Chapter 29
Mercy
“Thank you for taking care of the house today. Did you find my dad’s appointment book?
” I slip my hand into Kane’s as he says goodnight on my front porch.
It would be like a scene from a romance movie if he wasn’t walking across the lot to sleep in the old church afterwards.
I’m pretty sure no one in a movie’s ever done that before.
They go home to giggle in bed about their crush, not watch them through the window across the street.
“I found a lot of things,” Kane muses, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. “Like your family photo album. Never knew black was a staple color for children.”
“Your family didn’t wear matching ensembles?”
“My family wasn’t a family at all, Mercy.” His smile falls for a split second before it grows twice in size. “Zane became the only family that mattered, and now I can confidently say that I have your family, too.” He chuckles. “Your dad likes me.”
First Zane says it, and now Kane?
“Trying to take my family from me?”
“Trying to steal your heart, Siren.” He grins into the curve of my neck. “Is it working?”
I bite my lip as butterflies flutter around my heart. “Maybe,” I murmur, deciding to play along.
“Maybe?” He hums in my ear. “I’m gonna have to try harder, then.
” His hands wind around my waist as he kisses my lips, beginning our goodnight ritual the same way he always does: by taking my breath away one delicate kiss at a time.
What used to be a heated battle of wills has cooled with the winter, and Kane kisses me like he’s making a thousand wishes on every single sparkling star in the sky.
Something about the way he holds me feels more intimate than anything else we’ve done in the past.
I can’t help but wonder if he feels it too.
“I could stay here forever,” he whispers, enjoying himself far too much for a man who’s in love with someone else.
My heart flutters. I don’t think I’m supposed to feel this way about a murderer, let alone two murderers.
Unless, of course, I’ve joined the club after killing that guy with the carving knife.
I try not to think about it, but maybe that’s what’s changed.
There’s a black spot on my soul, and like attracts like.
I’ve become less of the woman I was and more like the woman they want me to be.
A killer, just like them.
Yet in moments like these, I find it hard to believe that any of us have blood on our hands.
Forcing a smile, I push Kane away and take a step back. “Zane would kill you. He’d kill me.”
Something warm glows in the depths of Kane’s eyes. “A double-homicide sounds pretty romantic.”
“It does not!” Laughing, I clutch the blanket draped around my shoulders. “Aren’t you freezing?”
He dusts fresh snow from his blonde hair. “Nah. You warm me up, beautiful.” A smile curves on his lips as I blush bright pink. “Just like that.”
I avoid his gaze as I clear my throat. That’s another thing Kane’s been doing lately.
Flirting. Now that Sam’s gone, things are actually…
normal-ish, or as normal as they can be.
I wouldn’t say that anything is better since there’s a gaping hole in my chest where Sam used to be, but the world feels different.
There’s less tension between Kane and Zane now that they’ve come to terms with whatever this is between the three of us, and I…
Well, I’m having trouble sleeping, and it’s giving me headaches.
“You shouldn’t be so nice to me.” I rub my tired eyes and take a quick breath. “I’m not so easily won over.”
Except, when Kane ducks his head and gets that sugar sweet look in his eyes as he tilts my chin up for a kiss, every cell in my body melts.
He’s stealing parts of me that I didn’t know he could.
“You like it when I’m mean, Siren?” Kane tugs on the end of my blanket so that I tumble into his chest. His teeth scrape my jaw as he slips his frozen fingers beneath the hem of my sweater.
“I can be really mean and make you cream all over my fingers. Shove your cute fucking hat in your mouth so no one hears you scream.” Swallowing hard, he drags in a lungful of air.
“I know you’ll love it, Mercy.” He kisses the column of my throat. “I promise.”
Heat blooms inside my chest and settles between my thighs.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, about being with Kane.
Or Zane, if I’m being honest. I’ve replayed the memory of them kissing each other over and over in my head, and I wonder…
if things are good with one partner, how good could it be with two?
I know that Sam was supposed to be here when I slept with Kane, but he’s disappeared, and I’m not sure when he’s coming back.
I don’t want to wait anymore.
“How about I stay the night with you? You and Zane.” I nod towards the church. “We could have…” I bite my bottom lip. “A sleepover?”
It sounds stupid as hell now that the words are out of my mouth.
