Page 174 of Merciless
“And this all involves me, why, exactly? I don’t have anything to say to him.”
“Oh, he’s not talking. He isn’t capable of that right now.”
Scrubbing my hand down my face, I try to read between the lines.
“Why have you pulled him in?” I ask, despite the fact I really don’t care.
I need to remember that this role that I’ve been born into is meant to be everything I always dreamed of. If I drop the façade, then there’s every chance I’ll be the one unconscious in one of their holding cells.
“He’s been causing me shit and needs to be taught a lesson.”
“And you’re up here talking to me about it because…”
“You haven’t been yourself recently, Son,” Dad says, almost sounding concerned for my well-being. “Thought you might appreciate the stress relief.”
“At least he can’t fight back,” Victor says, his pride for his eldest son glowing brightly in his eyes.
Lifting my hands, I crack my healing knuckles.
“What cell is he in?”
Dad rubs his hands together. “That’s what we like to hear.”
“Go have your fun,” Victor instructs. “We’ll join you shortly and make a decision about what to do with the cunt.”
Pushing my chair out, I walk toward the door, but my steps falter when Dad’s voice fills the air.
“It’s always the same. They think one whore is worth giving it up for and everything goes to shit. No single pussy is that fucking good. I should know, I’ve tried enough.”
My fists curl at my sides.
“Don’t you agree, Mav?”
Ripping the door open, I march through it, leaving it to slam in my wake.
I don’t head straight toward the holding cells; instead, I make a detour to the bar. I’ve no idea what’s coming, but I know it’s going to be bad. The dread that was confined to my stomach is starting to seep through my veins.
I nod at the Hawk manning the bar and point to the whiskey lined up along the back wall.
He pours me a large measure and I throw it back.
“Surprised to see you here again so soon,” he says, having clearly watched the fight on Friday night.
“We all have to lose every now and then,” I mutter, before rapping my knuckles on the bar top and taking off with the alcohol warming my belly.
The second the two Hawks guarding the cell Victor has thrown Kane in spot me, they guess where I’m heading and stand aside.
“Afternoon, Mav,” one of them greets. In return, I barely spare him a glance.
I’m not known around here for my friendly attitude. Or at least, I’m not anymore.
When I was young and naïve about what was happening to the unlucky girls of this town, I was the life of the party. I’d spent all my time here, wishing I could grow up faster to become a Hawk. Back then, all I wanted was to initiate, claim my title and fuck as many girls as I could get my hands on.
Oh, how times have changed.
No words are exchanged as I let myself into the room and find Kane slumped in the corner.
His face is even more fucked up than mine, and he’s got blood running from his hairline, his shirt soaked through.