Page 161 of Merciless

“What are you suggesting here? That you want to be friends or some shit?”

He takes a long drink of coffee, his eyes locked on mine.

“Just concerned about a brother’s well-being. Is that so bad? Did you want me to patch that up for you, seeing as you’re missing your nurse?”

39

ALANA

Dear Diary,

It wasn’t long ago that I refused to think about tomorrow or dare dream about having any kind of future.

The reality was that one day, the men were going to kill me. They’d choke me too hard or make me do something that my body just wouldn’t cope with.

It happened once. I literally thought I was dying with the amount of blood I lost.

I was in agony long before they left me curled up in the corner sobbing. I didn’t know what they did, still don’t to this day, but it was bad. Really fucking bad.

I was barely conscious when Dad returned to the house and found me. He didn’t care that I was in pain, his biggest concern was the stain I was going to leave on the floor. Which was a fucking joke because we basically lived in squalor. I did what I could to keep the place clean and tidy but the place was already too far gone when I started. I was fighting a losing battle.

I remember begging him for help, for a doctor, for him to take me to the hospital. Anything. But he refused. Told me to go to bed and stop acting like a baby.

I did. What else was I supposed to do? Try and escape and get help. I would be dead if I did that.

The only saving grace was that Kristie and I didn’t share a room. The thought of her seeing me in that state was horrifying.

All night I laid there, curled up in a ball, praying that I’d die from the blood loss.

My bed was soaked through.

At some point, I thankfully passed out. And the next time I came to, I had a cannula in the back of my hand, but was still alone in my bloodstained bed, although thankfully in less pain. Those were the lowest days of my life. I had no idea what happened, what had been done to me. Dad appeared every now and then with food, water, and painkillers, but only when he could be bothered. All I could think was,why didn’t you just let me die?But I knew the answer. And I was proven right once I’d recovered. It was business as usual, as if they didn’t almost kill me.

Thankfully, there was never a repeat of that experience, but its side effects will live with me forever.

I didn’t find out the dire consequences of that horrific experience until I was with Mav and he had a decent doctor check me over. Then the true extent of what my body went through that night and in the following days was revealed.

Being with Mav gave me hope. It allowed me to think that I could have a future. That my life might be more than a slave to my father and his sick and twisted friends.

Even when I was locked up in Mav’s house, I’d never felt so free. It was incredible.

Which is why I know I should hate it down here. I’m locked in a single room with only a few basic necessities that JD supplied me with on his final visit last night.

I’d hoped he might spend the night with me. It was naïve and foolish of me to think things had really changed just because we had sex, he let me have a shower and some decent food.

But I couldn't help myself.

I’d felt a connection with him the first time he visited me, and every time since, it’s only grown. Our chemistry crackles like wildfire when we’re close. Or at least I think it does. Maybe it’s all one-sided and he’s just playing a very good game. After all, they seem to think I’m playing one too so why not, right?

But he said he believed me. That he’d do anything to prove it to Reid and get me out of here.

But what would my life outside of here even look like now? I’ve no doubt that Mav will pull me into his arms and hold me together like he’s always done.

I could go back home with him and continue with our lives as if this never happened.

But do I want that?

I know it’s stupid, but just thinking about walking away from JD, from all of this, feels wrong.

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