Page 31 of The Price of Mercy
Wake up.
Gasping, I open my eyes to find Kane stroking my face, a wistful look in his eyes.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Kane. What—” Sitting up, I blink to bring our surroundings into focus. His arms are cocooning me to his body, making it difficult to move. With a huff, I settle back down and surmise that it doesn’t matter where we are. It’s not like anything has changed.
Three men still want me in their deadly game.
“What are you doing here?”
His thumb brushes over my bottom lip. “What areyoudoing here? Bed not comfortable?”
“More like occupied,” I grumble, glaring into my lap. “Did you know that Zane drugged me at dinner? He came into my room last night to boast about it—” If you could call his drunken confessions that— “And smother me with a pillow!”
Kane’s expression lifts. “He tried tosmotheryou?” A smile makes him even more handsome. “That’s new.”
“Um, hello? He drugged me!”
“And hestilldidn’t kill you.” Kane laughs, light and airy and carefree. “He must really like you.”
“What?” I gape at Kane’s gleefulness. “You’ve got to be joking. He said that he hates me! Hatesus,” I clarify, smacking Kane’s chest. “This isn’t a good thing!”
“It’s a great thing,” Kane counters, still smiling. “There’s a fine line between love and hate, Siren, and Zane is toeing that line. This is perfect.”
I’m not following, but Kane doesn’t elaborate. Scooping me up into his arms, he carries me out of the en-suite and into the master bathroom. “I’ve got a plan,” he says cheerfully, setting me down on the counter. Tearing off his shirt, he tosses it to the floor and turns on the shower. “It’ll be good for us to get some closure on the whole—” His gaze flicks to me. “Reaper thing.”
Flashbacks from my dream make me shiver. The Reaper in my dream wasn’t the one from the party, it was the one standing in front of me. “You haven’t asked him about it?”
Pulling off his sweatpants, Kane is suddenly butt naked. Tanned skin stretches for miles along his torso, but so does a pale scar I’ve never seen before. It cuts from the right side of his ribs to belly button. He doesn’t seem to notice my stare, too preoccupied with the plan forming in his mind as he tests the water temperature. “Not directly,” he mumbles, avoiding my gaze. “But that’s why you should.”
I unwrap the blanket from my shoulders and hop down onto the floor. “I’m not going anywhere near that asshole.”
Before I can leave, Kane grabs my hand and tugs me closer to him. “What else did he say?”
Shit. I forgot how observant Kane is.
“Nothing,” I lie, frowning. “He was drunk.”
“Drunk people are usually honest.”
I blow out a breath. “Not this one.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Kane hums thoughtfully. “Well, if we want Zane to talkwithoutalcohol, we have to make it so that he has no other choice.” Taking both my hands in his, he leads me to the shower door. “You getting in with me, Siren?” A smirk curves on his lips. “I’d love to hear you sing.”
A blush warms my cheeks. I can’t get naked with Kane. He makes it seem so casual! “I don’t sing for the living.”
Humming again, Kane lets go of my hands to step into the shower. “Will you sing at my funeral, then?” The spray of water clings to the glass, obscuring Kane from view.
“Are you dying anytime soon?”
“Maybe,” he murmurs, sounding way too depressed about it. “If I do, promise that you’ll sing for me, Siren. That you’ll miss me.”
What a gloomy request. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Zane drugged me too. I’m washing it off. You should join me.”
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest. I can’t deny that a hot shower sounds heavenly. But I’m not doing this because of Kane. I’m doing this for me. He just happens to be here. Stripping off my clothes, I stand in front of the steamed mirror. I can’t see my reflection, but… maybe it’s better this way.
