AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What did you do, Mercer?” My voice comes out in a choked whisper.
“I killed him, just like I killed the man who died the nightwe met. How I plan to kill fucking Henderson.” His eyes narrow, lips pull tight. “With poison.”
I have no idea how to even respond to that, so I wait until we’re back in his triplex before I speak again.
Not out of shock. Because I am. Completely.
Not out of fear or confusion, they’re both there, too.
But it’s more out of fear for him and confusion about why he’d take out Mr.— take out Trenton. I know I should be horrified, and maybe a small part is. I mean, he kills people. To make money.
It’s worse than that, though. He kills people to make money he doesn’t need. Which means he does it for what? Fun? Justice? The freaking American Way?
And I’m ashamed for even thinking it because it really confirms the head case I’ve become since wandering into his trap that night outside Seven7Seven, but it also thrills me a bit. This is the twisted part, though. It also doesn’t change the feelings I have for him. Those keep growing by leaps and bounds. It doesn’t change the want or the lust or desire.
Mercer killed someone because that person hurt me. He killed Trenton for me.
Because…why? Was it more than just the thrill of murdering someone? Or something else…something deeper?
“Mercer?”
“You haven’t run?” He lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Interesting.”
I narrow my eyes and stalk toward where he stands at the foot of the stairs leading to our bedrooms. “You have my sister, remember?”
“Fuck you, Pollyanna.”
He turns to walk up the stairs. But I can’t let this go. There are too many questions looping through my mind. “What poisons?”
“Designer. I create them and many are untraceable. The one I’m planning on using has blue octopus neurotoxin. Haven’t used it yet, so I’m eager to see how it goes.”
Chemistry. He’s talking chemistry. And he’s a genius. He has to be. I nod. “Yes, it paralyzes the victim first and?—”
“I know what it does.”
He stalks into his room and strips off his tie and jacket. Then he slides something out of his pants pocket, a tiny vial, and opens a small lockbox on his desk. I’ve never seen it before, so he must have gotten it out earlier before we left. He puts the thin, flat vial in there and closes the lid.
“All those neatly labeled cubes in your desk drawer. They’re numbered, but not in order.” I start pacing. “Not a chemical compound number, but a code you made up?”
“Are you Sherlock fucking Holmes now? Why are you in here? I told you I killed your asshole rapist. And I like killing people. Shouldn’t you be running?”
“No.”
“I’m not hurting your sister. She’ll finish the treatment and I’ll foot the bill?—”
“A code?”
He sighs. “A fucking code.”
“Mercer…I…” But the words die on the tip of my tongue.
I love him. Once and now and always. And I’m not sure what to do with it so I don’t do a thing. “I’m impressed.”
“Fuck. A fangirl.” Then he gives me a hard look. “Going through my things?”
“You keep leaving me alone.” I shrug. “I get bored.”
“Poisons, guns, knives. I use what I need to.”
