Page 8 of Merciless

His time here is quickly running out, all I need to do is figure out a way to ensure it doesn’t come back and bite me, or my husband, in the ass, and I’ll pull that fucking trigger myself.

Each minute that passes as I sit here with my arms wrapped around my middle feels like an hour.Every time the purple of my Panthers jersey catches my eye, I cringe at what I did tonight. The lies I told in order to protect the man I love, to get the justice I deserve.

I’ve lost all track of time, and with nothing else to do but wait, I relax and stare up at the ceiling, trying to focus on better times, instead of my tragic reality.

Eventually, though, the temptation to come and play with his new pet gets the better of Reid. The heavy lock on my door disengages, making me jump and shift into the corner as if I’m scared of him. I might try and put on a good show, but he’s Reid Harris, anyone in their right mind would be a little hesitant about being the object of his attention.

I manage to pull my legs up to my chest before he throws the door open and his large, toned, and deadly body steps into the doorway.

He’s not even in the room, but already, the space feels smaller.

He glares at me. Silently trying to intimidate me. But he’s going to need to try harder than that.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away for long,” I taunt, my words and the strength behind them at odds with my body language.

But he doesn’t bite. Not yet at least.

2

REID

I sit back on the couch and lift the glass to my lips, savoring the smoothness of the whiskey with my eyes locked on the screen.

I want to say that I’m watching her every move, discovering her weaknesses, figuring out what the easiest way to break her is going to be.

But seeing as all she’s doing is lying on the cot staring up at the ceiling, that would be a lie.

Instead, I’m just staring at her. Wondering what she’s thinking, if she’s regretting everything she’s done that’s led her to this point. Or… is she silently celebrating.

What she did was fucking stupid. The lies she told so easily proven false.

Was it all a game to land her in here? To put her in front of me in a way she never has been before?

I know who she is.

Every motherfucker in Harrow Creek knows who she is.

Her father is one of my father’s most trusted men.

And her husband…

My grip on the glass in my hand tightens as I think about the smug fucking cunt that is her husband.

The whole thing is fucked up in a way no one has been able to figure out. But then I guess most relationships are like that.

What I know of the two of them all leads me down the same path… it’s a game.

Alana Murray is playing a fucking game.

It’s what she does. Entitled, little Harrow Creek princess trying to wrap the big bad gangsters around her little finger.

Well, if she thinks that shit is happening under my roof then she’s got another thing coming.

I’ve no idea what wicked schemes are floating around in her head; she’s welcome to imagine whatever outcome she likes.

But there will only be one ending. And it won’t be her still standing at the end.

She’s chosen the wrong man to go up against this time.