Page 33 of Your Heart Still Beats for Me

He was weary now. I watched him as I chewed, his orange fur standing on edge. Watched as he cautiously moved through the long grass at the water’s edge. Pastry crunched between my teeth as I stared in disbelief at the small fox accepting food from my captor. A feast of fruit laid out before the creature on a round silver plate, similar to mine.

My jaw dropped, seeing Mercer lying opposite the creature, their noses close as they greeted each other. I had to be quick to catch the mouthful of food that almost fell from my mouth.

He really had a fox…like his drawing, just less menacing. And he loved the furry creature. Showed compassion to it. And it reminded me of the man I thought he was and proved he wasn’t all bad.

There was good in him...in the evil man who wished me dead. This fox saw it. Felt it.

I saw it…felt it. And believed it was a lie.

It was buried deep, but it was there.

It made me feel...like I could accept all the things I felt that weren’t anger and upset.

Maybe this was the lie?

Maybe he didn’t want my heart to stop. Maybe he was just shielding his own.

I knew enough to know that the only truly evil things people had buried were the secrets they kept and the bodies of the innocents they had hurt.

Mercer was hiding so much more than that. He was hiding emotions.

He looked up to my room, the bright light almost making it easy to spot me as I leaned out of view.

I tried to glance around my curtain—the velvet material and royal shade of fuchsia making it impossible to see through—but I couldn’t do that without him seeing me.

I counted to ten, taking in a fork loaded with mashed potatoes to my mouth between each number. Then I looked back to the window, praying his attention was back on the animal, and it was as he patiently waited for the fox to finish its meal.

I ate, watching him give attention and love to the playful animal. Pushing more food onto my fork, I looked back to find a lonely fox staring up at me. Mercer and the food were no longer there, and I found myself wondering, were they ever? Was hunger bringing out hallucinations?

I wanted to believe there was good in him, but with him out of sight, I took the last bite and questioned the truth...because only when Trix had returned had I been fed.

Chapter 16

Mercer

Idid something stupid last night. The camera in her room showed me she was asleep, and the exhaustion on her drained features told me she would be for a while.

I avoided the creaky floorboards, knowing exactly where they were, as I moved across the hallway in nothing but boxer shorts. If Nonna had caught me, I would have been castrated right then and there.

There would be no excuses as to why I would be sneaking into the room of the girl I had kidnapped, especially with my hard cock, jutting out, making me look guilty before I could defend myself with lots of flapping arms and head shakes.

I didn’t carry my keyboard or Post-its. The only thing in my hand was the cock I couldn’t stop stroking through the thin material of my shorts.

I opened the door to Feebee’s room, quietly creeping in. The dent in the wall and all its flaked-off paint greeted me as I closed the door. The lights were on, so bright, I felt like I was under a police spotlight, and the reality was, I should be for the things I was doing to this woman...

But she did something to me every time I saw her...

And it got harder to ignore each time.

I had only caught a glance of her behind the curtain, peeping down at me with something other than hate and anger in her stare...

But that was enough.

I had to leave my little pet behind. I had to be alone. I wanted to come over her image. But I couldn’t because it wasn’t enough. I needed to see her again. I had to see her.

And as I stood there, hours later, right in front of her, watching as she rested in her chair, hair grazing her delicate shoulder as her head lolled to the side. A shirt, open slightly, keeping so much of her body from my view. All I could see were long legs. I dropped, my knees crashing into the carpet, desperate for a closer look. I touched her toes. The pink paint on her nails growing out didn’t turn me off.

She couldn’t feel me touching her here, and I didn’t feel like I was assaulting her because, well, I was caressing a fucking foot, for fuck’s sake.

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