Have Mercy

by Hart, Lane

  Have Mercy

  L.A. Hart

  Contents

  Synopsis

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Also By Lane Hart

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue were created from the authors’ imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental.

  The authors acknowledge the copyrighted and trademarked status of various products within this work of fiction.

  © 2020 Editor's Choice Publishing

  All Rights Reserved.

  Only Amazon has permission from the publisher to sell and distribute this title.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editor’s Choice Publishing

  P.O. Box 10024

  Greensboro, NC 27404

  Edited by Angela Snyder

  Cover by EmCat Designs

  WARNING: WHILE HAVE MERCY IS A HIGH SCHOOL BULLY ROMANCE, IT CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC LANGUAGE AND DARK THEMES.

  Synopsis

  My relationship with Royal Fitzpatrick has always been complicated and messy. At times, it’s even been incredibly painful.

  When I finally decide to stand up to him our senior year, unable to take another second of his bullying, Royal does the last thing I expected – he promises to change his evil ways.

  But I’ve been hurt by him for too long. He’s a lost cause.

  We are a lost cause.

  At least that’s what I tell myself for months until I see him actually become the good, kind man I knew he could be.

  Unfortunately, Royal still has secrets, ones he’s intentionally kept from me and his best friends.

  So while I was stupidly planning our future together, Royal was just trying to make amends before he says a final goodbye.

  Chapter One

  Royal Fitzpatrick

  The Beginning

  The summer before junior year at Mercy Academy…

  “Get out of the fucking car, Royal!”

  “No.” I refuse my father yet again like the stubborn, sullen teenage boy I am.

  “This isn’t negotiable,” he grits out, jaw clenched tight. “All the church asked in exchange for keeping their mouths shut and not turning you in to the police was for us to pay for damages and for you to attend this silly, little camp. I will not have those assholes spreading rumors about what you’ve done, ruining our family’s name. Now, get out of the car, or I swear to God I will throw you out on the streets where you can fend for yourself!”

  As my father’s rant comes to an end, an older man in a, no shit, colorful Hawaiian shirt, comes smiling up to the driver side of my dad’s new, yellow Acura NSX that costs almost as much as his Ferrari.

  “Great,” he mutters, running his fingers through his auburn curls before rolling down the window. Mom always said his quick temper was genetic, just a part of his Irish background that he can’t help and that I also inherited. It’s not an excuse I’ll ever buy; but as a distraction technique, I still like to imagine him as the Notre Dame leprechaun whenever he’s pounding his fists into me.

  “Do you need any help with your bags?” the man asks.

  “No. I just need to finish saying goodbye to my son,” my father snaps at him.

  “Well, we have designated parking for that,” the old geezer responds, pointing to the row of parking spaces. “So, I’m going to need you to move over so other cars can get through.”

  “Yeah, in a fucking second,” my dad says before the window goes back up. Turning to me, he says, “You can either get out here, or I’ll have them drag you out by your hair at boot camp!”

  Screw that.

  I’ll take a bunch of bible thumping hypocrites over that harsh brutality any day.

  When I reach for the latch and open the door, my father mutters, “That’s what I thought. You’re too much of a pussy to ever survive boot camp.” I wince at his insult before climbing out of the car. “Royal!” he shouts when I start to shut the door to go get my bag out of the trunk.

  “What?” I ask, leaning down to see his face.

  “If I get even one phone call from this place saying you’re in trouble, you can kiss all of your friends goodbye; because you’ll be spending the next two years away at military school. The toughest one I can find to straighten your ass out!”

  I slam the door on him then and walk around to grab up my bag. As soon as I slam the trunk, he revs the engine and takes off so fast the wheels squeal.

  Asshole.

  Of all the stupid shit I’ve done, how was I to know that nearly killing myself by ramming his Ferrari through a church would be the one to break my father’s back? The place was old as fuck and needed to be rebuilt anyway. Who cares if it’s been around since the 1800s. I bet the crazy old fuckers hung witches from the trees just outside of it. My dad doesn’t even give a shit about the “historical structure”, as the members refer to it, or that I could’ve died if not for the airbags. He just doesn’t want anyone to find out I was responsible for the damage and make him look bad.

  I head inside the front of the building with my bag over my shoulder, following the signs pointing the way to check-in. When I spot Garrett Hyde, I mutter a curse just as he spots me and starts walking over. Not only are we both going to be juniors at Mercy in the fall, but his father also happens to be the pastor from the church I totaled. I should’ve known the dickhead would be here too.

