Heartless: Merciless Book 2

by Winters, W.

  “I’ll call you back,” Jase finally speaks, although it’s still not to me. My muscles get rigid and my teeth clench together. If he thinks he’s taking me inside… I swallow thickly at the thought. What am I really going to do? I can at least kick him. One good hard kick, maybe in the shin. I nod my head faintly at the idea, keeping my eyes on a few leaves that have turned a beautiful shade of auburn as they sway in the gentle wind. If he puts a hand on me to force me back inside, I swear I’m going to kick his ass.

  A soft grin tugs at my lips. It’s nice to feel like a tough girl at least. And like I have a choice.

  “You picked a good day,” Jase says, and I lift my gaze to see him slipping the phone into his pocket before he climbs the first few steps to sit by me but on a stair lower than mine.

  I’m quiet for a moment, gauging how he looks so comfortable and acts like this is normal. Just like he did in the kitchen.

  “It is nice.” I nip at my lower lip before adding, “I used to have a balcony off of my bedroom. I liked sitting out there.”

  He glances back at me for a moment but ends it with a short, almost sad smile and then he leans back, bracing his forearms on the step behind him.

  I guess my guard has decided to pretend to be my friend and just sit by me.

  “Who designed this place?” I ask him, wanting a distraction and to think of anything but last night.

  I woke up alone and that’s exactly how I’ve felt all day. Miserable and alone.

  I could sit peacefully in silence on my own, but Jase interrupted that. If he’s going to babysit me, then he’s going to have to talk to me. A punishment for a punishment. I smile at the snide remark in my head and think about raking up all the good lines I’ve had since I walked out here. I guess I’m in a bitchy mood. Good luck to my adversaries.

  “We did,” he answers with a smirk that doesn’t hide his pride.

  “No, you didn’t.” I don’t even hesitate to call him out on his bullshit.

  “Why would you think we didn’t?” he asks me, a quizzical look on his face.

  “You’re telling me that you chose lilacs and peonies for the front yard?” I question him, challenging him to tell me that any of the Cross brothers wanted those plants.

  Jase’s expression turns guarded and he clears his throat as he looks toward the very bushes that give me my argument.

  “Our mother wanted lilacs and peonies.” His admission is spoken simply, flatly. “She asked for them for Mother’s Day, but she died just before,” he tells me, and his voice dims toward the end.

  “I’m sorry,” I say and keep my tone gentle. “I didn’t mean-”

  “It’s fine,” he says and waves me off. “I get what you mean, but yeah, we designed it. A few years back.” A gust of wind blows by, sweeping some of my hair in front of my face and some behind my back, leaving a chill in its wake and reminding me that it is, in fact, fall.

  “Well, it’s beautiful,” I tell him genuinely. I ignore the chill in the air and wrap my arms around myself. Goosebumps threaten, but I’m not ready to go back inside and the sun feels warm. I could lie in the sun all day, but it looks like I barely have an hour before the trees on the edge of the estate will hide it from me.

  “You aren’t planning on running, right?” Jase asks me and turns around to look at me with a stern look on his face. “I’d like to keep my balls, and I’m sure Carter would take them if I let you leave.”

  Laughter erupts from me just because of how serious he looks. His expression changes to one of humor and I find myself surprised by him yet again. Shaking my head, my hair tickling my shoulders I tell him, “Daniel told me it’s useless with the guards.” I shrug as if it’s all a joke.

  That’s what my captivity is apparently, a fucking joke. Yet, there’s only a modest pang of despair from that thought.

  Jase huffs and looks over to the right side of the yard. And the way he does it makes me think Daniel’s lying. Like Jase is hiding something from me.

  “There are guards?” I question him. “Aren’t there?”

  He looks me up and down for a moment like he’s considering telling me something.

  “Yeah,” he nods and tells me, “we have a few posted along the fences.”

