Merciless (Merciless 1) - Page 35

“Would you let me go outside at least? Or by a window for some fresh air?” Jase tilts his head and narrows his eyes as if to ask me if I think he’s stupid.

“I promise I wouldn’t run or anything like that. I swear.” My throat tightens as he considers me.

“I’ll see what I can do,” is all he says to my racing heart. But it’s something. It’s a tiny piece of hope.

“Why are you being nice to me?” I stare into his dark eyes, willing him to answer me but inside, I hope for a lie. I want him to tell me everything is going to be okay. That he’s going to get me out of here. But it’s all wishful thinking.

“I’m not a nice guy, Aria, so get that out of your head.” He stands abruptly and then looks back at me as he opens the door wider, so he can leave.

My blood pounds in my ears at the sight of the wide open door, with Jase’s figure blocking it. His shadow fades into the darkness of the room.

Smart. I repeat it over again. Be smart.

Now is not the time. Be his friend. The thought hisses and I listen. He could help me. He could have mercy on me where Carter doesn’t.

“I’m just following Carter’s orders.”

I only nod once and force myself to look elsewhere. Anywhere but toward the false sense of freedom beyond the door. He’ll be back. Next time I’ll be more prepared.

And with that, I’m left alone again.

Chapter 15

Carter

* * *

Three hours have passed, and each hour she’s more and more comfortable.

She hasn’t stopped drawing since Jase left the cell. And I haven’t taken my eyes off of her. There’s only one camera in the room and without being able to zoom in, it’s hard to see her features.

A pile of clothes and her blanket are neatly stacked and folded on the bed. But she stays on the floor, scribbling away. One page after another as if she’s obsessed and unable to stop.

I need to know what she’s writing down. Especially if it’s some sort of account of what’s happened in the last few days. A message, maybe? Maybe it has something to do with why she screams in her sleep nearly every night.

Unease creeps up my spine at the memories. I’m not surprised the first thing she asked for were sleeping pills. I can’t fucking sleep anymore either. Every other night, she cries out in terror and it’s only getting worse.

I thought things would change after the other day.

Another paper flies across the floor, but before its fluttering has even stopped, she’s already sketching on the page that was beneath it.

Change is necessary. Even if I have to force it.

The walk from my office to the cell takes too fucking long. My fists clench tighter and my heart beats faster as I get closer.

I keep the door open and leave the chair where it is this time.

As she scoots back onto her ass and away from the piles of paper to get away from me as I approach, I lower myself to them, crouching down and picking up the closest one.

There are still a few feet between us, but the expression on Aria’s face is of complete fear. Not the defiance I’ve grown to expect.

“Caught you off guard?” I ask her, cocking a brow. Maybe she thinks I’ve come to steal her gifts, or maybe the lack of food reminds her of what happened the other night. I know she ate every bit of that tray Jase gave her with her new possessions earlier today.

I wonder if she thinks it’s a secret he kept from me.

“You look scared,” I add when she doesn’t answer my initial question. Her doe eyes are wide, and the colors stir with so much thought and curiosity.

She doesn’t answer me. She looks like she isn’t even breathing as her eyes glance from the paper in my hand to the open door.

“Don’t think about running, Aria. I don’t want to have to take these away the second you got them.”

Slowly, her chest rises and falls. Her stiff body loosens although she stays back. With her head lowered, she only peeks up at me. It’s an interesting difference, the way she looks at me compared to my brother. I fucking hate it. But fear and control are everything. One day Jase will see that.

With my jaw hardened at the thought, I look down at the paper before turning it over in my hand to see what she’s drawn. It’s upside down at first and it takes me a moment to realize that.

It’s drawn with pen, but it’s beautiful. Fine little lines and sketches that depict a bleeding heart with three knives stabbed through it. The background is a storm and the ink smears only add to the emotion clearly evident on the paper. Although the knives seem to pierce through the heart easily, the rain behind it is so violent, it detracts from the knives a little.

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