fourteen
The Merciful
“I had quite an enlightening conversation with my cousin,” Angel says as we walk back from the dining hall after dinner in the pouring rain.
“Oh yeah?” I ask, trying to sound normal though my heart is racing. “Which one?”
“Maverick,” Angel says, watching me from the corner of his eye as he holds the umbrella over us both.
I can tell he’s studying me, even though he thinks he’s being subtle.
It’s always good to know what your opponent is focused on, and I got so used to everyone being an opponent that I watch everyone, even the ones who are friends now.
“You didn’t tell him I suspected him, did you?”
“Nope,” Angel says cheerfully.
I think he likes knowing he’s driving me crazy, and that’s why he’s withholding information. The smug bastard.
He holds the umbrella over me at the door of my dorm while I swipe my key card. I know he has the key to the staff entrance around the back, but he plays along like the rules apply to him during the day.
“Did you find out anything?” I ask, deciding not to give him the reaction he wants.
We step inside the lobby, and Angel folds his umbrella before answering.
“Actually, I did,” he says. “Some very interesting things. About you.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but my heart is racing.
“What things?”
“It seems like he fixed up some masked fighter who got stabbed on the very same night you got stabbed. What a coincidence.”
“That… Is a coincidence,” I manage.
“Yeah, I might have believed that, since sometimes more than one person gets stabbed in a brawl, and there was a lot of fighting that night. But the thing is, he said he sent this Merciless away with his sister, and if I recall, she showed up here with you.”
I wince. I knew this was coming. In fact, I’m surprised it took him this long to talk to his cousins and put it together.
I don’t have a chance to explain, because we’re halfway up the stairs when the doorway to the second floor opens, and Annabel Lee steps out with Manson and Ronique.
I haven’t seen much of them in the few weeks since the Sinner’s party.
I’ve been avoiding reality, holing up in my room with movies and books and Dr. Jekyll, who’s started to show me his cuddly side too—when he feels like it.
It’s been nasty weather most of the time, so it felt like a good time to hibernate with my Jane Austen collection.
“Well, if it isn’t our resident secret ninja,” Annabel Lee drawls, arching a kohl-black brow at us. I shrink three sizes. She’s definitely not helping Angel’s suspicions.
When I don’t answer, her laconic gaze moves to him. “And my beefcake cousin. How’s the little heathen?”
I think she’s talking about Dr. Jekyll, so I open my mouth to answer, but Angel beats me to it.
“Milking it for all it’s worth,” he says, grinning. “What more could you expect?”
“I don’t expect anything,” she says in her droll way. “I don’t know him.”
“And how’s your little friend?” Angel asks, turning to Manson. “You doing okay there, Tighty Whitey? No lasting damage to that pretty face?”
“For your information, that was a stylistic choice,” Manson says. “And as I’m sure you noticed, since you straight guys are never as straight as you pretend to be, I pulled it off spectacularly.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Angel says.
“You do that, Mr. Testosteroni,” Manson says. “The Arkancisco treat.”
“I am a treat, aren’t I?” Angel asks.
“Stop flirting with my cousin,” Annabel Lee drawls. “It fills me with dread.”
Manson laughs and throws an arm around her. “Don’t worry, my little storm cloud. I’ll always share my rainy days with my beloved.”
“Let’s get to dinner before I lose my appetite,” Ronique says. “Say hi to your brother for me, Mercy.”
They start past us, but Manson stops on our step and lowers his voice to a theatrical whisper. “Since you’re so obsessed with my underwear, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Today I’m going commando.”
They pass, cackling together.
“Didn’t need to know that,” Angel calls after them.
We continue up to the third floor.
“So,” Angel says. “Why didn’t you tell us you were some badass fighter chick?”
“You never asked,” I say lightly.
“Right,” he says. “Because I’m definitely going to take one look at you cowering and whimpering like a dumb little lamb and think, that chick could kick all our asses if she wanted to.”
“Not my fault you underestimated me.”
“It’s your fault you pretended to be something you’re not,” he says as we make our way down the hall.
“Again, you never asked,” I say, stopping at my door. “There were three of you and one of me. I did what I had to do to get answers. If that meant letting you live your fantasy of having power over some helpless, pathetic little girl, that’s on you. I just let you.”
“You played into it.”
“Maybe I did,” I admit. “But you know me, Angel. You all know me. Did you really think I’d changed that much in four years?” I turn to the door and try to shove the key in, my eyes blurring with tears.
