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“You have to!” I practically screamed. Begged. Begged for him to hurt me because we had some control here. The smallest amount...but it was something. It was more than we would get from any punishment.
“Please...” my fingers pressed into his tense, broad shoulders.
He took a deep breath. And then refused.
“I won’t,” he mouthed silently, taking my hand in his as the voice counted back from ten.
“You have to.” My panic clawed at him, using my nails to do it as I broke from his hold.
“Three, two...one.”
Our time was up.
Terror darted around the room. Mine. I begged the red light.
“No. No…Don’t punish us, please. Don’t punish us. You can’t. He was trying to do the right thing by me. Please. I’ll do—”
Mercer’s hand wrapped around my mouth, keeping the guilt inside me as he prevented me from offering my soul to this devil. I tried to peel it off, to break free, but he was too strong. Too determined.
“You failed. And for that, one of you gets a day out today.”
We looked at each other, neither of us expecting that to mean a trip to the beach.
“Feebee, as it was Mercer who failed today’s task, you get to choose,” the voice boomed again. “How good is that heart in your chest? Is it made of gold?”
“It obviously is to you,” I sneered, nostrils flaring with rage.
Mercer handed me a note he wrote while I seethed.
Pick me.
I worried for him. It twinkled in my eyes, all the sadness and pain over potentially ending his life.
He continued handing me notes.
It’s fine. Pick me.
“We don’t know what he’ll do to you.”
He could do worse to you. Do not put yourself forward.
I pushed those torturous thoughts from my head. Ignored the voice that whispered what goes around comes around.
My head moved from side to side. Salty tears stuck my face to Mercer’s naked chest.
My eyes, wide and pink-rimmed, moved from the latest note and stared up at him as I waited for an alternative solution to pop into my head.
It’s okay to put yourself first.
You don’t owe me anything.
Pick me.
“You don’t have to volunteer yourself.” I shook my head as if that made my point stronger. My glossy brown hair caught on my shirt, his smell all over it, all over me. His eyes landed on me, on my chest beating a little wilder over what the fuck was happening here.
He wrote me another message, something to hold on to while I didn’t have his hand.
I’ll be back.
