Page 167 of Merciless

“FUCK,” I bellow, my deep voice echoing around my silent home.

The end might be in sight, but something tells me that it isn’t going to be pretty. This is all about to blow up in our faces and we need to be ready.

* * *

“You’ve sure made a lot for two people,” JD points out almost an hour later after he’s loaded his plate with my homemade chilli.

I shrug, refusing to take the bait. “You don’t need to eat the leftovers tomorrow if you don’t want.”

“I ain’t refusing food. I’m just pointing out a fact.” He eyes me suspiciously over the table.

“Whatever,” I mutter, making him smirk and his eyes twinkle with mirth.

“You care.”

“I don’t fucking care. I just want all this bullshit over with.”

“You’re a liar too.”

I purse my lips and push my fork into my food.

“Maybe you should take this down there yourself after we’ve finished.”

I want to. Fuck me, do I want to. But as much as I hate to admit, even to myself. I’m scared. Terrified of the darkness and the truth she’s hiding.

For the first time since I locked her up down there, I’m starting to understand what JD has seen. She’s not hiding a wicked scheme that will end in my demise. What she’s holding back is much, much worse than that.

Something tells me that having to talk will break her even more than she already is. And for the first time in my life, I care. I care about how she’ll cope with diving fully back into the past as she lays all the horrors on the table for us to absorb.

“I’ve got to go out. I’ve got another meeting, and then I’m heading to Maddison to check in on the guys. You’re in charge.”

His grin widens. “Oh hell, yes. It’s party time, baby.”

“Just… do not let her out of the fucking basement. No matter how good she sucks your cock.”

He shovels a forkful of chilli into his mouth before looking up at me.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he teases.

41

ALANA

“Oh my God, what is that smell?” I say in a rush when the door opens and the waft of something mouthwatering hits my nose.

My stomach instantly growls as JD emerges carrying a tray full of goodies.

“Is that wine? Holy shit, I think I love you.”

His eyes lock with mine as my words register in my brain.

Shit.

“Careful, little dove. I’m not sure your husband would like that.”

Guilt twists up my stomach.

I think we’ve already done plenty that my husband wouldn’t like.

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