“A sleepover?” Kane chuckles as he digs his thumb into the dip beneath my hip bone. “And what would you like to do at this sleepover?”
I swallow. “Um.” His hand slides around my waist until he’s cupping my ass. “W-watch a movie? It’s nearly Christmas. We could watch a—” My voice shakes as he squeezes my bare cheek beneath my panties. “—rom-com.”
A laugh rumbles deep in his chest. “Not the rom-com type. But tell you what. You watch the movie…” Kane’s breath is warm against my ear. “And I’ll enjoy the sweets.”
“Turn off the surveillance, babe! It’s movie time.” Kane shakes a bag of homemade cookies as he pushes through the front doors to the church—the ajar front doors—and leads me inside. “Grandma hooked us up.”
Zane looks up from his computer system, four monitors and a whirring, multicolored black box set on top of a folding table, and scowls. “You know how important—” He stops himself when he notices me. “She has a sleeping bag.”
I walk toward the unkempt mattress hiding behind the pulpit and throw my sleeping bag on top. “She is staying the night.”
“What?” Glaring up at Kane as he swoops down to kiss his forehead, Zane takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “That’s not what we agreed to, Kane.”
“Agreements can change.”
“When they’re discussed, not—” He opens his eyes and stares at me. “Trampled on.” Sighing, he turns back to his monitors and rapidly clicks his mouse. “Give me a minute to wrap this up. Go entertain her.” With a grin, Kane ruffles his lover’s unkempt hair and stomps over to me.
Seeing the chapel at night gives it a whole new vibe. In addition to the string lights criss-crossing over our heads, there’s the sound of crickets outside and the hum of multiple space heaters turned on full blast. The chill of winter keeps its distance.
“Love what you’ve done with the place.” The mattress is soft under my feet, so I plop down and shove my legs under the blankets.
It’s warmer in this little alcove than the rest of the room, with the string lights providing a soft glow of both light and heat from above.
Definitely a fire hazard. I’ll have to keep the Marshall away from this particular location when he comes for our annual inspection.
Despite my sarcasm about the venue, the longer I take in the view, the more I appreciate it. The stained glass windows twinkle from the bare bulbs scattered around the room, their soft sway from an invisible draft in the rafters making everything sort of… cozy. In a run-down, homey kind of way.
“It’s definitely an upgrade from the apartment,” Kane murmurs, “no matter what Zane says.” Holding out his hand, he smiles sweetly at me.
“C’mon, I want to show you something.” He pulls me to my feet and waits for me to slide on my slippers.
“I’ve been waiting for you to get curious,” he admits as he laces our fingers together. “Took you long enough.”
My face warms. “I’ve been busy!”
His smile curves into a smirk. “Mhm. Busy avoiding me and Zane.”
I sputter. “That’s not true! I see you all the time!”
“Yeah, because we come to you. Why do you think Zane spends so much time in your house? He doesn’t actually believe in tarot, you know.
He’s been waiting for you to sit with him.
Damn near bites my ear off about it every night.
I don’t know how many more times he can draw The Hanged Man without going insane. ”
“He’s been drawing the same card?”
Kane nods. “He’s convinced that your grandma’s stacking the deck, but I don’t think she has the dexterity to pull that off.”
What Grandma Star lacks in finesse, she makes up for with experience. I wouldn’t put anything past her when it comes to her tarot or her tea.
There’s a door near the back of the chapel that leads to the only other section of the church, the room where the pastor used to live.
When Kane swings open the door, I’m expecting to find an empty dust den, but it’s even brighter than inside the chapel.
Lamps of all shapes and sizes fill the space, with dozens of canvases and sketchbooks leaning against the walls or stacked on the floor.
Art supplies of all kinds litter the room in organized chaos, separated by type first, then by color.
Stacks of clean towels and buckets of water, some dirty with paint and others clean and clear, sit closest to the only window in the room.
A single easel stands beneath a warm spotlight created from multiple lamps with overturned shades, its canvas the largest in the room.
“I’ve been painting,” Kane informs me, “at night when I can’t sleep.
I’ve reworked this scene over and over again, but I can’t figure out what’s missing.
” He lifts me over a spilled patch of paint before walking through it himself, uncaring of the muted lavender footprints he leaves behind.
Standing behind me, he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on the top of my head. “I need your eyes, Siren.”