We left her.
Mercy darts her gaze between us and then wraps her fingers into a tight fist around that cross I remember so well. I wonder if she ever looks at the back, at the word etched into it that became our lives.
SHAME.
Without Eternity, we should take the E from the end of the word, leaving SHAM. That’s more accurate anyway. That’s really why the group split—because we became a sham of a friendship—or proved we always had been one. Friends don’t leave other friends alone even when they ask you to.
Maybe that’s why we were all so pissed at Mercy when she told the truth. Because we were too cowardly to do it. We were pissed not because we didn’t deserve our punishment, but because we couldn’t admit that we did.
Except Heath. I know he blames himself as much as anyone, but we were the ones who convinced him to leave. He should hate us as much as he hates Mercy. Probably more. But the dude’s a sweetheart, even though he’d rip my throat out if I called him that to his face.
“Because we were fucking stupid,” Saint says at last, when I don’t answer Mercy’s question first. “We were kids, and it was awkward to have just fucked our friend. Something that had always been simple was suddenly complicated and messy.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I tell Saint, even though I do it too. “When she told us she needed some space, we argued. We didn’t want to.”
“But we let her talk us into leaving,” Saint says. “Just like she talked us into doing it to begin with. The ugly truth is, I was relieved when she convinced us she wanted to be alone. I didn’t know how to deal with what had just happened, and I probably wanted to be alone to process too. That’s why. There should be a better reason, but there’s not. There was nothing nefarious about it. We were kids, and we didn’t know how to deal with shit, so we left her to deal with it on her own. Are you happy now?”
Mercy is quiet for a long minute, while Saint glares at her like she’s responsible for all of it. At last, she looks up from her knees. “But you didn’t leave her alone,” she says. “You left her with Maverick.”
My head snaps up. “What?”
“You said your cousin was there,” she says slowly. “That it was his DNA they found in her clothes. I didn’t know he was there, which means he was already under the bridge when we got there. And when you came back up and met me and Heath, he wasn’t with you, either. Otherwise I’d have known.”
“Maverick didn’t kill Eternity,” I say flatly.
She swallows and toys with the edge of her skirt. “But did he sell her?”
fourteen
The Merciful
“I had quite an enlightening conversation with my cousin,” Angel says as we walk back from the dining hall after dinner in the pouring rain.
“Oh yeah?” I ask, trying to sound normal though my heart is racing. “Which one?”
“Maverick,” Angel says, watching me from the corner of his eye as he holds the umbrella over us both. I can tell he’s studying me, even though he thinks he’s being subtle. It’s always good to know what your opponent is focused on, and I got so used to everyone being an opponent that I watch everyone, even the ones who are friends now.
“You didn’t tell him I suspected him, did you?”
“Nope,” Angel says cheerfully.
I think he likes knowing he’s driving me crazy, and that’s why he’s withholding information. The smug bastard.
He holds the umbrella over me at the door of my dorm while I swipe my key card. I know he has the key to the staff entrance around the back, but he plays along like the rules apply to him during the day.
“Did you find out anything?” I ask, deciding not to give him the reaction he wants.
We step inside the lobby, and Angel folds his umbrella before answering.
“Actually, I did,” he says. “Some very interesting things. About you.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but my heart is racing.
“What things?”
“It seems like he fixed up some masked fighter who got stabbed on the very same night you got stabbed. What a coincidence.”
“That… Is a coincidence,” I manage.
