Page 27 of Merciless

Asher

When he reads the message but doesn’t say anything, I slip my phone back into my pocket.

Hopefully Eden will listen to me and get some rest before tonight. She’ll need it before the night is through.

CHAPTER 12

EDEN

NIGHT 2 OF THE BET

The spray of hot water mixes with my tears as they slip down my cheeks. The great thing about crying in the shower is that it leaves no evidence for anyone to bear witness to.

No one really uses the common bathroom in Glass Hall. Everyone else is lucky enough to have their own in their dorm, while I don’t. I was thrown into what I call the spare dorm. The dean is on the same page as the rest of the bullies.

It sucks that even the staff at this elite college join the bullies in making my life hard. I would kill to have the space to shower without worrying someone will walk in while I’m crying . . . or doing other things.

Everything is piling on my shoulders. The emotions are almost too much to bear, but I won’t allow it to break me.

The threats and insults from the recent text messages from the unknown number haven’t changed. It’s the same tactic—a photoshopped image of me with words like slut and whore written across it.

I haven’t slept with anyone. This person thinks otherwise, though.

I blink away the tears and water, my gaze falling on the razor blade I set on the lip of the shower stall. The pain tempts me. It’s enough to take my mind off the pain I can’t control. The deep, aching kind that fills my chest whenever my thoughts linger on my situation.

I don’t like that I do this. I know it’s not okay, that it’s dangerous, but what else am I supposed to do? Asking for help never worked. My mother did nothing. My stepfather wouldn’t understand. My stepbrothers would rather I disappear before ever helping me.

So I’m left with this.

I grab the razor and hold out my arm to look for a good spot. Not that it matters. Old scars from all the other times stare up at me. The blade sinks into my skin, and as I drag it, a trail of blood follows.

My breath shudders out of me, my eyelashes flutter, and I bite my bottom lip to quiet a whimper as I cut another line, deeper than the last. By the third one, tears blind my vision for a different reason, and I can’t feel anything.

Numbness seeps into my body and mind—the high from the adrenaline that makes this endurable.

I hold my arm beneath the spray of hot water to wash away the blood. After a while, I finish the shower and leave the bathroom in a towel with my toiletry tote.

I hate that the first thing I look at when I enter my room is my phone. It lies in the middle of the bed where I left it, face-down and not displaying the messages that sent me rushing to the bathroom.

Shaking my head, I dress for the night and use the first-aid kit to clean the fresh cuts. I flip off the light and crawl into bed. My head hits the pillow, and I hope to fall asleep right away. Instead, I do the same thing I do every night and lie on my side, staring into nothing.

A small noise creaks through the silence.

I pop my head up and turn to check the room. A hand slaps over my mouth, and I’m flipped onto my stomach.

“Shh. Don’t make a fucking sound or I’ll choke you with my cock,” a man whispers, his voice low and harsh.

I swallow the whimper creeping up my throat. Tears fill my eyes, and I peek over my shoulder, hoping to see him, but it’s dark and he moves out of the way so I can’t see him.

I’m at his complete and utter mercy.

A tear breaks loose and trails down my cheek. He must see it because he snorts a laugh, the sound sending a chill down my spine.

“Tears won’t save you, slut.” He bears down, pressing his body against mine, forcing me to feel his hardening cock against my ass.

My breath comes out fast and shallow against his hand. I squeeze my eyes shut and dig my nails into the arm looped around my front to keep me silent.

I thought I knew what it felt like to be helpless. Everything else pales in comparison. I didn’t think the bullying would get to this point.