  I acknowledge what he said with a small nod, but don’t respond. Instead, I think about taking a walk to clear my head, but I’m sure Jase would follow me like a lost puppy and I wouldn’t be able to think anyway.

  “We told them to just taze the pretty brunettes, though.”

  I give Jase’s joke a small laugh and lean forward to run my hand down my legs before considering if he was being truthful. “You’re joking?” I ask him, and he shrugs like an asshole with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “You’re in a good mood today,” I mutter sarcastically.

  “Right back atcha.”

  Time passes easily for a moment, but much to my dismay the clouds come in and capture the sun before I’m ready for the warmth to leave me.

  “You want a blanket?” Jase asks me, and I glance at him, watching as he stands up, stretching his back and wincing as he holds his ass. “You might want to bring a chair out too if you’re staying longer,” he tells me, and I can’t help but smile.

  “I may go in; I don’t know,” I tell him and that’s when my dumb heart reminds me that I’ll have to see Carter and that he’s being weird and distant… and stupid and guarded and a fucking dick. My throat goes dry and I let out a distressed breath. I can’t look at Jase when I do. I know he saw, though.

  “You know he has it bad for you, right?” he asks me and that dryness in my throat travels higher, making me feel like I’ll choke if I speak, so I don’t.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Jase tells me, and I whip my eyes to his, craning my neck since he’s standing up now.

  “Me?” I ask him incredulously. “First of all, I don’t hurt people. Secondly, he won’t let me close enough to even think of hurting him. Whatever we have is very one-sided and,” I try to keep going, but my words crack, and I hate it. I hate that I’m emotional over this. I hate that I’m close to admitting how much I feel for him and that whatever he feels for me isn’t even close to being the same. I get why Beauty fell in love with the Beast, but it doesn’t change who Carter is. There’s no magical rose or kiss that will turn him into a prince. All Carter will ever be is a beast.

  That ragged breathing comes back, and I stand up, ready to make a cup of tea and go hide in the den, or maybe the new room, the white room, the pretty room with the replicas of what I used to be in it. Whatever the hell that gilded room is. My hideaway room.

  “Hey, hey,” Jase’s voice is comforting, and he takes a step closer to me, but doesn’t touch me as he says, “He’s had a hard time.”

  “Yeah, well, so have I.” I bite out the words and surprisingly keep the bitterness in my voice to a minimum.

  “He’s had a decade of hard times, of people he loved dying, his only friend and brother leaving him, and then other fucked up shit. It was a never-ending cycle until he became the person he is now.”

  I glance up at Jase, but only for a second because I don’t want to cry. He looks sympathetic at least, and genuine, but right now I need to know something will change. I don’t need excuses; they’re never good for anything.

  “What are you doing out here?” Carter’s sharp voice makes me jump and I nearly fall backward on the stairs but catch myself. My heart pounds and for the first time, I feel real fear since coming outside.

  “Are you crying?” Carter asks me with disbelief and then turns to Jase with a look that could kill.

  “She was just talking about you, actually,” Jase answers Carter slowly, and the two stare at each other for a long, hard moment.

  “I wanted some fresh air for a minute,” I say to break up their moment, not holding back my anger as I continue. “I got lucky enough that my cage door was open.” With those parting words, I step past both of them, brushing against Carter as I do and hating that I b
reathe in his scent, feel his warmth, and love them both.

  I need a cup of tea, a good book if I can find one in my new room, my hideaway room, and some time to ignore the world.

  But Carter doesn’t give me that. I make it two steps inside the door before he snatches my elbow. I rip my arm away and he looks at me like he doesn’t understand. Like I’m the one who’s acting out of the ordinary.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks me, concern lacing the demand to answer him.

  “Are you fucking serious?” I don’t contain my outrage even though I should have. Carter’s eyes narrow and darken, but I don’t let it stop me. My heart races and it hurts harder with each thump.

  “You’re being an asshole. An even bigger one than usual.”

