleading, praying that she’ll forgive me. I couldn’t keep my promise to let him touch her. I couldn’t stomach the thought of him pinning her to the mattress and burrowing inside her body. I couldn’twatch him defile her, no matter how much she claims that she wants it.
Kane doesn’t look at me, but he also doesn’t answer. Lifting his drink, he downs the rest and slams the glass upside down on the bar. “Let’s eat.” He slips out from behind the counter and scoops Mercy into his arms, earning a giggle that claws inside my chest. I watch them leave the room before grabbing the knife from Mercy’s forgotten boot and tucking it into my pocket.
This might be a cutesy vacation for the two of them, but for me, it’s a battleground. Zane already made the first move when he set up that bullshit at the party. Kane, for whatever good it didn’t do, allegedly made his when he talked to Zane. Now it’s my turn.
I need some fucking answers.
Chapter 10
Mercy
Dinner is tense.The scrape of silverware on our plates might as well be gunfire for how often Zane tenses, makingmejumpy. I’m not thrilled about being in the same room as him, but I was serious when I invited Sam to this little retreat. I need to look Zane in the eye and see how much he hates me. At least, that’s what I told Sam.
In truth, I need to understand how he feels about me and if there’s anything beyond the hatred, because we can’t continue like this. We’re hurting each other. All four of us. I don’t think it’s intentional, but sometimes our best intentions get muddied up in our feelings. With four people involved, it’s no wonder that things are getting messy.
Part of me feels like I need to apologize, but I’m not sure where to start. Sam is the easiest to verbally apologize to, but it’s the hardest confession to admit out loud. I know I haven’t been kind to him, but it’s not like he’s been upset about it.
That still doesn’t make it right.
I swallow another sip of water while the ice in my cocktail melts, diluting the flavor and hopefully, my desire to drink it. I had enough wine last night. I shouldn’t overdo it just because I’m nervous. The men, however, don’t seem to have a problemdrinking to drown their feelings. All three of them have new glasses of amber liquid in front of them, the bottle left uncapped on the table within arm’s reach.
In an attempt to cut the tension, I ask Zane about the pasta he prepared. “How did you make the sauce? Is it alfredo?”
He stabs a bowtie noodle with his fork. “I didn’t.” Glaring at his bite before putting it into his mouth, he chews slowly. “It was frozen.”
“One of those one pot things,” Kane clarifies as the only unbothered person in the room. “We didn’t have time to go shopping on the way here.”
“We normally order takeout.”
Sam stares at his untouched plate before checking mine. “Trade with me,” he murmurs, not waiting for my response before switching our plates and stealing my fork. Poking at his pasta, he nibbles on a bowtie before relaxing enough to hand me my fork back and let me eat. I eagerly down two forkfuls, my stomach growling loudly. I don’t care if it’s frozen pasta. I’m starving.
“It’s not like I’m going to poison her, Sam,” Zane grumbles from across the table, pulling a face as I inhale my food. “Or you.”
“Forgive me if I have my doubts.” Sam eats much more slowly than me, going so far as to give me his plate once I finish mine in record time. “I half expected to find a razor blade embedded in the chicken.”
Zane’s smile is cold. “There’s still time.”
Kane rolls his eyes and throws a bite-size dinner roll at Zane’s head. “Will you stop being such a dick?” The roll bounces off of Zane’s skull and hits the table. “All of you suck right now. Except you, Siren; you’re perfect.” It’s my turn to roll my eyes, but that does nothing to dampen the sparkle in Kane’s eyes. “In fact—” He holds his drink in the air like he’s about to make atoast. “I have an announcement.” Silence fills the room as he takes his time making eye contact with each of us. Then he grins. “We need to get laid.”
Sam chokes on his drink.
“I’m serious. There’s so much goddamn tension in here?—”
“Because we hate each other!”
“All the more reason to fuck. Everything feels better after sex.” Kane winks at me. “Trust me.”
My face flames while Sam ramps up his argument.
“We didn’t come here to have an orgy.”
“Youmight not have, but I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks. Even Zane’s on board.” Kane nudges his best friend. “Isn’t that right, Zane?”
The sour look on Zane’s face tells a different story. “I said that I’d think about it, not that I’d discuss it over dinner.”
I stare at the way Kane’s hand rests intimately on the back of Zane’s neck. Something’s different between them. Opening my mouth, I almost ask about it but stop myself as a more pressing question shoves its way to the forefront of my mind. Isn’t an orgy… group sex? Biting my lip, I try to imagine what that would be like and inevitably picture myself lying on my back as three men hover over me. But the fantasy ends before it can begin; I don’t know what comes next. My brain short-circuits as it overheats.
