Page 110 of Merciless

I was broken. So incredibly broken beyond repair. I still am. But he saw something within me, something he thought he could save, and he did everything he could to fix me.

It’s just a shame it’ll never be enough.

* * *

Violent tremors rack through my body as I hug my bag to my chest and squeeze my eyes closed.The rumble of the engine vibrates through me as I fight to keep myself together.

I was so close. So fucking close.

But just like everything else in my life, it’s been ruined by a man.

It could be worse, though.

It could have been one of them.

As much as I hate to admit it, Mav isn’t one of them. He’s been nothing but sweet to me in the times we spent together growing up. But I don’t know who he is anymore. He’s a man now, not a boy. He’s a Hawk. And for all I know, he’s forgotten all about that sweet little boy he used to be and turned into a monster just like the rest of them.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Alana. It’s okay.”

I don’t say a word. What’s the point?

I’ve been lied to so many times in my life, that at this point, it’s easier to believe that everything that comes out of a man’s mouth is bullshit.

For all I know, he’s telling me everything I want to hear, while driving me toward the devil.

A terrified sob spills from my lips as I consider what my father is going to do to me after this.

He won’t kill me. But I’ll wish he did.

“I’m going to keep you safe, Doll. I promise you that.”

“W-why?” I stutter.

“Why?” he asks, his voice much stronger, more powerful and determined than mine. “Because you deserve it.”

I shake my head, unable to believe him.

“If you really want to do that, drive me out of town and leave me at a bus stop somewhere. I’ll disappear and you’ll never see me again.”

“I can’t,” he states firmly.

“Why not? No one wants me here.”

“That’s a lie and we both know it. They want you here, and no matter where you go, they will find you.” My blood turns to ice. He’s right. I know he is, but it doesn’t stop me from dreaming.

“Where are you taking me?” I whimper.

“Home.”

A shudder rips through me, my grip on my bag tightening.

“H-home. N-no… y-y-you can’t.”

All the air rushes out of my lungs when the warmth of his large hand rests against mine.

I’m used to a man’s touch repulsing me. But the need to vomit up the bile burning in my stomach never comes, and my skin doesn’t prickle with discomfort.

Instead, I relax. Instantly.

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