Page 67 of Merciless

“Get out,” I roar, dropping the barbell and almost crushing my chest in the process.

Fucking JD.

Fucking Alana.

Lifting the bar back into place, I sit up and comb my fingers through my hair.

I had a plan. It was all going fucking smoothly and then she turns and throws everything into chaos.

How does one little blonde woman cause so much fucking drama while locked in one tiny room?

17

ALANA

The heat from my release soon disappeared, right along with the high as my reality returned and I found myself alone in my gray cell.

My clothes might have dried by the time I pulled them on, but I was missing my panties and my bra. I remember JD holding the lace thong in front of his nose and inhaling. It really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. But then that’s JD in a nutshell. Nothing about him or this situation should be turning me on. But it is.

It only confirms what I already know. I’m fucked up and broken beyond belief.

I should be terrified. Crying in the corner and begging to be released, not lying back on my bed getting myself off to fantasies about two men tying me up and doing a whole host of unholy things to me.

I might have been freezing, my entire body shivering again, but my exhaustion soon dragged me under. I’d hoped that maybe JD would be right and I’d spend all night having filthy dreams about all the things he described to me. Maybe I did. But the only dreams I remember were nightmares.

I might have been bound and totally at the mercy of two men. But it wasn’t JD and Reid who stepped out of the shadows to punish me but two older, eviler men, who had a hand in ruining my life all those years ago.

I thought running from them would help. I even believed that being with Mav would provide me with the relief I was so desperate for. But while they might not have been anywhere near me, for the first few years at least. They never left. As soon as the sun set and I closed my eyes, there they were. Taunting me, torturing me, hurting me.

The opening of my heavy door drags me out of my fitful sleep. And despite how wrong it is, when Reid steps into my space, relief floods me that it’s not them.

The same DNA might run through his veins. But he is not his father.

Vicious, corrupt, dangerous, and a whole host of other things.

But he is not his father.

I stare up into his eyes, trying to read anything in them. But it’s impossible. They’re closed off and dark.

He could just as easily be about to ask me to dance with him as he is about to murder me. Okay, so maybe the former might be a bit of a reach.

“Pet,” he greets with a nod.

“Master,” I tease. My lips twitch into a smirk when I get the smallest flicker of a reaction.

“Great. Shall we?” he asks, gesturing to the open door behind him.

“I’d love to.” I smirk, getting to my feet and making a show of running my fingers through my now dry and freshly cut hair.

I might hate it because of how it happened, but I can’t deny that it feels nice, even without the conditioner my bleached hair usually craves.

He doesn’t move, forcing me to step around him, and go ahead.

Assuming he’s not about to lead me to the stairs and to freedom, I turn toward his torture chamber with plenty of sass in my step.

“Do you want to explain why I found JD with your underwear last night?” he asks as I lower myself to the chair and cross my legs.

If I weren’t already incredibly aware that I’m going commando, then I really am the second that question falls from his lips.