Chapter 3 Mercer
Chapter three
Mercer
There’s a nail digging into my spine.
Relishing the scratch against my skin, the pointed pressure that promises pain, I press against the raw wood behind me harder. The nail isn’t long enough, though, to do what I need it to do.
I just wanted to scare him. I told myself that by doing so, I could force him to see reason.
I wanted to save Sawyer from the monster I’d made him out to be in my mind.
I failed.
The only monster here is me.
Noah’s calling.
I hear him.
I wish I could answer.
The lights are painfully familiar. Reds and blues, illuminating everything around us as we freefall toward darkness.
This is his nightmare.
I set the scene and made it all possible.
Noah’s calling, but I can’t respond.
I’m stuck.
I can’t do anything right.
I ache for more pain. I crave physical discomfort. I want nothing more than to find a distraction from the fallout of the damage I just inflicted.
He’s bleeding. She’s crying. In the distance, Noah is calling to me.
I can’t answer. I can’t do anything but subject myself to a purgatory of self-loathing. I want to hurt. I deserve the anguish. It should be me on the ground. It should be me spewing blood as the EMS team works to save my life.
Not even the shrill sound of Sawyer’s desperate scream is enough to make me lift my head or go to her.
I deserve the embittered reaction of the woman I claimed to love.
I deserve every painful, awful, fractured shard of sadness scratching at the edges of my consciousness and threatening to pull me under.