Page 143 of Merciless

Elijah shrugs. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. However, if you help us, we won’t have to worry about that, now, will we?”

Rome’s shoulders tense, and he scowls at both of us. I watch the struggle in his gaze, how he clings to his conviction.

Blackmail works every time.

Bit by bit, Rome lets go of his pride and realizes that he’s fucked either way.

He sighs. “Fine. I’ll help, but only if you’ll help me in the near future.”

Elijah dips his chin in a nod.

Rome sweeps his fingers through his white-blonde hair. “Give me a couple of hours to hack into everyone’s phones and wipe the video. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

“Good,” Elijah says. “That wasn’t hard, now, was it?”

Rome scowls at him. “You owe me.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

Rome’s gaze flicks to me and remains. His lips turn up in a subtle smirk. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

He doesn’t need to elaborate for me to understand his question.

I shake my head.

No, Elijah doesn’t know what happened the night I was held by the Walker brothers. He doesn’t know that I saw Rome there. Things were said. Things were done. It’ll stay a secret until someone else brings it to light.

Rome smirks. “Maybe that’s for the best.”

Elijah turns to me, his eyebrows furrowed.

I don’t plan to tell him anytime soon. It’s not my secret to tell.

Derrick’s booming laughter breaks through the crowd in the pub. Elijah and I came here to have a word. But in order to do so, we have to pretend as if nothing has changed.

“I didn’t expect Asher to join too,” he says. “The Merciless Twins tag-teaming their stepsister.”

Elijah’s eye twitches. “Things change.”

I despise that we have to play along with Derrick. Rome can delete the video from his phone, just like everyone else’s, but we want to give him a single chance to do the right thing. If he refuses, we’ll make him pay, then delete it ourselves.

I relax in my seat and fold my arms across my chest.

“You can say that.” Derrick laughs. “I think this is even better that Asher joined.”

Elijah levels his glare on him. “Delete it.”

Derrick rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me you regret sending it to me.”

“Delete. It.”

Derrick blows a raspberry and waves his hand. “No. It’s mine now.”

This sick motherfucker probably saved it in his spank-bank album.

I turn my glare on Elijah. He may have shown his regret and explained himself to me, but this is all his fault.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Derrick says, sobering from his fit of laughter. “You wanted to prove that you could get with your sister in seven days, and you did. We wanted to make an embarrassment out of the freak.”