23. Mercy

Mercy

I don’t get invited to college parties. To be invited, you have to have friends who are either going or hosting, and that’s never applied to me. Technically, Sam didn’t even invite me. I invited myself. But I need to get out of the house after a week of stagnation.

A party will ensure that we’re not alone.

Sighing, I braid my hair over my shoulder and fiddle with the ribbon at the end, wondering if it looks silly or too girlish.

It’s a bright crimson, tied into a bow, which I quickly undo.

Then I rebrand my hair and weave the ribbon in the strands, tying it into a knot at the end.

That could work. I don’t feel nearly as girly without the bow.

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

KANE

You’re not in pajamas

Where are you going

Need a ride?

Ever since the revelation that Kane and Zane put cameras in my bedroom, I’ve been changing my clothes in the bathroom and trying not to be nude at all.

The thought that they saw me and Sam—I blush, quivering at the memory of the heat.

I’ve made out with Sam before, but I never knew how hot two bodies could get when they’re coiled around each other like that.

My heartbeat trips as heat pools between my thighs.

I’ve had to ignore that , too, with the boys watching me. Neither of them would object to a little show, I’m sure, but I can’t bring myself to do it, knowing that it’ll be lackluster when compared to the sparks of someone else touching me.

I type back a quick no and run my hands down the front of my dress. It’s a high-collar neckline, so I forego a necklace for smokey quartz earrings and trade my combat boots for strappy flats my sister gave me for my birthday. As I’m buckling the first strap around my ankle, my phone goes off again.

KANE

You look good, Siren

Tell me that you’re coming to see me

It’ll make my day

I shake my head with a smile. “I’m not coming to see you,” I say aloud. “I wouldn’t even know where to find you.”

KANE

That’s an easy fix

Ask me where I am

I play with the ruffles of my skirt, admiring the soft champagne color.

Lace butterflies are sewn into the fabric, matching the black button-up bodice.

This dress was also a gift, but from my sister’s best friend Celia.

She works in fashion. She might have even designed this.

I stand up off of my bed and take a quick picture to send to her, including a thank you.

KANE

Send that to me

Rolling my eyes, I slip my student ID into my pocket and dab perfume on my wrists. “You’re seeing the outfit now. Isn’t that enough?”

KANE

No

I need to save it

I’m changing my wallpaper

To a pretty girl

If she’d send me a picture

Sam’s truck rolls down the driveway, and I watch him hop down from the cab.

Our eyes meet through the window, and he smiles warmly, looking as handsome as ever.

Normally, his green eyes sparkle in the summer, but in the fall they pop with color.

Even from this distance, I can make out their exact shade of emerald.

“See you later, Kane,” I call out, heading for the door. “Don’t wait up.” Ignoring the rest of the incoming messages, I carefully descend the stairs and say goodbye to the house, knowing that my grandmother is here somewhere. “I’ll be back soon.”

The crisp fall air refreshes my senses as I step onto the front porch. The wood panels creak more than usual, a testament to how badly they need replaced, but I barely hear it over the sound of my hammering heart.

Sam meets me at the stairs and takes my hand without asking, leading me to his truck. He gently squeezes my fingers. “You look great, Mercy.”

I run my hand down the length of my braid. “Thanks. It’s new.”

The skirt isn’t exactly short, easily brushing the tips of my knees, but he stares at the curve of my calves anyway, practically mesmerized. After a hard swallow, he turns his gaze away. “Let’s get going.”

“Wait.” I pull him to a stop before he can get too far away. I’ve rehearsed what I’ve wanted to say in my head, not wanting Kane or Zane to tease me for it, but now that Sam is standing in front of me, the words die in my mouth. I part my lips, and no sound comes out.

I’ve known this man for years. We’ve had countless sleepovers and one-on-one bonfires and movie nights and strolls through the endless rows of graves. He’s held me at night when I can’t sleep, and I’ve talked him out of bad dreams. I know Sam.

But stepping into a new light with him almost feels like letting something go, and I’m not sure how to handle that.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, tugging on the end of my braid.

He slides his fingers across the braid, a pensive crease between his brows.

“If you need forgiveness, then you have it. For today. For tomorrow. For anything. You don’t have to ask, because no matter what, I’ll always give it to you.

” Our eyes meet, and warmth blossoms in my chest. “I guess you could say that I’m…

” He searches for the right words. “I’m so far gone.

” Chuckling, he looks away, the pink tint to his cheeks spreading to the tips of his ears.

“I’m lost without you, Mercy. This past week has been shit.

So whatever I have to do to make sure that never happens again, I’ll do it.

We don’t have to be anything you don’t want us to be.

I’m sorry that I pushed you and made you uncomfortable.

I don’t ever want you to do something unless your heart is one hundred percent in it. ”

A flicker of guilt crosses his features before he schools his expression. “I’m sorry, Mercy. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Well, shit.

“I’m supposed to be the one apologizing.

” I clasp my hands together and sway in place.

“I, uhh, I wanted to…” That’s not quite right.

“When we were…” Taking a breath, I close my eyes and start again.

“I’m so tired of feeling like I’m going to make a mistake.