  “Be gentle,” I hear Jase say quietly as he shuts the front door, hiding the last bit of light from the day and leaving us with the sound of his trailing footsteps. Part of me wonders if he’s talking to me or to Carter.

  “I’m sorry,” Carter says through clenched teeth, almost like those words weren’t meant to come from him in this moment. He shifts his weight from his left to his right and looks down at me with a look that elicits both fear and that dark desire I can’t deny.

  A rumble of low irritation settles in his chest as he tells me, “Mind the way you speak to me.”

  “You should do the same,” I bite back without thinking. But it’s true. His eyes flash with anger, but he doesn’t speak. His jaw is held firm and I bet if he were to clench his teeth any tighter, they’d break. “You treat me like a child,” I tell him and then swallow thickly, feeling the knotted ball grow tighter in my throat. “You don’t want me near you, you don’t talk to me. And last night…” I can’t finish because again I feel like I’m going to cry, and I swear I’m not going to. Not here.

  He doesn’t let me love him. But it’s because I’m his whore. I already know that’s the answer. It’s why he didn’t kiss me for as long as he did. I’m meant to be his whore and nothing more.

  A moment passes where I’m just breathing. Staring into the eyes of a man who can make me feel so much, but right now it all hurts. I want him to hold me and let me hold him back. I want to slap him and tell him he’s an asshole and that I hate him. I want him to tell me that he loves me, and he doesn’t think of me like I think he does.

  In a matter of seconds, I go through a fantasy where everything will be okay.

  “Give me your hand,” Carter commands me. I jut out my chin, hellbent on telling him to fuck off, but he has a pull over me. The depth of pain in the hollows of his dark eyes makes me bend to his will. Slowly, I bring my hand up for him to take it. Even if I am just his whore, obeying his command.

  I watch as he presses my hand to his phone, flattening it and then turns his back on me, walking to a panel by the front door.

  I can feel my eyebrows pinch together.

  Carter already said he’s sorry once. I doubt he’ll say it again. At this point, I don’t even know what I want him to say. His words aren’t the problem, it’s his actions.

  “If you’re going back outside, grab a coat.” His words are stern but there’s a trace of melancholy there. Press your hand here, he demonstrates. He gave me access. My heart flickers to life, and I hate that it does. It’s the things like this that make me question what I am to him.

  “I wasn’t going back out tonight,” I tell him weakly. Wanting more from him, but not knowing how much to push him. My eyes dart from his to the door. Carter’s a hard man and maybe he’s had a hard life, but I need more than what he gave me last night and today.

  I don’t know if I’m in a position to ask for it, to demand it, or if Carter is even capable of giving me more than this. And if he goes through with his plans, all of this is for naught.

  “Well, whenever you do,” Carter tells me but when my eyes reach his, he moves his attention back to his phone.

  I glance down at what he’s doing only to find him exit whatever it was and that’s when I see today’s date.

  And that’s when this little truce no longer matters.

  Nothing matters.

  Chapter 16

  Carter

  The more I give her, the less I have her.

  The moment I let her have access to outside, she stormed away from me. Not with the anger I expected given her outburst, but with a heartache that’s inexplicable.

  The color drained from her face and she ran from me. Literally ran away from me and straight to the white room. She ignored me when I called out to her and tried to muffle her cries.

  Everything shattered in front of me. There was no sign, no warning.

  It’s my fault; she wasn’t ready. I can’t push her to move faster when the final deed has yet to be done.

  That’s the only thing I can think of that would make her run from me like she did.

  Her door is locked, a feature I considered excluding, but I know I could knock it down if I needed to.

  I haven’t moved my eyes from the monitor on my phone but watching her cry hysterically on the floor was brutal. It was fucking torture.

  It’s been nearly an hour since she’s stopped, but she hasn’t moved from the floor. Sitting cross-legged and picking at her nails, she’s just sitting there, rocking on and off, humming and crying. The only saving grace I have is that my necklace is still around her neck. She hasn’t taken it off since I put it on her.

