Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
He sets his glass down too, then puts up his hands. Like he’s surrendering, but he’s not surrendering. This is just another ploy of his.
I do not like Silas Mercer. Maybe at one time I did. But now? After all these years? And after witnessing his completely fucked-up arrangement with Locke?
I mean… I admit, I like the dark ones. Love the rough sex, love the petulant attitudes, and love the arrogance of them. I do. I like that shit.
Travis is dark. And even though he wanted me dead, we got past that.
And Locke is dark too. His dark ways might be… unorthodox. But that’s Mercer’s fault. If Locke was out in the real world, he’d be a great dark man to fall in lust with.
But Silas Mercer is like… not human. There’s something really wrong with him and I am so done with this man.
One last trial and I’m out. My debt to society paid. I’m gone. I will never have to see him again. This one might last as long as six weeks. Apparently, I’m their champion lab rat. So. Who knows. Maybe it’ll just last forever?
I should not even joke.
Not after what happened to Locke.
Mercer gets up from the couch, walks to the center of his living room, and shoves his hands into his pants pockets as he studies a small waterfall through a glass window.
This is the first time I’ve ever been in his house. We’re not friends. I’ve been on the island… well, too many years as far as I’m concerned. But in all that time, Mercer and I have never so much as had a cup of coffee together.
And now I’m sitting in his living room.
And we’re alone.
Gross.
Locke is definitely his better half. I consider Locke a friend.
Hell, I like Travis more than I like Mercer and Travis is the whole fucking reason I’m here.
Suddenly, Mercer’s voice breaks the uncomfortable silence. “I would like to confess something to you, Nova.”
I just hold my breath and think… what the fuck now?
He turns around when I don’t say anything and directs his hard, cold, calculating, inhuman gaze right at me. “But I don’t know if I can trust you.”
I actually guffaw. It’s loud, and long, and lingers down into an incredulous chuckle. “You don’t know if you can trust me.” I’m pointing to him and me as I say these words. “That’s rich, Mercer.” I’m still laughing a little. “Coming from you, I mean. You are the king of lies and you are having trouble trusting me?”
His face morphs into a serious look of confusion. “What have I lied to you about?”
“This whole place is a lie, Mercer.”
“And?” He shrugs. Actually shrugs. “What does that have to do with me?”
“You run it.”
Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Come on, Nova. Please. After all these years, surely you don’t actually believe that? Did you have trouble crashing out last time? Is the drug lingering in your system?”
“What?” That’s always been a fear of mine. After Locke, how can it not be?
Calm down, Nova. He’s playing with you. Just play back. He likes that. He likes to rile you up and put you off your guard and spin your world around until you no longer understand which side is up.
“You know I’m not running this place.”
Do I know that?
Another ploy, Nova. Don’t fall for it.
OK. I need to pay attention here. He’s got me in his house for a reason. Now he’s hinting that he needs to tell me a secret. Whatever he’s after, he’s going to get it. So I should just listen to my internal monologue and play along so he can get his way and I can go home.
Home.
I close my eyes and take deep breaths. Because I don’t care how long I live in that cottage, it will never be home. In fact, I don’t actually believe that I’m going to be leaving this place. Like… ever. I think they’re just gonna keep me here. Hold me prisoner forever.
I open my eyes and stand up. “OK, Mercer. You need to know you can trust me, how can I help you with that?”
“Marry me.”
My mind gets so twisted up with these words, I can’t even manage a guffaw. I simply stand there, slack-jawed.
“I mean it. I need some kind of reassurance. You’re the reason they’re holding me here. And a wife cannot be compelled to testify against her husband.”
My brain starts to work again. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He extends a hand towards me. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re a fucking psycho. Marry you? Is that what you just said? Did I actually hear that correctly?”
“Come with me, Nova. I’ll tell you half of the story on the boat. And if, by the time we get across the lake to the village marina, you decide that this is not something you’re interested in, I’ll bring you right back.” He pauses for a moment. Then he adds, “Or not. I’ll leave you there. I’ll give you some cash… some… some contacts, or whatever. And you can go.”