Page 83 of Merciless

Victor agreed and then did what he could to help Kane succeed.

It was weird. Beyond weird.

No one walks away from Victor Harris and the Hawks and gets away with it. Especially someone as high up as Kane.

But he made it sound possible, and who are we to question the oh mighty Victor Harris?

He doesn’t react to my words. There’s not so much of a flicker of emotion on his face.

I guess he learned that trick from the devil standing just over my shoulder. His presence is oppressive and unavoidable.

"He wanted you to fall for me,” I continue, when no one else says anything. “To come back to this life and forget about college."

One moment Kane is standing, the next he’s collapsed into the only other chair in the room and drops his head into his hands.

Guilt rips through me as I watch him fail to deal with the shit he’s been dealt and the hand I’ve had in it.

Long, painful minutes pass as he fights to accept the words I’ve said.

I didn’t want to hurt him.

But I also didn’t have a choice.

Do what Victor says, or hurt the one person who’s ever cared about me.

I gasp the second he jumps to his feet, but that’s nothing compared to the shriek that rips up my throat when Kane picks up the chair and throws it against the wall with a roar that echoes off the bare, concrete walls around us.

"Why, Alana? Why did you do it?" He rumbles, getting right in my face.Spittle covers my skin as his eyes blaze with fury.

"Because I didn't have a choice," I cry, my own heart pounding against my ribs as we glare at each other.

"Didn't your husband have something to say about it? About you being sent to fuck me?" he sneers, making me rear back.

"I told you, we don’t—"

"Why, Alana? Why doesn't your husband want to fuck you?" His eyes drop to my body and I swallow thickly.

He knows exactly what’s beneath his Panthers jersey I’m still wearing from Saturday night. We’ve been together more than enough times over the past eighteen months for him to be familiar with every single inch of me.

Despite being clothed, I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt more exposed in my entire life.

But I refuse to cower. Instead, I hold my head high and try to look as strong and as in control as I can.

It works because his eyes lift to Reid’s, narrowing in suspicion, only seconds later.

But the silent demon says nothing.

"Because he won't,” I sneer. “It doesn't matter. The less you know, the better."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Kane demands.

"It means that I'm as much as a fucking puppet as you are, Kane. I don't fucking want this," I say, throwing my hands out. A move which I regret the second the fabric of the jersey brushes over my nipples. "I never fucking wanted this," I cry.

"You married in. You didn't have to be a part of this."

"Didn't I?" I scoff.

"What are we missing?" Kane asks before looking up at Reid, as if he’s going to start filling in the blanks.

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