She leans back and looks away.
“That's just one box. What about the others?”
If she wasn't on the bed, I wouldn't feel the way her entire body flinches, but she must have seen this coming. It's the big question. The one that has to be answered.
“Everything my father ever owned is inside those boxes.”
“Did you kill him too?”
Hurt flashes in her eyes when she whips back to face me, but it slowly fades into remorse. It's a good thing to see, especially now, when I was strongly beginning to doubt she had a soul.
“Yes.”
“In self-defense?” If she can hear the sarcasm in my voice, she doesn't let on.
“No. That was an accident.” Her hands wring together, eyes darting all around the room. “He was fighting with my mother at the top of the stairs and she was crying, screaming at him, trying to pull him in close...but he was trying to get away. He struck her...and something inside of me cried out and ran to him. And then, I realized I was actually crying out and running to him.”
She closes her eyes tight, jaw tensing—the look of a woman reliving a painful memory she's tried to keep buried.
“You pushed him down the stairs.”
Her wild black hair dances across her shoulders when she shakes her head. “No. I shoved him over the banister.”
I've been on the stairs here a few times, so it's not difficult to see the grim story play out before my eyes. Blair screaming. Daniel shouting right back. Little Mercury hiding in the corner, witnessing what no child ever should. Her tiny shoulders shaking. Tears dripping down her cherub face. Determination filling her. Forcing her to stand. Soft feet padding across the hardwood floor. Short arms coming up. Pushing. Scrambling. Eyes going wide as her father tips a little too far over the edge...
“What happened after?”
“The ambulance came. Cops came. My mother told them it was an accident.”
“And was it?”
Her eyebrows come together in a tiny crinkle at the middle of her forehead. She doesn't answer right away, and I wonder if this is a dilemma that has consumed her for years.
“I didn't love my father, not in the traditional sense, at least...but I respected him. I wanted to please him. I hungered for his affection, did whatever I could to make him happy, so it doesn't make sense that I would have purposefully killed him. Maybe...maybe I didn't understand what would happen if I pushed too hard.”
She sniffs back tears, and that sound...that one little sound...has my chest constricting in pain. Empathetic pain. For her. Because I know what it's like to kill a father. I know what it's like to watch the only man you've ever truly respected die by your hand. And it's a pain unlike any other.
I take a beat and steer the conversation in a different direction, for both our sakes.
“And Josh? What happened after you killed him?”
She shrugs. “Nothing really. Keepers came and took his body.”
“Where?”
“To burn.”
She says it so easily, as if it's common practice. For all I know, it could be. I'm beginning to see the secrets within these walls far outnumber the sins.
“So...what now?” she whispers. “You run to your brother? Tell him what I did?”
Hearing from her own lips that she thinks I'd turn her in and turn my back on her for good...is fucking excruciating. I crane my head forward as far as I can manage, fuming as I lean into her. “If you really think I'd do something like that, then fuck you, Mercury.”
“Fuck me, huh?” She arches one dark brow.
“Yes. Fuck. You.”
Full lips curl into a smile, and before I have a chance to react, she throws a leg over my hips, landing on my lap. Straddling me, the thin nightshirt she's wearing rides up her thighs, and my body reacts, hips thrusting up, rubbing against where I know she's warm and tight and pliant.
Her hands splay out over my chest and the ends of her hair tickle my face as she stares down at me, our breathing growing labored from the tension stringing tightly through us both. She rocks her hips, I stifle a groan. It's a power play on her part, one I don't appreciate but can't escape.
When she leans down and licks the side of my neck, all the way up to my jaw and cheek, I turn my face away.
Stopping at my temple, she whispers, “Fuck me?”
I'm fighting a losing battle between what I want and what is right. My body on one side of the battlefield, my heart on the other.
“Is that what you want, Kessler?” she asks. “You want to fuck me?”
Gazing down between us at the spot where her bare pussy is pressed to my zipper, I do the stupidest thing imaginable.
