Page 12 of Mercy & Malice

6

BROOKE

SIX MONTHS AGO

I cringe as Micah lands another blow. Can it just be over already? He’s definitely bleeding, which is what was required for him to accept the dare from Mercy. It’s just the second one, and I’m already having huge doubts about being on Remy’s team. At least I’m not an official invitee, so I don’t have to fight here and bleed.

Either way, I don’t think I’m going to be able to play the game. But I have to. It’s our only way out and away from my dad.

Micah throws a right hook that lands hard, sending his opponent to the grimy pavement. I’ve seen him fight so many times here. The old, abandoned school gym is a weekly ritual for Belgrave students who want to fight at the Tomb to win some money. Micah does it just for fun. But this fight is different. This is about Mercy. The stakes are higher and will only grow with each round. Who else will die? There’s already been one casualty, and she was an innocent bystander who wasn’t even partaking in the game.

Finally, the guy doesn’t get up. So, by the only rule at the Tomb—last one standing wins—Micah is declared the winner. As he approaches us, Remy wastes no time hyping him up. “That was epic, man.”

“Yeah, great job beating the shit out of someone,” I mutter.

Micah goes to hug me before I jump away from him. “Don’t get blood on me. It’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, dude. She’s my teammate, not yours.” Remy chimes in as he throws his arm over my shoulder.

Shoving him away, I roll my eyes then cross my arms, hoping no one will notice my trembling hands. But I can’t seem to stop. “I don’t think I can play. This is already violent beyond belief, and a lady is already dead. What if someone else gets killed?”

Remy declares, “I’ll protect you.”

I don’t doubt he means it, even if he is the comedic relief out of the group. We don’t know everything about Mercy, but what we do know is no one can control the outcome of the dares.

“I’m just not sure it’s worth it.” I believe it would be if there was a guarantee of winning and no more loss of life. But even then, what will we have to sacrifice to reach the final round?

Micah rubs a towel over his chest, wiping blood off before he cleans his hands. “It is. You can be on my team if it makes you feel safer.”

“Not at all. I’d rather be on Remy’s team.” Nothing about Micah Montclair is safe, and I fear he’ll cloud my judgment. Or worse, he’ll be so focused on winning, he won’t care about the cost. He and his brother already have some side beef with trying to beat each other, so Mercy isn’t going to help that rivalry at all.

“Suit yourself, but don’t come crying to me when I’m the champion and you’re on the losing team,” Micah states, which leads to Remy shit-talking even more until Cain steps next to me.

I already know the answer but ask anyway, “Did Luca show?”

“Nope. I don’t think he’s going to play. The accident has him all fucked up.” Cain appears just as worried as I am. No one can just back out once an invitation is sent. We all know that much. And Luca accepted.

“I can imagine.” The car accident he caused killed a lady. I don’t think I’d be able to go through with the game either.

“Let’s hang out,” Micah suggests.

“I have to head home. I told my dad I’d be home from ‘studying’ before he got off of work.”

Remy laughs. “He knows where you are. He’s not that stupid. Everyone knows about the infamous fights at the Tomb.”

The thought sends a pang of panic through me. Does he know? No, no way. He’d never allow me to be here. He didn’t attend Belgrave and doesn’t ever come to school events or any staff events that Mom has. But the “secret” fights do have a lot of chatter around them. He could find out.

“See y’all later.” I take off mid-sentence and hurry to my car.

My entire drive home I’m considering how likely it is and who he would come in contact with that could possibly know about Belgrave’s underground matches.

By the time I get there, my fingers are sealed to the steering wheel. Once I don’t see my dad’s cruiser in the driveway, I unlatch my aching hands and dash inside. If he’s not home, I don’t have to answer why I’m out past library operating hours while I was supposed to be working on extra credit summer reading projects.

Mom is definitely asleep as I enter the pitch-black kitchen. Flipping on the kitchen light, I pour myself a cup of milk and grab the pack of chocolate chip cookies, then sit at the breakfast table to actually work on the assignment.

About ten minutes pass before Dad walks in. “Why are you still up?”

His extra job was supposed to go until 4:00 a.m., so he is home early, but thankfully I made it back first. “Just getting a little more of my report done before I go to bed and getting a late-night snack.”