Page 22 of Merciless

“I suggest we start over,” Reid says, walking behind me so I’ve no chance of seeing what he’s doing.

The room is almost as bare as my cell. The walls and floor are gray, although splatters are staining the paint out here. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what that is.The only furniture I can see are a lonely chair tucked into the corner and cupboards that I already know hold rows and rows of tools, all designed to torture and maim people.

A shudder rips down my spine.

I wonder how many lives Reid has ended here in his underground torture chamber?

Or I guess the more important question might be… how long do I have until that number increases by one and I’m finally put out of my misery?

He crashes around with something before the most incredible scent fills my nose. My mouth waters and this time, it’s not for the monster who’s tied me to this damn chair. Instead, when he walks back around in front of me, it’s the steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

Lifting it to his lips, he takes a sip. Sighing in contentment as he gets his fix.

Asshole.

“Did you want some?” he asks as if it isn’t abundantly clear that I fucking well do.

I’ve been locked down here for hours with nothing but the faucet and tepid water that I’m not entirely sure won’t kill me to keep me going. Of course I want his fucking coffee.

I hold his hard stare, not willing to ask him nicely like I know he wants.

“No?” he asks, his brows shooting up. “Fine by me.”

When he takes another sip, an involuntary whimper spills from my lips.

“Sure I can’t tempt you?” he offers again.

He’s being too nice. There has to be a catch.

I want to say that he hasn’t poisoned it seeing as he’s happily drinking it.But there is no way he’s just offering it up.

Moving closer, he waves the mug under my mouth.

“Please,” I whimper, hating myself for being so weak.

His face remains impassive, but I swear his eyes smile.

Asshole.

To my shock, he presses the mug to my lips and tips it up.

Greedily, I open my mouth, ready for a rush of rich coffee. But the second the liquid touches my skin, it burns.

I shriek as it covers my lips and fills my mouth.

Reid predicts my next move, though, and jumps out of the way before I can spray him with the nuclear liquid gold.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” I bark when he rests back against the wall and sips his coffee.

Shrugging one shoulder, he states, “I like it hot.”

“I like it hot. That is not hot. It’s fucking nuclear.”

“You should have savored it. You won’t be getting any more if you’re going to waste it like that.”

I sneer at him as he stands there enjoying his coffee, as if we were sitting at a table having a nice breakfast together.

I knew this man was fucked up. That’s not news to anyone in the Creek. But this is even fucking weirder than I was expecting.

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