I nod.
There's no use fighting it. I want her. Despite everything, I'll probably always want her.
Wordlessly, she scoots back, never breaking eye contact as she pops the button on my jeans and drags down the zipper. I lift my hips to help and she stops when the material is bunched at my thighs, acting as another restraint. My dick springs free, throbbing with a painful ache to take her when she kisses just the tip.
“Mercury...” I close my eyes, enjoying her warm breath fanning over me.
When I open them again, her nightshirt is gone. She's completely bared to me as she grips the base of my dick and positions herself to take me in.
Pleasure-filled moans escape into the darkness when she sinks down, taking me all the way to the hilt in a quick maneuver I know has to hurt, but that's the way she likes it. Her hair fans out around her like a dark cape as she rides me, tits bouncing, head thrown back, hands clawing at my chest as she lifts up and slams down in quick succession.
I want to touch her. I want to grab that hair and yank it like a leash. I want to drive into her, hard and fast, until tears leak from her eyes and the only sound filling the room is her raspy voice as she screams my name.
I bang my wrists against the headboard. “Unlock these.”
“No,” she moans, grinding her hips. “You stay right there.”
“Unlock them now.”
She shakes her head, muttering a curse when I thrust my own hips up to meet her. It could be so much better if she'd just let me go. She'd enjoy it; the way I infuse my lust with anger. I know she would.
I look up, smiling as I inspect both the metal and wood keeping me tethered to the bed.
“Fine.”
Grabbing hold of the chain, I jerk as hard as I can. Mercury looks up through a curtain of hair and gasps, freezing as her eyes flash with surprise, but before she can do a damn thing about it, I jerk again, this time breaking through two spindles on her headboard, freeing myself.
My hands come down fast, shoving Mercury off my dick so she lands on her ass, feet kicking as she scrambles to reclaim the upper hand, but that's not going to happen. I'm too blinded, too trapped, too far past redemption to allow her show of dominance to progress. I rear up and land on top of her, hands braced on either side of her head, the chain connecting each cuff stretched taut across her neck as her head dangles off the foot of the bed.
At my mercy...
The look she casts me is equal parts lust and fear as she licks her lips, gripping my forearms tight. “Are you still mad?” she asks, her voice hoarse thanks to the pressure of the chain.
“Yes,” I hiss.
Slowly, her expression changes and softens, until all I can see is expectant pleasure and glee. “Good.”
Mercury screams out when I plunge into her, starting a punishing rhythm from the get-go, never once allowing her time to breathe or speak or fight me. Not that she would. Her ankles lock together behind my back and I push harder against the mattress, tightening the chain. She gasps for breath, but I keep a close watch on her skin, her eyes, her mouth, making damn certain I don't cross a line. Because as pissed as I am...she's still Mercury, and I am still me. Meaning she is still the most enchanting person I've ever met, and I am still completely lost in her.
Nails dig into my skin when she tighte
ns around me, her orgasm ripping through her so roughly her legs tremble. She arches into me, choking, and as soon as I see pleasure wash over her features, I let go and drown in my own climax.
The chain clanks noisily as I remove my hands and cradle her head in both palms. Face nestled into the crook of her shoulder, I let my lips linger on her heated skin, breathing in her dark scent. My mind is reeling. Coming inside my favorite woman has done nothing to dull the disappointment and resentment I feel toward this entire situation.
This conversation isn't over. In fact, it's imperative we hash a few things out before we venture any further. Because if it comes down to protecting myself or protecting Mercury, I know which I'll choose. And if it comes to me throwing myself under the bus for her, I want to make damn sure she knows why I did it.
I clear my throat. “If Griffin ever got wind of this—”
“I know.” Mercury is quiet for a long time. When she finally shifts and I move so I can lie beside her, she takes my face in her hands, touching me with a tenderness most people assume she's incapable of showing. “I'm sorry I threw you out. I understand what you did. I know you. I know you were only doing what you thought was right.” She drags in a deep, unsteady breath that shakes us both. “I keep giving you reasons to leave.”
