Chapter Sixteen – Mercy
Chapter Sixteen
Beckett
MERCY
Performed by Shawn Mendes
ELEVEN YEARS AGO
HER: Are you okay?
HIM: I can’t stop seeing the blood.
HER: You saved her life.
HIM: I knew better than to take her to the dance, Maise. Even though I told her we were just going as friends. I knew better…
HER: This isn’t on you. You’ve always been honest with her. The rumors about Delilah that Chelsea started just so she could win a stupid homecoming crown are more to blame than you are for being a good friend.
HIM: When the sheriff showed up, at first, he thought I’d hurt her.
HER: WTF? No! No way anyone could ever think you’d do something like that.
HIM: I was covered in her blood, Maise.
HIM: God. It’s all I can see.
HER: Meet me at the treehouse.
HIM: It’s one in the morning.
HER: So what. If you don’t show up, I’ll just come to your room. Your back door is never locked.
HIM: Bring something to read. Something without blood and gore.
HER: The Princess Diaries?
HIM: *** puke emoji *** Romance?
HER: A comedic coming-of-age story with a cat who makes me snort-laugh.
HIM: Fine. This one time, and one time only.
HER: If I were the type of person to bet, I might actually suggest one because I think if you gave romance a chance, you’d be hooked.
PRESENT DAY
As Maisey left the yard, I stalked after her. I was cursing myself for exposing the cracks in my resolve to her almost as much as I was cursing her sister for being the bitch she’d always been. Neither of us was worthy of Maisey.
I was an asshole for even considering having sex with her when it couldn’t be more than that. But the moment Maisey had uttered the words about giving anything to experience passion and sin for one night, I’d yearned to be the one to give it to her.
But she should have more than just one night, or even a handful of nights, of passion. She should have it every night for the rest of her life.
I could give it to her. I could give her forever if I’d only let myself believe in it.
Even as the thought took root, the smoke that was nothing more than a figment of my imagination took hold. I was smart enough to realize I was still trapped in my childhood bedroom with fire burning outside my door. My body had been saved, but my heart had been charred to a crisp.
And I’d never do to Maisey what I’d done to Del.
The guilt from that horrible night still ate at me.
Del had been on edge with all the cruel rumors, and I’d thought giving her one night of fun at the dance would help.
I’d told her I was only taking her to homecoming as a friend, that it couldn’t be more.
I’d even told her I was going to keep an eye on Maisey, who was still reeling from her mother’s death and hadn’t heard what Carter was saying about her behind her back.
I’d been unable to tell Maisey the truth about Carter, afraid it would break her heart, and instead, I’d driven the last splintering wedge into Del’s.
When Delilah had texted me the day after the dance, I’d ignored it at first, frustrated she hadn’t listened, annoyed she’d tried to kiss me when I’d dropped her off at home. I didn’t understand why she couldn’t just be happy with my friendship.
But her next text had shot worry through me. It wasn’t so much an ultimatum as a final goodbye. And still, I’d thought it was a ploy. Not a real cry for help.
By the time I’d convinced myself to check on her, it had almost been too late.
She’d been lying under the bleachers, pale and lifeless, covered in blood I’d had trouble staunching.
All the while I’d held my shirt to her wrists, all the while I’d waited for help to arrive, the truth had repeated through my mind. Delilah had almost bled out because I’d been unable to give her my love. I was as responsible for her scarred wrists as the blade she’d used.
And since that day, that truth had never left my side.
No way in hell would I repeat that history with Maisey.
Regret and self-reproach coated my tongue with bitterness as I followed Maisey up the porch steps.
I was yanked out of my spiral by the sound of my easygoing dog growling inside the house. I hadn’t even processed the frantic edge in his bark before Maisey’s startled gasp pulled my eyes to the orange paint dripping down my front door.
Poor choice. End it now or else.
The note forced the anger that had been simmering in me over Chelsea’s texts, my weak resolve, and the entire situation to boil over.
Maisey had been threatened. Again.
And the asshole had damaged my house to deliver their message.
I whipped around, scanning the empty street much like I had on Monday when the note had been on her car, and just like then, there was no one around. The road was as quiet as ever.
But someone had been there long enough to slop paint all over the fucking place.
There was a slim chance one of the neighbors had seen something, but we were pretty isolated at this end of the cul-de-sac. The Helmers’ place was the closest, and even it was across and down a bit. Plus, who knew if the renters were even there today?