“I’m not mad at you,” Angel says gently, taking the key from me when I miss the second time. He opens the door and steps inside, scanning the room before he lets me in.
Dr. Jekyll meows grumpily. I think he misses our walks over the break, but it’s a lot harder to take him outside now that there are students outside and a nun at the desk.
“You wouldn’t want to go out in this anyway,” I say to him, picking him up and carrying him to the window. He yowls angrily and twists out of my grasp, so I barely have a chance to bend and deposit him before he streaks away and under the bed, hissing at me angrily.
“Damn,” Angel says. “He’s pissier than Heath and your brother combined.”
“Did you tell the others?” I ask.
He nods. “We don’t do secrets. But none of them are pissed either. Just surprised. And maybe a little impressed.”
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath and squeezing my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. I don’t know what I’d have done if I lost it all now, when I’m so close.
“I mean, I saw you fight the Sinners a couple times,” he says. “I knew you weren’t helpless. Just didn’t expect you to have a whole-ass life with a secret identity off campus.”
“It’s not that big a deal,” I insist. “I took classes, and then I realized that what you learn in a studio is never going to prepare you for a real fight. So I found some real fights, so I could apply it to the real world, if I ever needed to. And it’s a good thing I did, considering all the fights I’ve already been in this year. ”
“Speaking of… You gonna go visit Heath?”
“Yeah, I keep meaning to…”
“You can’t avoid him forever,” he points out. “The longer you wait to apologize, the more hurt he’s going to be.”
“How can I apologize?” I ask, wheeling on him. “I got him shot!”
“Exactly why you should be apologizing.”
“He’ll never forgive me.”
“He will,” he says. “You just have to set aside your pride and ask.”
I take a breath and face him squarely. “I can’t ask Heath to forgive me. I’m not even sure he’s forgiven me for before. I know he’s your friend, and we’re… Whatever…”
“Aww, are you asking if I’m your boyfriend?” Angel asks, a huge grin breaking over his face.
“No,” I protest, scowling. “…Maybe.”
“I’ll be anything you want me to be, baby girl,” he says, striding over and picking me up, boosting me so his hands are clamped on the back of my thighs and my head is above his. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean down to kiss him tentatively.
I’ve never gotten to do this—not really.
Most of my experiences have been initiated or instructed by someone else.
They’ve pushed me past my limits until I found new ones, then bulldozed those ones too.
I’ve never gotten to kiss someone simply because I want to, never let myself have this thing that I thought was a sin and beyond my reach.
“Even though I’m just a number to you?” I whisper, my heart breaking all over again when I remember his casual cruelty after our first time together.
“Number one,” he says, letting my body slide down a few inches, so we’re nose to nose. “You’ve always been number one for me, M. Always.”
He lowers me onto the bed, his mouth finding mine again, his hand slipping under my skirt.
His fingers are cold from outside, and I gasp when they skim up my inner thighs, tracing the seam of my lips through my underwear.
I shiver, but heat pulses in my core. Angel’s tongue sweeps over mine in a dominant, skillful rhythm that has me wet and whimpering in moments.
He tugs my panties aside and slips a finger underneath.
He plays with my entrance for a minute, until I break the kiss.
“Please,” I gasp out, and he answers by drawing back to watch my face as he pushes his finger into me so hard and deep that my entire body rocks on the bed.
I grip his shoulders, panting with need. “Tell me what you are,” he growls.
“Your girlfriend.”
He works in another finger, sliding both of them out and then back in just as deep. I moan with pleasure, and he does it again. “And whose pretty little pussy is this?”
“Yours,” I cry, opening my legs for him.
“Good little lamb,” he says, adding another finger. “Now tell me who gets to play with it?”
“You,” I manage, gasping at the painful stretch as he pushes his fingers as deep as they’ll go, straining against my walls.
“Who else?”
“What?”
“Who do you want to stretch out this tight pussy so I can fuck it like I want?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“I’ll tell you who I want to do it,” he says, skimming his nose over mine.
“Heath. He’s in the chapel right now. I want you to go there, and I want you to show him how sorry you are by fucking him until he can’t stay mad at you.
And then I want you to come back when he’s fucked you nice and loose, and I want you to fuck me raw with your cunt still full of his cum. ”
“Angel,” I scold, but my attempt at sounding scandalized is weakened by the fact that I’ve just drenched his fingers in arousal at the naughty picture he painted.