“I should have told you. When Blair found out...I should have come forward.”
Her apology is the only thing I address, because as much as I'd like to tell her that I'm incapable of leaving, I hold my tongue, hoping she'll finally confess how she feels about me. I want to hear her say it. I want to bear witness to her truth.
She turns to grab something off the floor. When she rolls back, I see it's the key to the cuffs. She unlocks one and then the other, and they fall to the ground. “You're good, Kessler. You don't belong here. And I think we both know I don't deserve you.”
Before I can formulate a response, or insist that it's not true, Mercury turns on her side, giving me her back. Lying there with my Blacklighter, seeing her walls come up between us, is crushing.
I scoot in close and wrap her naked torso in my arms, positioning my lips directly above her ear. “Circumstance may have turned you into a monster, but there's so much more to you, Mercury.”
She tucks her chin into her chest. “There's really not.”
There is. Like the fact that she's an exceptional human being. A beautiful, smart, strong woman. A person with a hidden gentleness buried deep down, if only someone would come along and help her unearth it. It's there. I know it is.
“Mercury...” I flatten my hand against her back, feeling the way her torso expands and deflates with every breath. “Do you want to know why I can't tell my brother? Do you want to know why I'd deceive my flesh and blood just to keep you safe?”
I'm not sure why my question flips some kind of switch, but it does, because Mercury's entire body tenses. “Stop.”
That one forceful word makes me pull away. “Stop what? What's wrong?”
“Stop talking.”
“Why? Because you know I'm right?”
“No.” She pushes off the bed, practically flying away from me. “I know what you're about to say, but you're wrong. Because I know what I am, okay? I know what I'm capable of feeling. And this?” She turns, placing one palm on her chest, pointing the other hand to mine. “This isn't real. I want it to be, I swear to you I do, but...the villain doesn't get a happily ever after in the fairy tale, you know? It doesn't work that way. So please...don't.”
Her words slice through me, one by one until I'm a swirling vortex of conflicting emotions. I get where she's coming from, and I get why she's saying the things she is, but she's wrong.
“Fuck the fairy tale.” I swing my legs off the bed and pull my jeans back over my hips. “I know what I'm feeling, Mercury, and I know it's strange and new, and really fucking scary, but there's not a doubt in my mind that I care about you.”
“Please...stop.” She slaps both hands over her face, unable to bear witness to what's happening.
“I love you,” I blurt. “And I don't care if you believe it or not, it's the goddamn truth.”
“But you don't!” she insists. “It's...this place. It's this room. It's...this body. It's...I'm it! I'm all you have here! You're forced to be in my life. That doesn't mean you love me!” She shakes her head. “So please don't do this. Don't make things harder than they need to be.”
“You're wrong. About everything. I know what love is, Mercury, and it doesn't give a shit about time or space or your fucking address. It doesn't care about your sins or how many wrongs you've committed. It doesn't care about the lies you've told or the blood you've spilled. None of that shit matters; not to love and certainly not to me.” I grab hold of her shoulders, jarring her with a rough shake. “Why are you so hellbent on pushing everyone away when they—”
An animalistic scream cuts me off. Mercury tears both hands through her hair, stumbling back, her face pinched tight with misery. “Because I don't know what it means!” She gasps in a breath, shocked by her own revelation. “I don't know what that word means.”
All the air is let out of my sails with that confession, and there's nothing that can stop me from going to her. I have to hold her. I have to feel her, alive and thriving in my arms.
“Mercury...” I'm poised for a fight, but she doesn't give me one. She slumps forward into my arms freely, letting me lead her to the bed where I gather her in my arms and hold her to my chest, cradling her with the greatest of care.
I hate that she's so jaded, but if there's one thing I've learned recently, it's that anyone can be rehabilitated. No matter how dark the sin, the sinner can always be led to light.
