Heartless (Merciless Book 2)

The front door is open; it’s never open.

The soft pads of my feet patter against the marble floor as I make my way to the entrance, following the bright light of day.

I can already smell the fresh air and the warmth before I step outside. The grass in the front yard is lush and although it’s fall, the weather is lovely.

I haven’t stepped on the porch at all. Not once since I’ve been here, and the thought seems too odd to be a reality, but it is. I was carried inside, and I’ve only ever looked through the etched glass of the windows but I don’t try to do that often as it is. It just seems cruel to tease myself like that.

I glance behind me, down the foyer, and then peek outside, but I don’t see anyone. Not at first. Not until I take a step onto the smooth slate porch and then another.

I hear him first, Jase. With a phone to his ear, he walks around the side of the house and then back up. There’s a hitch in my breath and a slam in my chest; I freeze, but only for a split second.

I’m walking outside.

I’m not trying to run away. Although I have to force my limbs to move, I do just that. Staring Jase in the eyes, I walk to the stairs. They’re grand and massive, just as you’d expect for an estate like this. Not to mention beautiful. Everything about this place looks expensive and each detail intricate, from the trimmed bushes and groomed flower beds to the arched driveway paved with cobblestone, reflects an elegance from whoever lives here.

I nearly snort just thinking about Carter choosing all these details. Carter is anything but elegant.

I hold Jase’s gaze as I slowly sit on the steps. A large column blocks me from his view and I can imagine he’ll come running.

So sorry to interrupt his phone call. The captive is fleeing; call the guards, call the guards!

A genuine laugh makes my shoulders shake at the sarcastic thoughts. As I lean against the column, enjoying the sun that dances across my skin and the fresh breeze, Jase comes running up the yard, just as I anticipated.

Rolling my eyes, I give him a face. A face that says, are you fucking kidding me?

“I’m on break from being the prisoner. I called in a temporary replacement,” I mutter.

His lips twitch like he wants to smile, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything, not to me and not for a few minutes. I can hear the sound of someone speaking from his phone although I can’t make out the words. He doesn’t seem to pay attention to them at all.

My heart beats a little harder and anxiety trickles slowly into my veins. My foot nervously taps on the stone steps, but I hold my ground. Even as I start to get emotional, knowing that I can’t even step outside without someone losing their shit, I stay right the hell where I am and enjoy the fucking porch.

“I’ll call you back,” Jase finally speaks, although it’s still not to me. My muscles get rigid and my teeth clench together. If he thinks he’s taking me inside… I swallow thickly at the thought. What am I really going to do? I can at least kick him. One good hard kick, maybe in the shin. I nod my head faintly at the idea, keeping my eyes on a few leaves that have turned a beautiful shade of auburn as they sway in the gentle wind. If he puts a hand on me to force me back inside, I swear I’m going to kick his ass.

A soft grin tugs at my lips. It’s nice to feel like a tough girl at least. And like I have a choice.

“You picked a good day,” Jase says, and I lift my gaze to see him slipping the phone into his pocket before he climbs the first few steps to sit by me but on a stair lower than mine.

I’m quiet for a moment, gauging how he looks so comfortable and acts like this is normal. Just like he did in the kitchen.

“It is nice.” I nip at my lower lip before adding, “I used to have a balcony off of my bedroom. I liked sitting out there.”

He glances back at me for a moment but ends it with a short, almost sad smile and then he leans back, bracing his forearms on the step behind him.

I guess my guard has decided to pretend to be my friend and just sit by me.

“Who designed this place?” I ask him, wanting a distraction and to think of anything but last night.

I woke up alone and that’s exactly how I’ve felt all day. Miserable and alone.

I could sit peacefully in silence on my own, but Jase interrupted that. If he’s going to babysit me, then he’s going to have to talk to me. A punishment for a punishment. I smile at the snide remark in my head and think about raking up all the good lines I’ve had since I walked out here. I guess I’m in a bitchy mood. Good luck to my adversaries.

“We did,” he answers with a smirk that doesn’t hide his pride.

“No, you didn’t.” I don’t even hesitate to call him out on his bullshit.

“Why would you think we didn’t?” he asks me, a quizzical look on his face.

“You’re telling me that you chose lilacs and peonies for the front yard?” I question him, challenging him to tell me that any of the Cross brothers wanted those plants.