I cursed myself for not installing a doorbell camera, but I’d never felt like I needed one.
Swift Rivers had always felt like a safe community.
I might not let my female friends wander around at night by themselves, especially after drinking, but I hadn’t ever been afraid of being robbed or violated.
Because that was what this was. A violation. Not only of my home but of Maisey’s peace of mind.
“Fuck,” I hissed.
I grabbed the doorknob, and my hand froze. We’d left it unlocked. That shouldn’t have mattered—we were only next door—but it had given whomever this was free rein of the house.
Thrusting open the door, I barely had time to grab my snapping and snarling dog before Maisey bolted into the house, straight for the guest bedrooms.
“Wait!” I shouted, but she didn’t slow down.
I slammed the door behind us, dragged Vader inside, feeling his claws dig into the floor, his wild energy thrumming through me. The air hung heavy, charged with a sharp edge.
The asshole probably wasn’t here—no one would dare face a near-rabid Vader—but the thought that someone could be, someone targeting Maisey, sent ice into my veins. My pulse hammered in my ears, every breath a ragged inhale.
“Stop, damnit!” I commanded, every second stretching too long as I fought to catch up.
She tore down the hall as if she hadn’t heard me, calling for her father with the same fear and desperation in her voice that I felt. “Dad?!”
Lewis poked his head out of the guest bath, brows raised. “Yeah?”
The relief that sped across her face at the sight of him seeped through me.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He raised his burned hand. “Just trying to figure out how to wrap it.”
“Stay here,” I ordered, all but shoving them both into the bathroom and yanking the door shut.
As I crossed the hall, Vader was right on my heels, hackles still raised, and that caused mine to do the same. He stayed right at my side as I entered Maisey’s room. I barely had time to take in the empty boxes she’d flattened and leaned up against a bookshelf before I was storming back out.
My rage grew with each room I cleared.
I hadn’t kept her safe. After the first note, I’d sworn no one would threaten her again, and yet I’d done nothing to stop it.
I’d confronted Delilah, but when she’d denied it, I’d let old guilt push me into backing off.
Since then, I hadn’t lifted another finger to figure it out.
And now, whoever this was had left another note on my goddamn door.
When I was certain no one was in the house, I headed back to the great room. Vader leaned up against me, and I crouched down, giving him a good rub. “Good dog, Vader. Good dog.”
His fur was finally laying flat, and his tail thumped.
“You keep watch like that, and I’ll forever forgive you for bringing up stinky trash from the river.”
He looked toward the crate, where I could hear the kitten scrabbling with its claws to get out.
“Maybe not more cats, Vader. I have to draw the line somewhere.”
He let out a bark that was all relaxed playfulness, just as Maisey emerged from the hall with the switchblade she’d used to cut open boxes in her hand.
Any relief I’d found disappeared. I gritted my teeth in frustration. “I told you to wait with your dad.”
“And I was supposed to let you face whomever this was on your own? Let you get hurt while I sat like some defenseless princess in the bathroom?” She shook her head. “No way, Beckett.”
I hadn’t done a good job of protecting her anyway. I’d let someone close enough to scare her again. To scare us both.
“Did your dad hear anything?”
“He said no,” she replied. She tossed the blade onto a side table, wrapped her arms around herself, and stared at the closed door.
I pulled my phone out, dialing the sheriff’s office.
“I don’t understand, Beckett,” Maisey said quietly, pain in every word. “Why would someone hate us being together so much? What have I done that would make someone try to destroy our relationship before we even have a chance to be together?”
My nails bit into my palms. If this was Delilah, I wouldn’t let unresolved guilt stop me from holding her responsible. I wouldn’t let her destroy Maisey to get my attention. I’d hand her over to the sheriff in a heartbeat.
As I hadn’t called the emergency line, it took a minute for Suzanne at the front desk to pick up. When I explained about the vandalism, she put me on hold then came back to say Deputy Cleaver was on his way.
Which was just fucking great. It was bad enough fury was still raging through me with the speed of a brushfire, but now I’d have to deal with Josh Cleaver flirting with Maisey.
Nothing about my mood was going to get better.
I had to find a way to work these intense feelings out of me before I did damage to something… or someone.
“Stay,” I told Vader when he attempted to follow me out of the house. “Protect.”