Page 20 of Merciless

Just because I have schizoaffective disorder doesn’t mean I don’t know my limits. Being off my meds doesn’t mean he has to coddle me like I’m a child.

I have a job to do, and I plan to get it done so I can go where I feel like I can finally fucking breathe.

CHAPTER 9

ASHER

NIGHT 1 OF THE BET

Crickets chirp, filling the nighttime silence as I watch the Walker brothers’ mansion for any signs of life. The lights are on, but from my position across the street, it’s difficult to tell if they’re inside or outside. My hope is they’re inside, drinking themselves into oblivion so I’m not interrupted while sending a message to them.

I grab the binoculars I shoved into the duffel bag and peer through them.

Rolling my sucker to the other side of my mouth, I check every lit window. There are no blinds or drapes to stop anyone with bad intentions from looking in.

Hi. I’m bad intentions.

I’ve been hanging out in the woods across from their home for hours, biding my time for the right moment to get in and get the fuck out. They spent most of the time outside until now. I have better things to do, such as creeping into Eden’s dorm and curling up behind her for a snuggle.

I did say I’d be her monster, and I’ve been holding back on her.

I pause at a window when someone walks past it. A flash of dirty-blond hair tells me the coast is clear.

Dropping the binoculars, I crush my sucker with my teeth and toss the stick onto the ground. I crouch beside the duffel bag, unzip it, and pull out the mask to shove over my head. I adjust the holes so I can see what I’m doing, then grab the brass knuckles. Slipping the weapon into my pocket, I creep out of the woods and make my way to Brennon’s car in the circle drive on the side of the mansion.

I lift the Porsche’s hood and find the nitrous-line intake above the motor. I tilt my head to get a better look in the dark as I disconnect the line. Lowering the hood, I settle it into place without making a sound. The gas cap catches my eye as I’m about to walk away.

How big of a message does Elijah want me to send?

If I really wanted to, I could add something to the gas tank to make a little boom when Brennon starts the car.

I shake the idea out of my head and turn to leave. A fist slams into my face and knocks me to the ground. I land on my back, and the air knocks loose from my lungs. I wheeze and roll onto my side.

It fucking burns.

Brennon shakes out his hand and crouches beside me. His ice-blue eyes narrow, and he grins. “You thought you could fuck around with my car?”

Austin stops beside his brother, his gaze sliding to me. He frowns. “Who is he?”

Brennon rips my mask off and sucks his teeth. “Elijah or Asher Astar.”

I bare my bloody teeth at him.

“What’d he do?” Austin says.

Brennon grabs a fistful of my shirt to keep me in place when I try to sit up. His gaze remains on me when he answers. “I don’t know. I came up behind him, and he was staring at the car.” He shakes me. “Are you going to tell us what you did to my fucking car?”

I spit a bloody glob at him and grin when it lands on his cheek.

Brennon shoves me back and punches me while I’m down. When I don’t make a sound or scream for help, he punches again. By the fourth hit, I laugh. It sends him over the edge, and Austin joins by kicking me in the side.

I ball up to protect my weaker spots, but Brennon forces me to sprawl out.

My laughter turns maniacal.

Keep hitting me, fuckers. I’ll use this to my advantage.

Austin slams his fist against my right eye. I grunt and squeeze my eyes shut as black dots fill my vision. I bare my bloody teeth when my ears begin to ring.