Page 194 of Merciless

It’s stupid. Reid never says anything he doesn’t mean. If he says he wants her up here, then he wants her up here.

“O-okay. I’ll go get her then.”

He nods, too focused on his curry to reply.

As I descend the stairs to the basement, a weird mix of excitement, anticipation, and dread swirl about in my stomach.

This could be good. It could be the start of him giving her the freedom she deserves.

Or… or it could be a game.

Reid might hate his father for how manipulative he can be. But the apple hasn’t fallen all that far from the tree. When he wants something, he usually gets it. One way or another. Quite often that will involve someone getting hurt or dying.

Just look at Jonno. Reid clearly had a game plan there. Not that Jonno didn’t deserve to die. He did. He was the scum of the earth. But still.

I slide the one secure lock on Alana’s door back and push the door open.

“Is it your birthday, little dove?” I ask as I step into the room. I find her as I usually do, with her beloved notebook before her, pen in hand.

I’ve no idea what she writes in it. She could be a master songwriter for all I know. Poems maybe, about a brutal captor and his hot as fuck best friend.

I smirk to myself. Oh yeah. She’s totally written about me in there, whatever it is she’s doing.

“No, why?”

“Reid would like to extend an invitation for you to join us for dinner.”

She stares at me blankly.

“Dove?” I say softly when she doesn’t do anything.

Moving closer, I drop to my haunches beside her cot.

“He… he wants me to come up?” she whispers, sounding unsure of herself.

“Yeah. He’s made chicken curry.”

“Why?” she asks, finally turning to look at me as if she’ll read the answers on my face.

“He’s softening, Dove. Just make the most of it,” I say. Unable to tell her that he wants her out of her comfort zone in the hopes of getting more secrets.

“Bullshit,” she snaps, suddenly finding her fire. “Reid Harris doesn’t soften for anyone.”

“Everyone’s got a weak spot,” I counter.

“If you’re trying to tell me that Reid’s weak spot is me, then I know you’re lying. My husband, sure. But not Reid.”

“Whatever you say,” I mutter. Pushing to my feet again, I hold my hand out. “Will you join us?”

It takes her a second but finally, her hand slides into mine, allowing me to pull her to her feet.

“But what will I wear,” she mocks.

I glance down at her body, my teeth grinding when I take in Reid’s tank hanging from her shoulders.

Possessive motherfucker.

“Aside from the fact this isn’t mine,” I say, resting my finger on the neck. Slowly, I drag it down until I’m circling her nipple and making her whimper. “I think you look pretty damn perfect.”

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