Page 12 of Merciless

I nodded, absolutely hollow inside. Although this boy near half my age had put me in my place, I was reluctantly happy to know Colton had someone in his corner willing to protect him.

Slipping into a shadowed alcove of the storefront next door, I bided my time.

I was unsure on how long I’d waited, but when I finally clocked him leaving the bar, my gut completely bottomed out. Colton was paralytic drunk, being held up by the stranger I’d met earlier.

My son looked exactly how I felt—a complete and downright mess. He couldn’t stand on his own. Fresh vomit ran down his chin, and he’d obviously lost weight.

Utter sadness consumed me as he was practically dragged along the pavement. “I want to go back, Avery. Take me back,” he slurred, his words barely coherent.

“You’ve been kicked out, moron,” he snapped, continuing to hold up his friend.

As they staggered by, I went to step into the light, to help in any way I could. But I was cut off midway by Avery’s severe glare. And when his eyes met mine, he gave a distinct shake of his head, nonverbally letting me know to stay the fuck away.

I was conflicted. On one hand, I wanted to help Colton, to support him. But based on his erratic state, I knew my presence would only bring him more pain, more turmoil. And with alcohol in the mix, my approaching him would definitely not be a good idea.

So, going against every fucking instinct warring within me, I decided to hover behind, just out of reach, where he wouldn’t know I was there.

Avery did a good job guiding him back—until they reached a local park, and Colton proceeded to projectile vomit over the grass.

It was akin to torture, watching on and not being able to do anything. I was so close to bulldozing in there so many times, but Avery always held me back with a vicious glower or raised palm.

And so, I remained hidden, watching my son fall apart as my heart bled out on the pavement between us.

Once Colton was finished, Avery settled him on a park bench, dropping down beside him. They didn’t seem awkward; if anything, the duo sat in silent companionship.

Avery eventually sighed. “Fuck, Colt. You need help.”

“Fuck you. There’s no one I trust.”

“What about your dad? He’s been trying, bro. I saw all those voicemails he left. Your phone doesn’t ever stop blowing up.”

Damn. Avery was willing to bat for me. A tendril of hope flourished in my chest, which was completely smothered when Colton laughed—legitimately cackled.

“Yeah, and did you listen to any of them? Did you listen to a single one?”

“Course not.”

“Exactly. Then you don’t know shit, Avery. If you heard what I did, you wouldn’t mention that fucking asshole to me ever again.”

My breath caught, honestly uncertain of what he was referring to. I’d poured my everything out in those messages. Vulnerable and real.

“Tell me, then,” Avery said. “Help me understand.”

Colton groaned, as if impatient. “He chose her over me, over his wife. And after all of that, he never left her.”

“Nikita? How do you know?”

I was lost. Nikita and I weren’t together. Yeah, she had forced herself into my orbit, but that didn’t mean I wanted her there.

Colton spat on the ground. “It wasn’t hard to miss. With all his bullshit crying voice messages he sent, you’d think he’d notice what was playing in the background.”

“Geez, Colt.” Avery breathed.

“No matter how much he begged or pleaded over the phone, his voice was always drowned out by her. Whether it be her soft requests, asking him to eat, her off-tune humming or that god-awful singing. Nikita was always there. So, you know what that means right, Avery?”

“What?”

“That William Richards is full of absolute shit.” Boom—and there goes my heart. How can one man be so fucking stupid? All those calls, all those cries for help were for nothing, tarnished and ruined by her presence... that I allowed.