Page 2 of Merciless Intents


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Nothing would give me greater pleasure, I thought.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and texted as she stormed off toward the elevators.

God, I wanted us to get along so bad. My whole life, all I’d ever wanted was a sibling, and my adoptive parents couldn’t have any. I didn’t even know I was adopted until the attack at the church two months ago that killed everyone inside except me. One of the detectives uncovered the information, which led to me moving from Indiana to California with my biological father, Senator Rick Avery.

Harper was his adopted daughter, and while she and I had absolutely nothing in common, I’d truly hoped we might be able to be friends. Sisters.

That had gone to hell as fast as the idea had arrived.

She has it in her head I was afterDaddy’smoney and her inheritance. That literally couldn’t be further from the truth. Once the danger passed and my life was no longer being threatened, I planned to head straight back to Indiana. I was on the fence before, but I was done. I hated this place. I wasnothreat to that girl.

Harper was insecure, and I tried to remember that. I tried to remind myself she was adjusting to the huge change of finding out that I not only survived my biological mother’s murder while pregnant with me, but that I survived even after being kidnapped.

Hell, to be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure she even knew shehada sister before the attack. It was possibly she didn’t know anything at all about me before then. That was something I’d never asked Rick. Hadn’t thought about it. I was too wrapped up with everything else.

Whether or not she knew about me was no longer my focus or concern. After the last few weeks of her snide comments and the last week of her all-out spewing hatred, I was rather done. It was obvious she wanted nothing to do with me, and I wasn’t going to waste my time and effort anymore.

If Harper ever decided she wanted a relationship with me, she could come to me. Hopefully she would understand I tried. And while I would never outright be mean to her, if she picked a fight with me, I refused back down either. My father didn’t raise a pushover.

As I headed to the elevators, I hoped Harper had already gone down. I slowed my steps to give her extra time just to make sure. Relief washed through me when I got there, and she was long gone.

I hoped Harper wouldn’t cause issues with me. More than anything, I needed to remain in the shadows. Truth was, if we were alone, I could fuck with her all day. I could say whatever I wanted. But deep down, I think Harper knew if she wanted to mess with me at school, there wasn’t much I could do about it.

If I engaged her in any way around her friends, it brought more attention on to me. If I got in her wayat all, it brought more attention on to me. And while I was fairly confident no one would figure out who I was just by arguing with Harper, I also couldn’t take that risk.

The campus was relatively quiet compared to what I thought it would be. Then again, it was breakfast time, so most of the kids were probably getting something to eat before class. Eating was not a good idea for me, however.

My nerves were shot. Since the attack, anxiety had really been an issue for me. The nightmares hadn’t let up, and intrusive thoughts throughout the day had become more… well…intrusive. While taking a shower before bed last night, I was washing my hair, and images of my mother and father kept making their way into my thoughts.

Miss Sunbury’s splattered brain matter on the church pew.

The Anderson family huddled together in death.

The blood-soaked carpet in the aisle.

Once it started, I couldn’t stop it, and I’d had an anxiety attack. Full-blown heart racing, panting, shaking, skin-tingling awfulness. I’d quickly flipped the water to as cold as I could stand it, and I sat in the shower, allowing the temperature change to shock me back into reality.

I looked up information for therapy, and I found a psychologist’s office that dealt with trauma specifically. I planned to make a call during lunch today. For the past two months, I’d been trying to figure it out on my own, but I couldn’t anymore. And Harper’s bullshit certainly didn’t make things any better.

After last night, I’d come to the conclusion I couldn’t do it by myself. I needed help.

Making my way into the main school, I walked past the main office and toward the hallways. I needed to locate my locker. The best thing about heading out early while everyone was at breakfast was the ability to wander the halls alone. There were a few students milling about, but no one even looked at me.

It was nice.

Looking at the map printed on the back of my schedule, I followed the directions down the hall, downstairs, and past the history wing. I finally found the lockers where mine should be. Upstairs were the lockers for everyone with last names starting between A-M, and the bottom floor was everyone N-Z.

I heard angry voices just as I turned the corner, but I was too late to stop.

“I warned you,Chad.”

My eyes widened as I realized the voice had come from Damian Wolfe. I stopped in my tracks as he threw the boy, who I assumed was Chad, to the floor.

“Fucking withme?Badidea. You knew the consequences.”

His voice was dark, and it almost rumbled from his chest as he stared down at his victim. He was a lot taller and broader than he’d looked in the photo Detective Abbott had showed me when I was in the hospital.

He was also surrounded by five friends.

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