Jase’s expression turns guarded and he clears his throat as he looks toward the very bushes that give me my argument.

“Our mother wanted lilacs and peonies.” His admission is spoken simply, flatly. “She asked for them for Mother’s Day, but she died just before,” he tells me, and his voice dims toward the end.

“I’m sorry,” I say and keep my tone gentle. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” he says and waves me off. “I get what you mean, but yeah, we designed it. A few years back.” A gust of wind blows by, sweeping some of my hair in front of my face and some behind my back, leaving a chill in its wake and reminding me that it is, in fact, fall.

“Well, it’s beautiful,” I tell him genuinely. I ignore the chill in the air and wrap my arms around myself. Goosebumps threaten, but I’m not ready to go back inside and the sun feels warm. I could lie in the sun all day, but it looks like I barely have an hour before the trees on the edge of the estate will hide it from me.

“You aren’t planning on running, right?” Jase asks me and turns around to look at me with a stern look on his face. “I’d like to keep my balls, and I’m sure Carter would take them if I let you leave.”

Laughter erupts from me just because of how serious he looks. His expression changes to one of humor and I find myself surprised by him yet again. Shaking my head, my hair tickling my shoulders I tell him, “Daniel told me it’s useless with the guards.” I shrug as if it’s all a joke.

That’s what my captivity is apparently, a fucking joke. Yet, there’s only a modest pang of despair from that thought.

Jase huffs and looks over to the right side of the yard. And the way he does it makes me think Daniel’s lying. Like Jase is hiding something from me.

“There are guards?” I question him. “Aren’t there?”

He looks me up and down for a moment like he’s considering telling me something.

“Yeah,” he nods and tells me, “we have a few posted along the fences.”

I acknowledge what he said with a small nod, but don’t respond. Instead, I think about taking a walk to clear my head, but I’m sure Jase would follow me like a lost puppy and I wouldn’t be able to think anyway.

“We told them to just taze the pretty brunettes, though.”

I give Jase’s joke a small laugh and lean forward to run my hand down my legs before considering if he was being truthful. “You’re joking?” I ask him, and he shrugs like an asshole with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’re in a good mood today,” I mutter sarcastically.

“Right back atcha.”

Time passes easily for a moment, but much to my dismay the clouds come in and capture the sun before I’m ready for the warmth to leave me.

“You want a blanket?” Jase asks me, and I glance at him, watching as he stands up, stretching his back and wincing as he holds his ass. “You might want to bring a chair out too if you’re staying longer,” he tells me, and I can’t help but smile.

“I may go in; I don’t know,” I tell him and that’s when my dumb heart reminds me that I’ll have to see Carter and that he’s being weird and distant… and stupid and guarded and a fucking dick. My throat goes dry and I let out a distressed breath. I can’t look at Jase when I do. I know he saw, though.

“You know he has it bad for you, right?” he asks me and that dryness in my throat travels higher, making me feel like I’ll choke if I speak, so I don’t.

“Don’t hurt him,” Jase tells me, and I whip my eyes to his, craning my neck since he’s standing up now.

“Me?” I ask him incredulously. “First of all, I don’t hurt people. Secondly, he won’t let me close enough to even think of hurting him. Whatever we have is very one-sided and,” I try to keep going, but my words crack, and I hate it. I hate that I’m emotional over this. I hate that I’m close to admitting how much I feel for him and that whatever he feels for me isn’t even close to being the same. I get why Beauty fell in love with the Beast, but it doesn’t change who Carter is. There’s no magical rose or kiss that will turn him into a prince. All Carter will ever be is a beast.

That ragged breathing comes back, and I stand up, ready to make a cup of tea and go hide in the den, or maybe the new room, the white room, the pretty room with the replicas of what I used to be in it. Whatever the hell that gilded room is. My hideaway room.

“Hey, hey,” Jase’s voice is comforting, and he takes a step closer to me, but doesn’t touch me as he says, “He’s had a hard time.”

“Yeah, well, so have I.” I bite out the words and surprisingly keep the bitterness in my voice to a minimum.

“He’s had a decade of hard times, of people he loved dying, his only friend and brother leaving him, and then other fucked up shit. It was a never-ending cycle until he became the person he is now.”

