How would his family not realize that? I believe they will. They’ll know it had something to do with Mercy and look the other way. It’s what we’ve always done. The Keepers of Mercy get to play God, and we have to go along with it.
Cain barges into my bedroom, his fists in my shirt as he yells in my face, “They fucking killed him. All for some stupid fucking game.”
“He knew what he signed up for,” I repeat Decider’s logic. “He wanted to play and understood the risks.”
His grip tightens as he states, “Remy didn’t understand shit. The guy couldn’t take anything serious. And now he’s dead. How many more have to die before it’s enough? His blood is on your hands, along with every other person who has died or will. Can you live with that?”
“I don’t have a choice.” About any of it. “I have to finish Mercy. If I don’t, I lose everything. I’ll lose her.”
“You’re going to lose her anyway.” Cain releases my shirt then turns his back to me and walks out.
He’s right. I’m going to lose her either way. If I win, I still lose. I’ll never be free from Mercy. Yet, I still want to hold onto her as tight as I can.
Walking to her house, I forego the front door and enter through the side gate using the same code as it was for the previous owners.
When I reach the back door off the patio, it’s unlocked so I slip inside. I notice Chad nearby as I make my way down the hallway, but he doesn’t notice an uninvited guest in the house. The man could get hit in the face with a baseball bat and still miss the fucking point.
Once I reach the staircase, I see Anthony on the landing. “I’ll leave if she asks me to.”
He nods as I climb the stairs and go past him. He’s protective over her, so I won’t even fault the man for the side-eye he’s giving me.
Opening her bedroom door, I find her curled up in bed. But I know she’s not sleeping. I slowly lift the comforter, and I slide in behind her. She relaxes against me, and I take the moment to loop my arm around her, pulling her closer. My lips brush over her shoulder. She’d given up. I saw it in her face. Her accepted fate was defeat.
Pulling her tighter to me, I bury my face in her hair. I’m going to hold onto her as long as she’ll let me. And when she doesn’t feel like fighting, I’ll do it for her.
63
IVY
My nightmares are even more horrible and vivid now. They’re a mixture of the accident, my mom coming to life—accompanied by a never-ending soundtrack of her screaming for help—and Remy. He’s always smiling and happy, though; he’s not scared or in pain. He’s at peace. I wish my mom would appear the same way. Peaceful and joyful. But when I wake up, they’re both still gone.
“Did you sleep at all?” Luca keeps his arm around me.
“Yes, some.”
He relaxes against me. “Let’s skip today.”
“You don’t have to babysit me. The dare was terrifying and horrible, but I’m good.”
Luca moves over me. “I’m not,” he admits, his weight resting slightly on me as his forehead rests on mine. “I almost lost you.”
“I’m fine,” I say, trying to convince myself of the same. “You almost died trying to keep me from falling. It was stupid.”
“I meant it, Ivy. I wasn’t leaving that oil rig without you.”
“Yeah, and that was stupid too.” I twist under him, turning to my side. “I just want to sleep a little longer.”
He drops behind me as we lie in bed. I don’t want to sleep. I just don’t want to talk or deal with anything. But I eventuallydoze off until the nightmare returns. My eyes snap open as soon as my mom’s do. Thankfully I didn’t wake him, though he stirs a bit when I slide off the bed. I head into the bathroom, shower, brush my teeth, and get ready for the day. It was the routine I did when I didn’t want to do anything else. And that’s what today is. Bare minimum.
It’s not long after I step into my bedroom when he gets up and heads to the bathroom. “I’ll grab us breakfast. Want anything specific?”
“No, not hungry.”
When he exits the bathroom, he says, “You might be later. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Okay.” There’s no point arguing with him. I just wish he would stop being so accommodating. It makes me feel broken. He’s the jackass who makes me uncomfortable, not the one who fetches breakfast.
I end up dozing off again. This time when the bad dreams wake me up, I move to a chair. The street is mostly empty. It’s raining and dreary. The weather definitely fits the mood of the day.