  “Hey, man,” Garrett says with a grin like we’re friends or something when he’s standing a foot away from me in his khaki shorts and polo, his light brown hair so short its nearly shaved. He’s so clean-cut preppy that it’s seriously pathetic, like he’s trying way too hard to look the part of a good, little boy. “My father has you rooming with me, you know, so I can keep an eye on you.”

  “That’s fucking great,” I grumble.

  “Shh! You can’t say the f-word here,” he whispers wide-eyed while glancing nervously around the room to see if anyone overheard me.

  “Why not? Is your god going to strike me down if I do?” I huff. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck! Nope. I’m still standing here, unfortunately alive in this hellhole.”

  “Hell is going to be a lot hotter than this,” Garrett responds. “But I’m sure you’ll find that out firsthand one of these days.”

  I grit my teeth because the jackass actually thinks he’s better than me just because he doesn’t say fuck.

  Before I can really offend his delicate sensibilities by telling him to go suck his daddy’s dick, Hannah Morgan comes bouncing over to us. She’s the female counterpart to Garrett’s good guy image, even wearing a braid over her shoulder, which makes her look younger and more innocent than the sixteen years old that I know she is. Hell, she’s probably so squeaky clea
n that she doesn’t even say swear words in her own damn head.

  “Hey, Garrett!” Hannah says as she throws her arms around the chump’s neck to hug him. He awkwardly hugs her back while taking a step backward like he’s trying to hide his boner from her, making me snicker.

  “Hey, Hannah. I’m glad you came back this year,” Garrett gushes.

  “Yeah, of course,” she says when she lets him go and then glances over in my direction. “Royal? Wow, I had no idea you even went to church.”

  “I don’t,” I respond.

  “Ah, well, anyway, it’s great that you’re here and want to help out,” Hannah says happily. “Oh, Garrett! Can you ask your dad to put Royal in our group? That way he’ll at least know two people.”

  “Ah, sure,” the dickhead responds with a scowl, none too happy about having me join his little group, which is the only reason I don’t object. Also, because over the last few months Hannah’s grown a big rack. At least the view every day will be decent, if nothing else.

  “You should probably go find him and get it set up before he makes the groups,” Hannah suggests, running an annoyed Garrett off with her megawatt smile.

  When he’s gone, Hannah asks me, “So, this is your first year?”

  “Yep,” I reply while staring at her round melons that are straining her thin, white Camp Caremore tee.

  “You’re going to love it!” she assures me, which I highly doubt. “We get to help so many people, which is just the best feeling in the world, you know?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, you will,” she says. “I’ve got to go tell my parents goodbye, but maybe we can catch up later?”

  “Uh-huh,” I say to her tits. “Sure thing.”

  When she leaves, I’m a little disappointed she takes her rack with her; but then I get a nice, long look at her ass in her red, cotton shorts as she walks away, her cheeks swishing with each step.

  Someone steps in front of her, though, blocking my view. And based on the man’s age and the way he’s now glowering at me, I’m guessing it’s her father and he knows I was checking out his little girl.

  Screw him. It’s not illegal to look, and there’s not a damn thing he can do to stop me.

  With a heavy sigh, I notice that the line at the registration desk is dying down, so I go ahead and suck it up to get my information packet.

  When it’s my turn, a white-haired lady behind the table asks my name.

  Is everyone who works here ancient?

  She pulls out an envelope for me, along with a campus map and a key to my dorm room.

  “Now,” she starts. “Do you have your cell phone?”

  “Ah, yeah,” I respond, pulling it out of my pocket. “It’s right here.”

  “Wonderful,” she says gleefully before plucking the device from my hand.

  “What are you doing?” I shout at her.

  “Do you have any laptops, tablets or other electronic devices in your bag?”

  “No. Now give me my phone back!” I demand.

  “Sorry, but we don’t allow phones or any computers,” she says, slapping a label with my name on the back of my phone’s cover and then tossing it into a bin full of cell phones behind her.

  “Are you kidding me?” I ask in disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Serious as a heart attack,” the old bird says. “And if you are caught with electronics during your weekly room inspection, you will be disciplined, and your parents will be contacted. Now, off you go.”

  Fuck.

  If I had known I had to give up every connection to the outside world, I may have chosen boot camp instead. Although, they probably don’t allow phones either and I’d be doing pushups and running for the next four weeks. Guess that’s one upside to this place.

  * * *

  Hannah Morgan

  “Are the girls in different dorms than the boys?” my dad asks while I’m hugging him and my mom goodbye.

  “Yes, of course. Why?” I ask since he’s never questioned the living situation in all the years I’ve been coming here.

  “No reason,” he mutters. “Just, stay away from the boys. They’re nothing but trouble at this age.”