I glance up at Jase, but only for a second because I don’t want to cry. He looks sympathetic at least, and genuine, but right now I need to know something will change. I don’t need excuses; they’re never good for anything.

“What are you doing out here?” Carter’s sharp voice makes me jump and I nearly fall backward on the stairs but catch myself. My heart pounds and for the first time, I feel real fear since coming outside.

“Are you crying?” Carter asks me with disbelief and then turns to Jase with a look that could kill.

“She was just talking about you, actually,” Jase answers Carter slowly, and the two stare at each other for a long, hard moment.

“I wanted some fresh air for a minute,” I say to break up their moment, not holding back my anger as I continue. “I got lucky enough that my cage door was open.” With those parting words, I step past both of them, brushing against Carter as I do and hating that I breathe in his scent, feel his warmth, and love them both.

I need a cup of tea, a good book if I can find one in my new room, my hideaway room, and some time to ignore the world.

But Carter doesn’t give me that. I make it two steps inside the door before he snatches my elbow. I rip my arm away and he looks at me like he doesn’t understand. Like I’m the one who’s acting out of the ordinary.

“What’s wrong?” he asks me, concern lacing the demand to answer him.

“Are you fucking serious?” I don’t contain my outrage even though I should have. Carter’s eyes narrow and darken, but I don’t let it stop me. My heart races and it hurts harder with each thump.

“You’re being an asshole. An even bigger one than usual.”

“Be gentle,” I hear Jase say quietly as he shuts the front door, hiding the last bit of light from the day and leaving us with the sound of his trailing footsteps. Part of me wonders if he’s talking to me or to Carter.

“I’m sorry,” Carter says through clenched teeth, almost like those words weren’t meant to come from him in this moment. He shifts his weight from his left to his right and looks down at me with a look that elicits both fear and that dark desire I can’t deny.

A rumble of low irritation settles in his chest as he tells me, “Mind the way you speak to me.”

“You should do the same,” I bite back without thinking. But it’s true. His eyes flash with anger, but he doesn’t speak. His jaw is held firm and I bet if he were to clench his teeth any tighter, they’d break. “You treat me like a child,” I tell him and then swallow thickly, feeling the knotted ball grow tighter in my throat. “You don’t want me near you, you don’t talk to me. And last night…” I can’t finish because again I feel like I’m going to cry, and I swear I’m not going to. Not here.

He doesn’t let me love him. But it’s because I’m his whore. I already know that’s the answer. It’s why he didn’t kiss me for as long as he did. I’m meant to be his whore and nothing more.

A moment passes where I’m just breathing. Staring into the eyes of a man who can make me feel so much, but right now it all hurts. I want him to hold me and let me hold him back. I want to slap him and tell him he’s an asshole and that I hate him. I want him to tell me that he loves me, and he doesn’t think of me like I think he does.

In a matter of seconds, I go through a fantasy where everything will be okay.

“Give me your hand,” Carter commands me. I jut out my chin, hellbent on telling him to fuck off, but he has a pull over me. The depth of pain in the hollows of his dark eyes makes me bend to his will. Slowly, I bring my hand up for him to take it. Even if I am just his whore, obeying his command.

I watch as he presses my hand to his phone, flattening it and then turns his back on me, walking to a panel by the front door.

I can feel my eyebrows pinch together.

Carter already said he’s sorry once. I doubt he’ll say it again. At this point, I don’t even know what I want him to say. His words aren’t the problem, it’s his actions.

“If you’re going back outside, grab a coat.” His words are stern but there’s a trace of melancholy there. Press your hand here, he demonstrates. He gave me access. My heart flickers to life, and I hate that it does. It’s the things like this that make me question what I am to him.

“I wasn’t going back out tonight,” I tell him weakly. Wanting more from him, but not knowing how much to push him. My eyes dart from his to the door. Carter’s a hard man and maybe he’s had a hard life, but I need more than what he gave me last night and today.

I don’t know if I’m in a position to ask for it, to demand it, or if Carter is even capable of giving me more than this. And if he goes through with his plans, all of this is for naught.

“Well, whenever you do,” Carter tells me but when my eyes reach his, he moves his attention back to his phone.

I glance down at what he’s doing only to find him exit whatever it was and that’s when I see today’s date.

And that’s when this little truce no longer matters.

Nothing matters.