Page 6 of Merciless

The few women in the hallway turn their heads at the loud sound. Their surprise melts into lust because they think I’m Elijah.

I stalk down the hallway and ignore them as they call me by my brother’s name. Each time I hear it, my mood sours until my knuckles turn white from clenching my fists.

Elijah is expecting me. I wasted too much time on our stepsister. He was right to hate her as much as he does. Perhaps the sneaky things he does are for the best.

Maybe instead of being the ghost of Astar Elite College, I should be the monster Eden fucking Astar deserves.

CHAPTER 3

ELIJAH

Derrick awkwardly slings his arm around my shoulder as we walk toward the entrance to the local pub. I stand a foot taller than the annoying asshole, and he has to push up on his toes to pull me into him. The height difference never stops him from doing this.

His laughter grates on my last nerve. Moments like these remind me why my twin hates people. I don’t blame him. I’m right there with him, barely putting up with other people’s bullshit.

I cast a glare at Derrick from the corner of my eye, then shrug him off me. He rights himself without missing a beat, unbothered and still just as fucking annoying.

“Did you see how she looked when she picked up the crow?” he says between laughs. “She was seconds away from crying.”

Katie and the others join in with Derrick. They break down my stepsister’s reactions as if they’re discussing a film. They get a fucking hard-on from Eden’s negative reactions, and it’s been their thing for years. They remind me of energy-sucking vampires who need to feed on others’ misery. Sometimes even my own.

During my friends’ breakdown of Eden’s reactions, they miss one little detail—an interesting look that strangely made my dick twitch. A spark of violence flashed in her eyes and turned the melancholy into venomous disdain. She reached for an item in her pocket, and I want to know what it was.

The boring attempts to get a rise out of her would be made so much better if she developed enough gall to reach for a weapon. But that’s just wishful thinking. I enjoy breaking women’s spirits and watching their inner fire extinguish. I’d be a hypocrite if I said I didn’t get high from seeing the tears in Eden’s eyes and how her chin wobbles when I do a particularly cruel thing.

My lips twitch at the thought of a broken Eden, and I fight back my smile.

Katie steps ahead of the group and turns to walk backward.

“I don’t know what the freak does with all the dead birds,” she says to Derrick. “Do you think she uses them as sacrifices for her spells?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if she does.” Derrick snorts.

One of the lackeys snickers. “Watch out, the freak may put a curse on us. Especially you, Derrick. Did you see how she looked at you?”

“Maybe we should leave her a warning not to try anything.” Katie’s gaze flicks toward me, and her smile tightens before she turns to open the bar’s door.

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes at her.

It’s been five months, and she’s still cumbersome. I may have embarrassed her in front of the school by turning down her advances, but that’s long past us now.

I walk inside the bar behind her, my friends following me. Aged wood, booze, and cigarette smoke fill the place. I part from the group and head toward the back corner, where I can sit and face the door.

“Where are you going, bro?” Derrick calls.

“You’re too slow,” I say, not bothering to raise my voice.

“Aw. Don’t tell me you’re upset about us giving your sister a hard time.” Derrick’s shoes thump against the ground, each one bringing him closer. His arm hooks around my shoulder, and he jerks me into him.

Turning my head toward him, I glare, hoping he gets the message.

Derrick ignores my warning and flexes the muscles in his arm. “Get the stick out of your ass, man. Chill. You wanted us to do the dirty⁠—”

He yells as I grab his wrist. I duck beneath his outstretched arm to position myself behind him, and then I ratchet his wrist in a lock to control where and how he moves.

“I don’t give a shit what you do with her.” I raise his arm and grin at his garbled yell. “What I have a problem with is you touching me. Next time, I will take a body part for keepsakes. Maybe then you’ll understand keeping your hands to yourself.”

“Jesus Christ, man! Let go!” Derrick twists his body and stops when he realizes that the more he moves, the worse the pain gets.