“I think you know exactly what it means,” I say, soothing a hand down the back of her head. “I think you're just too scared to admit it.”
“I'm not scared,” she grumbles, making me smile.
Even now, naked and vulnerable and emotionally tormented, her fire is incapable of being snuffed out.
“I can't be responsible for what you become,” she says. “It's inevitable. Everyone changes. Everyone turns cold and hard. They have to if they want to survive here. I just...I don't want to break you.”
I kiss her hair and close my eyes, realizing exactly what she's really saying, and my heart fucking sings.
“You won't break me, Mercury, I promise.”
Finally, she looks up, and my smile confuses her. “You're not listening,” she insists, placing a palm against my cheek. “I'm giving you an out, Kessler, you should take it. You won't get another one.”
She wants me to leave Farewell.
She's willing to push me out the door and stay behind because she thinks it'll save me.
And that right there, ladies and gentlemen...is love.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Mercury
The brush glides effortlessly through my hair and I smile, remembering what it felt like to have Kessler at my back, massaging conditioner into each ratted strand. The way he meticulously washed and rinsed me, worshiping my body, laying kisses to patches of bare skin just hours ago.
Under the hot spray of the shower, my Keeper took me up against the cold tile, cradling my body in his capable hands as he slid inside me slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to devote to my pleasure.
He didn't fuck me. The steady pace, the whispered words of affection, the deep kisses as he explored me with his tongue...it was something different. Something new. It was forgiveness. And when I grabbed hold of his shoulders and came, he wiped the water out of my eyes and spoke three words against my lips.
Three words no one else has ever said to me before.
Dragging me from my thoughts, Kessler comes up behind me, smelling fresh from the shower, and pulls the strap of my tank top aside, kissing my bare shoulder. Tingles zoom through me as I bask in his affection, looking up into his handsome face. His hair is still damp but it's pulled back into a knot at the base of his skull. His t-shirt and jeans fit snugly—j
ust the way I like. He looks and smells like comfort.
Like home.
“Good morning.” His deep voice rumbles quietly, making me shiver.
I reach a hand back and caress his cheek. “Yeah...it is.”
Spinning in my seat, I take hold of his face properly and kiss him, wishing I could do more. Wishing I could give this man everything he deserves.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
His eyebrows draw close together. “For what?”
I lean into him, closing my eyes so I can just...be. “Thank you for staying.”
He takes my hands in his, kissing my knuckles. “Of course.”
I open my mouth to say something else, but a scream breaking through our tranquil moment stops me. In a flash, we're both up and running for the door, barging into the hallway, only to come to a screeching halt at what's waiting for us.
I'm so confused, so perplexed, it takes me a few beats to process what I'm seeing.
Eric is on his knees, hands clawing through his short hair in agony while Layla kneels on the floor, holding a woman in her arms. A woman I know well. Her blue eyes are wild, blonde hair askew, and even though there's blood seeping out of her mouth and nose, the woman who brought me into this world is still as beautiful as always.
“Mother?”
Blue eyes latch onto mine and she gestures wildly, beckoning me to go to her. I do. I run the length of the hallway, my knees giving out when I'm mere feet away, forcing me to drop down and crawl until I'm close enough to take her hand.
“What...what happened? What's wrong?”
Her body lurches as she chokes on blood, sending speckles out to land on my face and hair.
“Mother...” I whimper. I've never seen anything like this before. My mother is the sun. She's unbreakable. She's the center of my life—the center of the whole fucking universe.
Her limbs jerk wildly, but she keeps her eyes trained on me as a single finger dips into her mouth, soaking it in blood. Clawing at my wrist, she takes my hand and I watch, both mesmerized and terrified, as she writes four number on my palm then pushes it back against my stomach. I press it to my shirt, ensuring whatever she just gave me is safe.
The Monster of Farewell (Blacklighters Book 1) Page 25