Chapter 18 Mercy #2
“We were interrupted before he gave me anything. He had to deal with the situation.”
Theo’s gaze darkened. “Yes. I’m aware. Luckily, he arrived after we’d already fallen back, so he couldn’t do much damage.”
“Why would you plan it on a Thursday night when you knew I’d be with him?”
Releasing a breath, Theo relaxed a bit. “I was hoping he’d be otherwise occupied. The fewer of them we have to deal with, the better.”
I picked at a frayed seam in Lucas’s sweatpants. “Were you successful?”
“We were. His information was good.”
I eyed him, challenging. “It always is.”
He hummed noncommittally. “I keep expecting a bait and switch.”
Sorrow dragged cold fingers across my heart at Theo’s callous admission.
It made sense that he held little trust in Lucas.
Theo was still picturing the man I’d expected in the beginning—the killer with the iced bloodlust. But Lucas wasn’t that man at all, and the absurd need to argue on his behalf attacked my self-restraint.
Lucas had done nothing but help us from the moment he approached Theo with this arrangement. He didn’t deserve Theo’s distrust.
“He isn’t going to do that,” I said. “You can trust him.”
Theo’s brows lifted, making it clear he thought me naive, even though he didn’t say it. “Why don’t you get some rest, Sophia? You had a long night.”
The following Thursday I found Lucas perched on the armrest of the sofa in the living room, waiting for me. I opened my mouth, but he interrupted me before anything emerged. “It’s healing fine.”
Crossing my arms, I sent him a scowl. “That isn’t what I was going to ask.”
He dipped his head, eyebrows raised in skepticism.
I shut and locked the door. “Okay, it was, but I was worried. You didn’t let me sew it.”
He stood and strolled toward our training room. “Don’t waste time worrying about me, Sophia. I’m either fine or I’m dead.”
I shot a glare at the back of his head as I followed, tugging off my outer layers as I went. We faced each other, and for a brief moment, I wondered whether he’d address the misshapen elephant that had entered our midst in the form of a soft kiss haunting all my waking thoughts.
But no.
The corner of his mouth quirked, and he leveled me with a pointed stare. “Today, I’m a rapist. Save your innocence.”
A laugh caught in my throat. “Lost that a long time ago.”
“Humor me.”
In seconds, he had both arms around my body, slamming his full weight into me, knocking the breath from my lungs.
I tried to knee him, to dig my elbows in, but he upended me, and we landed together on the plush, carpeted floor.
My back spasmed, but I tried to fight my way from beneath him.
His hairbrush-knife pressed into my throat.
I went limp and huffed in frustration.
He jerked away, and I rose to take the beating again. At one point he managed to hold both my wrists in one hand, his legs straddling my hips. He had one arm free to do whatever he wanted, and I was helpless.
“Are you even trying?” he demanded.
“Yes!”
“Once you’re pinned, you’re fucked. Literally. You need to do everything you can to prevent it.”
“I know.”
“Then do it. Don’t let me get your wrists.”
He jumped off me, and I tried again. I wound up with my arms locked above my head, my legs hooked around him.
“Don’t spread your legs.”
“You spread my legs.”
He rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Your goal is to keep me from doing it.”
My brain stuttered.
Because…
I didn’t think that was my goal at all, and wasn’t that just proof of my infinite lunacy?
We did it again. I managed to keep my legs closed, but I was still trapped beneath him.
Again and again.
I would have stomped my foot if I’d had the mobility. “I’m smaller than you, and I will never be as strong. Show me how to beat you.”
“Slide your right hand above your head.”
I did.
“Plant your right foot outside my ankle.”
I did that too.
“Now push your hips up and roll.”
We rolled together and our positions reversed.
I scowled. “Why couldn’t you start with that?”
Impatience flittered across his expression.
“I’ve shown you this before. I was hoping you’d figure it out on your own.
You need to learn to fight dirty. You’ll never be stronger than the man attacking you.
You’re on top now. Find your knife. If you don’t have one, hit my face.
It wouldn’t take much for me to get you on your back again. ”
“Okay. Here I am. How do I get away?”
“Think about where your knee is. Jerk it up.”
I started to, but he twisted to avoid it. “Don’t actually do it. Jesus!”
Chagrined, I pulled back.
“I’d still like to be able to use that portion of my anatomy when we’re done.”
Blood rushed to my face, staining my skin, as images poured through my mind of him using that portion of his anatomy.
“Sorry,” I muttered, then mimicked the move.
He fake-flinched, his grip loosening. I scrambled to get away, darting to my feet.
At the door, his hand gripped my ankle, and I fell hard onto my stomach.
After sliding me toward him, he leapt onto my back, his weight pressing me into the carpet.
I wriggled in vain and gave up with a sigh.
