THE DEVILS MERCY

'S

-

oo hard the secon

it the mat hard, cursing through clenched teeth. My palms sting fro

iss, trying

focus on. Something to control. And after seventeen days locked in this p

y, my body ha

to s

id

oom spins, and I nearly hit the fl

minic mutte

rse it

weigh nothing and supports me before I can protest. My in

. Too

ding me toward the nearby bench. He doesn't speak. Doesn

it's n

gen

know how to

go," I

'll

n't c

stupider th

eth. "I don'

bench, his hand briefly brushing the ba

hate that my body reacts. H

e h

ot trying to seduce you," he murm

his head. "You think

you keep watching me

m. But most of all, I want to not feel the way I do

ting the ankle. His fingers brush over the swe

roken. But if you'd kept pu

ndle pain

e-sharp and unreadable. "But no

e someone who's neve

r a moment, I see somet

everything,"

hes between us

kit. The movements are practiced, almost too careful,

hes, he doesn

s resting on my leg. Not possessively-

d your help,

u d

I don't

s your trau

bl

n I expect. Cuts some

u know abou

ou into someone who can't tell the di

m. Want to spit in his

d, I g

thumb brushing small, thought

to people help

used to w

start

him. Rea

that doesn't show in his perfect clothes or practiced sm

t someon

ot a q

ds, b

ho

like you. But... not d

appened

ches. His ey

the wrong peo

f his guilt like a

's why I'm still here. He's trying t

m to you?" I ask.

"You're the warni

but I stop him wi

ta

his shoulder,

f when I add, "J

ts beside me on the benc

n't s

ust

s time. Less like a void.

waking up in that alley, I

sa

wh

not