by Dave Ferraro
Chapter Three: Beg For Mercy
calumny(n.) an attempt to spoil someone else’s reputation by spreading lies
“You’re just in time,” Flynn announced to Paul. “Mercy here was about to take her turn in a friendly game of truth and dare.”
Stunned, I turned from Paul’s warm eyes to what had to be the devilish eyes of Flynn. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around why he seemed to be picking on me tonight.
Catching the anger I expressed with my own eyes, he smiled back at me and said slyly, “You didn’t think your escape would get you off that easy,” Flynn said.
Tongue in cheek, I bit it to choke off the slew of expletives I wanted to spew. Although the verbal barrage would soothe my anger, it would do no more than fuel whatever Flynn was trying to incite in me.
“So what will it be,” he said smoothly: “Truth or Dare?”
Everyone who’s played this game knows that either choice is a trap. If you say truth, you will be asked a completely embarrassing question that can have no good answer. The choice of a dare was no better, as it would set you up to do something equally embarrassing. If I hadn’t wanted to back down from the challenge in Flynn’s eyes, I would have turned to give Maggie a view of my anger.
With an impenetrable stare and equally daring challenge, I said sternly, “Truth.” It was the lesser of the evils.
Flynn narrowed his eyes, as if he hoped I’d answered dare. I waited for his question, wondering what he could possibly ask me that would embarrass me, knowing that had been his plan all along. There could be no other reason. So, focusing in on plausible questions, I couldn’t really think of any. I wasn’t dating anyone and had no crushes in this room except, of course, Paul. The thought made my stomach sink. If he asked me about Paul, even if I lied, the rumor mill would still spread.
A grin erupted on Flynn’s face as if he’d come up with the wickedest question to ask. “Are you a virgin?” he announced.
Astounded, I could have melted into the floor. I should have guessed. This was the worst possible question. I didn’t understand where Flynn’s calumny rooted from. The “Paul” question I could have lied through, and even with speculation, that rumor would die soon. Paul and I could survive scrutiny. But this question had no good answer. I repeat none. I was in a room full of seniors and the most popular ones at that. If I said I was a virgin, I look like a total dweeb, a social misfit, and certainly not worthy of sitting in this room. Name calling would be poignant and brutal. My sexuality would be put into question. I certainly didn’t measure up in the beauty scale with this bunch. I should be out there with the other seniors, dancing with the rhythmic music. I didn’t belong here. I was just an average girl who couldn’t date.
But if I said I wasn’t, well, of course I’d be admitting to being a slut because nothing’s changed when it came to girls and boys. Girls who do are loose and slutty, where as boys who do are studs; so unfair all of it was.
“Well,” I heard a female voice ask in the background. I didn’t turn to look. I didn’t want to see anyone’s face. But I was certain it was Amanda because of the snarky tone and smirk to the question.
My eyes hardened on Flynn. I wanted him to see my total disdain and contempt for him. I should have stood and walked out without answering the question. That would have been the wise choice. It would have been better not to give into him.
Instead, I answered truthfully. “Yes,” and I stood with all the dignity I could muster and this time walked to the door without any further words. Stepping out of the room, I quietly closed the door behind me, even though my temper wanted to slam it. It didn’t matter, I tried to tell myself. I didn’t stop my forward progress and never did I glance back at Maggie on my way out of the room. I was furious. Not really at her, but at me for coming in the first place. And, of course, my resentment was directed at Flynn, the giant ass.
When I heard the door open again behind me, I didn’t turn around. I assumed Paul or Maggie had come after me. I felt the tug on my shoulder from behind, I whirled around ready to spout my anger. Instead of Paul or Maggie standing before me, it was Luke.
“Hey,” he said, looking into my angry eyes. It was as if he could read me. Then he said, “I told Maggie and Paul I’d check on you. I was odd man out anyway with you gone.” Funny, I’d thought I’d been the odd man out as well.
He was so close I could hear him over the blasting music. His blue eyes weren’t cold like Flynn’s. They were warm like the ocean surrounding a tropical island. Warm waves of comfort seemed to pour off of him and into me. I felt the heat of anger course out of me, slowly replaced by calm.
“Thanks,” I said, taking a deep breath. It wasn’t his fault I was here. I wouldn’t take my fury out on him. “I’ll be fine. You can go back to your friends,” I added, half turning.
He kept his eyes steady on me. “You know he was just joking. He’s really not a bad guy,” he said, trying to smooth things over.
I let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, right. He’s got total calumny against me.”
He didn’t answer. But with a serious face, he asked, “You want to dance?”
He was so cute and it was terribly sweet of him to come and check on me, not once, but twice tonight. He didn’t flinch at either of my SAT words, so another point for him. What was the worst that could happen? “Sure,” I said with a smile.
He took my hand and twirled me around, taking the lead. I followed him to the middle of the living room, where the furniture was pushed off to the walls, leaving the space open for a makeshift dance floor. He didn’t stop on the outskirts of the swaying bodies. He pulled me into the throngs of the middle, encapsulated by the activity. We began to dance. I wasn’t self-conscious dancing with him like I thought I might be. We were squished in the middle of everyone. No one was even watching me as drinks were passed to open hands. I wasn’t a bad dancer. In fact, I liked dancing a lot. Maybe it was all the dance classes my mother subjected me to as a child.
Luke took a long pull on what surely was a beer bottle that was handed to him. He then offered it to me. I shook my head no in favor of speaking, because I knew I couldn’t be heard over the head banging music. He shrugged and continued to dance with the bottle in his hands. He wasn’t a bad dancer either. Most guys, if not groping you, stood and just bobbed their heads like they were way too cool.