When he laughed, I jerked my elbow back, catching him hard in the side. He oof-ed and chuckled.
“Get off me, Luke!”
“Ah, have we officially reached the nickname stage of our relationship? Can I call you Soph now?”
“I hate you. Get off.”
He rolled onto his back beside me. I stayed on my stomach. A tinge of mirth danced in his eyes. “I should point out an assailant would likely not obey you.”
I offered a scathing glare. “Thanks for those poignant words of advice.”
“Alright. That’s it for today. Once you start spitting at me, you’re useless.”
Quelling the fiery desire to punch his arm, I rose to sit cross-legged beside him. “Do you have any information?”
He rubbed a hand across his face. “They’re moving a load of prisoners from the Stability bloc in a month. You may be able to intercept them.”
“Where are they taking them?”
“Executions. They’re running out of resources to keep everyone alive.” He said it so blasé, like we were discussing which of his coworkers stole his favorite pen.
“Who will perform the executions?”
“Me.”
Right. Of course.
Why did I always forget this about him? The man was an executioner.
“They’re painting it like a celebration. A huge win for the NAO. They know the Defiance is getting closer to toppling everything, and they want to get under your skin, prove they still have all the power.”
“So if we fail, how many people…?”
He shrugged. “I think around two hundred.”
Two hundred?
My head swooped. A moment passed before I could speak. “How—how can you be so calm about potentially murdering that many innocent people?”
“Potentials are not actualities.” His gaze cut to mine. “And I’m not calm. I’m pissed. This shit always falls on me.”
I paused on the bare creases between his eyebrows, the flush of red in his nose and cheeks. Expressive this man was not, but I’d finally learned to parse out the subtle tells in his face.
This was Lucas Scott, angry.
“It does,” I said, puzzling out his reaction. “Why?”
He shook his head, withholding an answer.
“Could you refuse to do it?”
His mouth twisted. “So we can watch Jackie Miller do it instead?”
All the blood drained from my head as another piece of the puzzle snapped violently into place.
The NAO took away their option to use firearms for executions solely to degrade us.
They wanted us to know the horror that would happen to those who defied them.
But unlike his comrades, who tortured before they killed, Lucas didn’t inflict pain or make the deaths linger.
Perhaps Commander Haynes had realized how this treatment of his POWs would look to the rest of the world. Not even fascists enjoyed overt human suffering.
“Holy shit,” I muttered.
His arched brows drew together. “What?”
How could I not have seen? Not only did Lucas offer the most merciful death, he also did it in the most terrifying way. With Lucas and his scalpel, Commander Haynes got exactly what he wanted—terror and a humane death.
“You… You’re… You…”
“Are you having a stroke?”
“This is why you volunteered,” I said, my voice all raspy and weak. “This is why you wanted to be the one to kill the kid.”
Understanding washed over his expression. “Oh, god,” he said like I was about to put him through something torturous. “Don’t glamorize this.”
“You can’t save them, so you kill them as painlessly as possible.”
I couldn’t reconcile the man I’d originally imagined with the one lying on the floor next to me. Every new fact transformed my opinion of him into something less dark than before.
Lucas was a man whose ethics had been molded by the atrocities of war, who believed worthy ends justified shady means. He did what he had to, even when it ripped him to pieces to do it.
He was a champion cloaked in shadows, a sinner bathed in light.
In one swift move, he sat up and gripped my hand in both of his. “Why are you still looking for something to redeem?”
“You are tearing your soul apart to save people from torture!”
“They still die, Sophia,” he said, incredulous. “I take their lives.”
I narrowed my gaze on him. “How long does it take to die from a severed carotid artery?”
His jaw clenched. “Longer than it takes to pass out from it.”
“So if it isn’t mercy, what is it?”
Face hard, he glared at me, and in that moment, I knew he wouldn’t admit it. He’d never see himself the way I saw him because he’d never existed on this side of things, watching his own people be skinned alive simply for wanting to be free.
“No one should suffer for a death they don’t deserve,” he said eventually. “Being humane doesn’t make me merciful. It doesn’t make me good. I don’t care about these people I kill.”
I glanced down at his scarred hands holding mine. The gold band on his pinky glinted at me. “Yes, you do. You hear their voices at night, begging for mercy.”
He deflated, and when he spoke again, his tone was resigned. “You’re making me out to be better than I am.”
“I know what I see.”
With a long exhale, he whispered my name like he couldn’t believe the sheer extent of my stupidity. I lifted my gaze to him, unable to stop myself from snagging on his mouth, remembering how it felt against mine.
“You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”
“And you’re the most confusing man,” I said. “But I think… I think I’m beginning to understand you.”
He shook his head and stood. “If you really understood, you would have killed me a long time ago.”