Page 73 of Merciless King

London

Van: Sorry, babe. Caught up at work. Pick you up at eight.

I stared down at my phone and grinned. Van wanted to start moving my stuff to his place tonight and I had no objections. Not one. Excitement rushed through me, like it had been all day, making me giddy.

London: It’s fine. See you when you get here x

I could barely contain myself, like I might burst out of my skin at any moment from happiness. How was it possible for someone to be this happy? I never thought this kind of joy existed, not really, not for me.

I walked into my building, greeting Albert the doorman before I climbed into the elevator. He looked a little flustered but smiled in return.

I was running through a mental list of things I needed to do as the elevator ascended. I needed more boxes for one. It’d be a good chance to get rid of some clutter, though, to go through my clothes and do a drop-off to Goodwill.

My apartment was so different than Van’s, and so was my furniture. I had cushions and rugs and a couple of lamps that were girlie and I totally loved. But Van said I could do whatever I wanted, get rid of his stuff and use mine or keep both. He said he wanted me to make the apartment home for the two of us. Flutters started up in my belly again.

My grin was huge when I walked out of the elevator and started toward my place. I glanced up and stumbled to a stop.

Terrence Ferida stood by my door, and as soon as he saw me and my reaction, he lifted his hands in surrender, backing away several steps. He was shaking and crying.

“Please,” he said. “I know I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to scare you, I just…I need to talk to you. I need to apologize.” He slumped against the wall by my door, lifting his arm to cover his face as wracking sobs shook him harder. “God, I’m a pathetic mess,” he said miserably.

Seeing him was startling. He looked so much like his brother. But this wasn’t Owen. Owen was dead—I’d killed him. Terrence was obviously hurting, and I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him, despite what he’d done.

Still, I slid my hand in my bag, curling my fingers around the pepper spray I carried as I approached cautiously. I stopped a few feet away from him. “What are you doing here, Terrence?”

He lifted his head, dragging his sleeve across his eyes to wipe away the tears. His eyes were red, cheeks puffy. He was smaller than his brother, finer boned, and shorter as well.

“I wanted…no, needed to apologize to you for my part in what happened. For not turning Owen in right away.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s over now. We need to try and put it all behind us.”

He shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, voice wobbling. “I know this is asking a lot, but will you have a coffee with me? Somewhere public,” he added quickly. “I know seeing me must be…unsettling.”

It was a hell of a lot more than unsettling. I wanted him to go away, to pretend he didn’t exist, but the truth was Terrence was a victim of his brother as well, and he was in pain. With the state he was in, I was worried he might actually hurt himself. If I didn’t take a moment to talk to him, and he did something like that…

“Okay,” I said. “There’s a coffee shop just down the street.”

His shoulders drooped and he let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

We took the elevator and headed down the street to the coffee shop a block from my apartment building. Terrence got us drinks and we sat at a table by the window.

He took his mug in both hands and sipped, eyes down, like he couldn’t meet mine when he started talking. “I am so incredibly sorry, London. You have no idea how much. Every time I think about my actions…” He started shaking again like he was trying to contain his emotions. He glanced up at me, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I loved my brother, I did, but there was always…something, something in him. It scared me. He scared me. I’m ashamed to admit this, but that’s the real reason I never told the police I had a brother. He was…violent and growing up I was his favorite toy to kick.” He shuddered. “But you have to believe me, I never thought he was capable of…of what he did. I never thought he’d kill anyone.”

I felt guilty for wanting to get up and walk out of there. I felt bad for Terrence, I did. But I didn’t need his pain on top of my own. I wasn’t the person he needed to be telling these things to.

Since we were already there, I gave him what I thought he needed, what would hopefully help him start to move on with his life. “I’m sorry you went through that,” I said. “I truly am, but I’m trying to put what happened in the past, and I think you should do the same, or at least try to.”

He brightened a little, dragging his sleeve across his eyes again, wiping away his fresh tears. “You forgive me?”

“Yes,” I forced out, shifting in my seat. I really wanted to leave and that would happen a lot quicker if I just told him what he wanted to hear. “Family is complicated. We do things we wouldn’t normally when it involves the people we love.”

He nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I’m so glad we could talk, London.”

For some reason when he said my name, the way he made direct eye contact, holding for a little too long, sent a crawling feeling down my spine.

I stood. “Me, too.”

He stood as well, paid the check, and followed me out, walking beside me as we headed back toward my apartment.