The music changed several times before I felt sweat begin to form on my back. I used my hands to gesture that I was hot, and pointed in the direction to the right side of us to let him know I was going to take a break. He nodded and began to follow me. His hand met the small of my back, guiding me through the crowd. I didn’t feel uncomfortable from his touch. He hadn’t groped me on the dance floor, so I felt at ease with him. He’d actually been a perfect gentleman. His fingers were light and not pushy, so I barely noticed them there after a few moments.
Once the dancers parted, we walked toward the kitchen to get away from the masses. I was about to pass what surely was Maggie. Although red locks covered her face, which was plastered to Brent, her hair color was too distinctive not to be her. There were other redheads in school, but the others' hair color was much more muted. Not to mention the clothes she wore were the ones I had helped her pick out earlier today at her house.
But what I saw had me stop when I noticed what she was doing. I admit, I gaped. Maggie O’Bannon, the girl I have known forever since we'd both played candy canes in our kindergarten holiday play, was sitting on Brent’s lap and kissing like she was the succubus. But before I was able to move to peel them away from each other, Luke tugged at my hand. He gently dragged me forward through a door that led into the kitchen. As the door closed behind us, I was grateful the music was a bit more muted in here.
It appeared that the truth or dare game had broken up sometime after my departure. I would have expected Maggie or Paul to check on me. But apparently, Brent held Maggie’s interest more tha
n I. Still, I was her best friend and needed to give her a good dose of reality. But Luke hadn’t let go of my hand. His grip was light but secure. I wanted to go back and stop my friend from being stupid with a senior boy who hung out with the likes of Flynn. Before I could speak, Luke turned to the refrigerator and pulled out a green bottle and placed it in my free hand.
I shook my head and said, “I don’t drink.”
He met my gaze before looking down at the bottle. I followed his eyes and saw it was a bottle of Sprite. I looked back up at him as he raised his eyebrows and said, “I know.”
I closed my lips and grinned at him. “Thanks,” I said, wanting to put my foot in my mouth again. He too had a bottle in his hand, but I didn’t ask what it was because my mouth was already full with my foot.
Still holding my hand, he led me out the back door to an expansive deck and I let him. Maggie was a big girl, I reminded myself. We sat in the cool night air, gazing at the stars on the steps from the deck that lead down to the gardens that made up Jay’s backyard. He’d let go of my hand, so I fisted it in my lap, not sure what to do with it now.
When I thought about Maggie again, and debated on whether or not I should go stop her from doing anything reckless, Luke looked at me.
“People in life have to make choices,” he said, surely reading my mind. “And you shouldn’t be ashamed of yours. I think being a virgin is admirable.”
I was stunned into silence for the fourth time tonight, but for far different reasons. My face flushed while I looked at him. He took another long drink from the brown bottle. His words seemed a bit old for his age and way too wise for the company he kept. I didn’t know how to answer, nor did I really want to. I hadn’t even talked about my virginity with Maggie lately, much less with a guy I barely knew before today. But there was something in his eyes that made me want to.
Feeling at ease all of a sudden, I responded in kind. “Purity isn’t always a choice, but rather a lifestyle.” I said half joking. I wanted to say more, to open up about who I was, but I didn’t know him at all. In a weird way, I felt safe with him. But I was sworn to silence and I couldn’t even tell Maggie, my very best friend. Had she known, she wouldn’t have dragged me here tonight, I thought. Funny enough, I needed to unload. Paul had his girlfriend now and we didn’t talk as much between school, homework, his job and now his relationship. So I wondered what I could say without revealing anything that would sound crazy to the average person. He wouldn’t have believed me anyway.
“Still admirable,” he said with the bottle to his lips. After another pull that surely finished the contents inside, he took my hand again and said, “I like you, Mercy.”
I turned to him to see his eyes, and I was surprised by his admission. It felt like déjà vu all over again. His face was leaning in to kiss me. I turned in just enough time for his lips to brush the side of my mouth when a loud crash resounded through the silent air. We were up on our feet, heading back inside the house before either one of us could register the moment.
If you want to read more about what happens next, you can find Beg for Mercy on sale at:
https://www.amazon.com/Beg-Mercy-Cambion-Series-ebook/dp/B005GGMC3G/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1330735566&sr=8-2
To find more about the author, Shannon Dermott, please check out the following links.
Website – www.shannondermott.com
Facebook –https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shannon-Dermott/237824696261512
Twitter - @Shannondermott
Goodreads –https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5121644.Shannon_Dermott
Beg for Mercy
Book Summary
Everyone dreams of that first kiss. Of that magic moment when your lips finally meet those of that special person you’ve waited your whole life for. A little awkward, a little scary, a little hot and every bit amazing. We speculate that the whole world will shake and time will just stop. No one, however, ever imagines that kiss would be lethal.
Sixteen year old Mercy Moore's life got more than just complicated. The kiss that originally could have meant she would finally have a boyfriend, now was the kiss that could have very nearly ended his life. A small detail her mother conveniently never told her will take her life for an abrupt u-turn. Dating, no love, was now completely and utterly impossible.
But life, however cruel, goes on. Far too soon for her taste, Mercy finds herself at a party with the elite students of her school and her best friend. And of all things, playing a stupid game that could very well mean the death of someone in that small room. If it were not for her best friend, the hottest guys in school, and a small need to fit in, she may have been able to escape the disaster that was to come. Her worst nightmare, her personal curse, her very life, only gets dangerously worse.
Sweet Blood of Mine
Jeff Corwin
Chapter One: Sweet Blood of Mine