  “I know that, Dad,” I tell him, thinking of one specific troublemaker.

  I can’t believe Royal Fitzpatrick is here this summer. He’s one of the richest, most popular guys at Mercy Academy. All the other boys look up to him because he’s a jock, and all the girls have crushes on him and his two best friends, Aric Prince and Blake Sullivan, because they’re hot. I’ve barely ever talked to the three guys unless one of them asked to borrow a pencil or for me to move so they could get to their lockers.

  “We better go so you can get unpacked,” my mom tells me with a smile and another quick hug. “Love you, sweetie.”

  “Love you too,” I tell them before I roll my suitcase toward the side door, ready to make the long trek up the hill to the dorms.

  And like the past two summers, all of the girls my age that I say hello to ignore me, which is so frustrating. I’ve never done anything to them, so I don’t know why they’re so mean to me.

  Hopefully, this year I can get them to just talk to me and tell me why they hate me so much.

  My room is on the second floor of the Dogwood building, which sucks because there is no air-conditioning and the upper floor is much warmer than the lower ones. Still, I’ll survive.

  I’ve already unpacked my suitcase and am sitting on my bed sketching a rose with charcoal when the door opens, and Leeanne Winters walks inside.

  “Oh, heck no!” she exclaims when she sees me. “I am not rooming with you!”

  “Wait! Why not?” I rush to ask her before she retreats. “What’s your problem with me?”

  “As if you don’t know!” Her face turns a dark shade of red before she looks away, reaching up to smooth her short, black hair down and tuck it behind her ears.

  “I don’t!” I tell her with an annoyed huff.

  “For years now you’ve just strung poor Garrett along, making him think you want him when really you’re just messing with him.”

  “What?” I ask in confusion. “Garrett?”

  “You go to school with him, and then he follows you around here like a lost puppy dog all day and night. Why don’t you just tell him that you don’t want him so someone else can have a chance?”

  “You-you like Garrett?”

  “Well, duh! Everyone knows that!”

  “I didn’t know,” I tell her honestly. That’s why the girls hate me? Because of Garrett. “And I had no idea that Garrett…I think you’re wrong. He doesn’t like me.”

  “Yes, he does. It’s pathetic and such a waste of his hotness.”

  If she thinks Garrett’s hot, then she’s obviously not seen Royal, who is, like, a million times hotter. All Royal is missing is a few tattoos and some facial hair, and then he would be the posterchild for bad boys.

  “Garrett’s just a friend. I don’t like him that way,” I assure her.

  “Then maybe you should tell him.”

  “Okay. I will,” I agree.

  “I’m still not rooming with you,” she huffs with her nose in the air.

  “That’s fine. I’d rather have the room to myself anyway,” I lie before she slams the door shut.

  The truth is, I hate being an outcast. Not that I come to camp every year to make friends. I come here to do some good for people who need it, but it would be nice to have someone to talk to that doesn’t hate me.

  Maybe once I talk to Garrett, the girls will stop being so catty and will finally be nice to me again.

  Chapter Two

  Royal

  “Time to get up!” Garrett says before he finally turns off his clock radio that startled me awake and out of a really good dream. I was in an actual soft bed, not one of these piece of shit cots, and I was surrounded by boobs. Big ones, small ones, all right in front of my face, filling my hands. I was just about to shove my dick between a pair when th
e asshole’s alarm interrupted.

  When I finally squint my eyes open, the ceiling light is blinding, but it’s still dark outside the open window. That’s right, windows up at night are the only hope of cooling down since this fucking place is so old it doesn’t even have air conditioning, which means I probably have no less than five million mosquito bites.

  “It’s too early,” I mutter, covering my face with the pillow.

  “We have morning prayer at six-thirty before we report to the shelters to find our groups. You owe me for putting you in mine, by the way.”

  “Whatever. I’m not going.”

  “You have to,” the goody-two shoes says. “If you don’t, I’ll tell my dad…”

  “Fuck you,” I huff before slinging my pillow across the room at him. I don’t even see if it lands before I roll out of the damn bed. Not like it was that comfortable anyway. I’m hot and hard and would give anything to just fuck someone in a freezer right now.

  Since that’s not an option, I take an ice-cold shower, not by choice, and then put on the stupid white camp tee with a pair of black athletic shorts. At least the shirt reminds me that all the girls will be wearing the same tight one, so the day won’t be a complete waste.

  Half an hour later and I’ve had breakfast and am hiking up yet another hill to get to the shelter where my group is supposed to meet. I see Hannah and Garrett sitting at one picnic table with a few other guys and…all of the other girls at a table on the far side. It’s strange, but it’s too early for me to really give a shit.