  I told you to be gentle, Jase’s text message interrupts the feed and I click over to it. He’s the only reason I haven’t lost my shit. Although I’m on the verge of ripping the door off the hinges of that room and demanding she tell me what set her off.

  I fucking was. I quickly text him my reply and then add, How much time has to pass before I can go in there?

  You can’t. He answers immediately and even though a part of me knows he’s right, a bigger part of me knows she needs me. She needs someone, and I want to be that someone.

  What if we side with Talvery? Over Romano? I’m grasping at straws just to keep her.

  It will be a sign of weakness. Jase’s response is swift, and the next question is quick to come to my mind. I know no one will understand or respect why I’d allow Talvery to live. Not unless it’s clear why. And undeniable.

  What if I married her? I type the words, but I can’t send them. The thought of her as mine truly, in every way, sends a thread of hope passing before my reach. So close, and so delicate, just like the necklace around her neck. And I think maybe she’d do it. She’d agree if I agreed to spare her family.

  But being a wife to a monster only makes her vulnerable. The hope dies as quickly as the flame of a fire only meant to have an ember.

  She’s not feared, not respected. My enemies would kill her the first chance they got, just to hurt me. I know they would. Just as they tried to take Addison from Daniel.

  Jase sends me another text. She needs to tell you what happened.

  He’s right. I need something to fix. Some way to control what went wrong.

  If it’s her family, you’re fucked. Jase texts me again before I can text him back and I almost fling the phone at the wall when it shows on my screen. Instead, I flick to her monitor, but she’s not there.

  She’s gone.

  Just as I abruptly stand up, ready to hunt her down wherever she’s gone off to, I hear her walking down the hall and slowly she comes into view.

  Adrenaline spikes through me and I try to stay still. Because if I move, she might change her mind. She might go back to that fucking room, but I can’t let her. I swear to God, I can’t let her.

  She enters the bedroom with bloodshot eyes, the hair on the side of her face damp from her tears and her face reddened. Fuck, I’ve never felt pain like this. Even in the cell, she didn’t cry like this. She’s never cried like this.

  It’s as if she’s mourning.

  I can barely breathe, but I swallow the pain down as she steps into the room, refusing to look at me and then glancing at the bathroom.

&nb
sp; “There’s no bathroom in the other room. The hideaway room,” she says, and her words are roughly spoken, but she doesn’t cry.

  “Come here.” The command is soft, an attempt to comfort her. I know she likes being held and I can do that.

  I can hold her better than anyone else can.

  She walks numbly and when I wrap my arms around her, she doesn’t react. She doesn’t hold me or lean in. She doesn’t stiffen either. She’s just there. Her entire body feels frozen under my touch and I instantly pick her up, cradling her in my arms to put her into bed, to force her to rest and lie down with me. Everything will be all right in the morning.

  But the second I take a step toward the bed, Aria jolts and slams her palms into my chest, kicking at the same time and deliberately falling out of my arms and crashing onto the floor.

  “Fuck,” I grunt out and reach down to help her up, but she scampers backward, crawling away from me before standing up again and facing me like a caged animal intent on running.

  A thousand shards slice into every bit of me. Into my numb skin, making their way inside my blood and up my throat.

  “Aria, tell me what’s wrong,” I demand but she only shakes her head, pushing her hair away and then rubbing her hand against her tearstained cheek.

  “You already know what’s wrong,” she says woefully, and I know I’ve failed her.

  “You’ll forgive me,” I speak lowly, my hands clenching into fists.

  Her eyes reach mine and they gloss over as she whimpers, “I know.” She sniffles once and turns to go to the bathroom, but I can’t let her.

  “Tell me something,” I say, raising my voice but she stops and then slowly turns. “Ask me anything,” I add.

  A moment passes where she only sways in the knee-length sleepshirt she’s changed into. She almost says something twice, but in the end, she only shakes her head.

  Finally, she asks me something I hate, but I know I deserve.