Page 22 of Merciless

I grin. “You definitely fell for it.”

He chuckles with a shake of his head. “No, I don’t think the machine is broken, or rigged, for that matter. I think you have a lot on your mind, and it’s preventing you from focusing on the angle.”

“I hate this.”

“And I can help.”

I groan and drop my head against the plexiglass and stare at the plush. “I don’t think you can, and I don’t want you to.”

Shane leans against the machine and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “You’re too tense, and you’ve got tunnel-vision. You need to open your eyes a little more and focus on a different perspective.”

“My eyes are open, and I am focused.” I jerk back and wave a hand toward the machine. “Stop talking in riddles and tell me how I can win the stupid doll. In fact, stop offering your help. I’m so tired of people saying they can help me, but they never do unless they get something in return.”

Tears burn the backs of my eyes. I hate that I cry when I’m angry.

Shane straightens, his lips parting at my outburst.

I can’t stop the word vomit. “You’re all the same, thinking that you’re better than me. Just like him. He thinks he’s so much better, and he offers help only if I give him something in return. I hate it. Why can’t he just help me? Why didn’t he ever help me?”

I suck in a ragged breath. My cheeks heat more, along with the rest of my face.

Shane grins. “Do you feel better?”

I nod.

Yeah, I feel better after getting it off my chest. Now here come the hundreds of questions. He’ll want to know who he is and what he wanted from me.

Shane pushes away from the machine and steps closer to me. “I don’t know what the guy asked for in return, but I’m not him, Eden. I won’t ask for anything. Screw the other guy and his bullshit. I want to help you because you’re my friend.”

“Fine.” I take a breath and raise my chin. “What do I do about this other guy? Do I take his offer to help me?”

Shane’s smile tightens. “That’s not the help I was offering.”

I snort. “Oh, you’re not getting that plushie for me.”

“Fair enough.”

“So you won’t give me advice?”

“Fine,” he sighs. “What did he ask for in return?”

“For me to ride with him.”

Shane blanches. “Ride with him? What does he mean by that?”

“I’m not fucking him. I told you, I’m not interested in relationships.” Let alone with my stepbrother, past be damned. “I guess he needs a passenger when he’s competing or something.”

“What’s he helping you with?”

“He says if he hangs out with me, it’ll stop the bullying.”

“And that’s all you’re wanting? Nothing more?”

“That would be nice.” Now that he’s said it aloud, it doesn’t seem like a lot. Then again, neither does Elijah’s request.

If I sit in his passenger seat and don’t have to say anything, it can’t be that bad. Especially if he hangs around me to ward off the jerks.

Shane must see the realization on my face, because he grins. “Sounds like you’re coming around.”