I don’t want to ruin what we have, but I do like you, Sam.

And when you said that you loved me, I thought, ‘this is it. This is what I’m supposed to do.

’ But then we were kissing and you were really into it— I was really into it?—”

Sam places his hands on my shoulders. “Mercy, it’s okay, you don’t have to?—”

“I love you.” My hands shake. “I do. I love you, Sam.” I open my eyes to find him frozen in place, like I’ve shocked him to the core.

“And I want to be more than friends.” Biting my lip, I power through the next part.

“But I also… I think I like Kane.” Wincing, I wait for Sam to blow up.

Storm off. Rage and rant and curse Kane to hell.

“I know I shouldn’t,” I continue, desperate to fill the silence.

“And I don’t understand it. He’s—he’s—” There are a lot of ways to describe Kane, but his confidence is infectious.

It’s what draws me to him. While I’ve been distant with Sam this past week, I’ve been texting Kane.

He’s rough on the surface but soft on the inside, surprisingly romantic and in touch with his emotions.

Even Zane, who I’m pretty sure hates my guts half the time, has been nice to me.

“You like Kane.” Sam’s expression flatlines, but his eyes smolder with a hatred unlike any I’ve ever seen. “You love me, but you like him.” He lets go of me to run a hand through his hair and look off into the distance. “You like him. Mercy, he’s trying to kill you.”

“I know.”

“He’s a murderer.”

Wincing, I repeat myself. “I know.”

“He’s a man whore. ” Clenching his jaw, Sam growls, the sound rumbling between us. “Mercy, he’s slept with hundreds of people. He fucking told me so!”

“And I’ve slept with no one, unless we suddenly count the tip.” I glare at Sam, flicking my gaze to his crotch. “So, what? Does a person’s experience level make them any less of a person? Maybe I’ll like sex so much that I sleep with a hundred people! Would you hate me then?”

Sam’s face falls. “Of course not. I’ll never hate you.”

“Then why does it matter who anyone’s slept with? You’ll judge Kane but you won’t judge me?”

“Yes.” The fire in Sam’s eyes burns hotter.

“I don’t care what you’ve done, Mercy, or who you screw.

I will always forgive you. I will always be here for you.

” He pinches my chin and tilts my head back.

“So if you want to fuck Reaper like one of his whores, fine. Go bounce on his dick. But when he’s done filling you up?—”

I flinch, but Sam doesn’t let go. He leans closer, eyes wild and body quivering.

“Stretching you out?—”

“Stop, Sam?—”

He scoffs. “That’s the thing, Mercy. You can tell me to stop, and I will.

But Reaper? It’ll turn him on to hear you beg.

You’ll be crying from how hard he’s pounding your pussy, and he won’t stop until he’s wrung you out and left you to dry.

Is that what you want?” Pressing the pad of his thumb against my lips, he frowns.

“Think long and hard about it, because I may have the restraint to pull out, but he won’t. ”

“You’re trying to scare me.” Grabbing his wrist, I tear his hand off my face.

“But it won’t work.” Cupping Sam’s cheek, I pray that he hears me when I say this.

“I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew how you would react.

I kept my distance this week because I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell you at all.

But I missed you.” I brush my thumb across his cheekbone, and his eyes flutter closed. “I missed my best friend.”

Taking a deep breath, Sam wrestles with himself. “I missed you, too.” He opens his eyes, unable to clear the agony hiding in their depths. “But I don’t agree with this, Mercy.”

“I know.” Lifting onto my tiptoes, I kiss his jawline. “But I’m not asking for your permission. Or your blessing.” This is the hardest part, and I don’t know if he’ll say yes, but?—

“I want you to be there.”

Leaves cascade all around us as a gust of wind knocks them loose. The entire world shifts in the span of a second as Sam falls to his knees and clutches the front of my dress.

“ Please ,” he whispers, burying his face in my chest. “I’ll do anything for you, Mercy, but—” His voice cracks.

“I don’t—I can’t—” He takes a shuddering breath.

“I don’t want to watch him break you. I can’t .

” Lifting his eyes, they blaze with so much fury that it knocks the air from my lungs.

“I’ll kill him. I’ll kill the fucking bastard while he’s still inside you. ”

I run my hand through Sam’s hair, trying to soothe him. “He won’t hurt me.” The lie feels vile, but I don’t know what else to do. I need Sam there in case Kane does go too far… or if Zane keeps his word.

If I sleep with Kane, it might be the last thing I ever do.

“I need you there,” I insist, sliding to my knees with Sam.

I cup his face in my hands and fight the urge to say nevermind —to whisk him away from the pain I’m causing and let him keep me for himself.

I know that would make him happy. But it’s not what will make me happy.

“I trust you to keep me safe, no matter what happens.”

Sam clenches and unclenches his jaw, taking his time to process his response.

“Only if you have sex with me first.” The agony brewing in his eyes deepens.

“That’s my condition. I’ll watch you with Reaper—” His face twists as he says Kane’s nickname.

“And make sure that he doesn’t go overboard.

But your first time—” He wraps my braid around his fist and tugs, a whine catching in his throat as our lips brush. “Your first time is mine. ”

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