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“I don’t know. I just put a bunch of shit in a bowl to get your attention.” “You got it, Mercer. My attention. Fuck, you’ve got it.”
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” “I hate cuddling,” I remind him, holding tighter, feeling more and more relaxed. “I know.” He’s calling me a liar.
They make me fucking nauseous. I love them so much
My heart sinks. I forgot it was in my chest there for a bit, but bam, there it is. Bleeding all over the place, reminding me it was sitting on that dagger point.
I mean something to him. Not to his dad or my dad. Not for a job. Not because he wants to rescue me or heal me. He just cares. About me. Mercer Bentley Palmerston.
“You become submissive to manipulate the dominance,” he laughs. “Fuck, you really are a genius. And a manipulative little brat. So impressed.”
“You actually into him, Blake?” “Yeah,” I admit, because there’s no point in hiding it. “He’s feisty as fuck and I’m pretty into it.”
“If I’d known that you coming home and falling in love with Ben was the key to taming that little brat, I’d have ended your training a year ago.”
and confused about himself because his redeeming qualities are what drove his own father to send him for medical brainwashing.
Little Demon: your abs are shit compared to these fire gods. Blake: if you *accidentally* light yourself on fire to get their attention, I’m not visiting you in the burn unit. Little Demon: I’d never risk my skin like that. Little Demon: but I could *choke* on something to get mouth-to-mouth. Blake: you don’t even choke on an eight-inch dick, but good try. Little Demon: compliment? Blake: mm. Little Demon: mm.
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Addicts aren’t bad people even though they do shit things to get their fix. We don’t turn our backs on them. Thieves steal for reasons that make sense to their situation, but they get let out of prison after serving their time. Even some murders are accidental, and those people suffer for eternity for what they’ve done. People are redeemable. Some people.
I never wanted to be one of the people in Mercer’s life that told him he couldn’t wear something, but… he can’t wear that.
He scoffs. Or huffs. Or laughs condescendingly.
I don't know why I love the continuity of this but I do
This is his confidence and his style. It’s his defiance to be different, but his compliance to belong. It’s begging for attention while being unsure if he’s worthy of it. It’s a statement that he’s Mercer Bentley Palmerston, and he’s no longer afraid.
Turns out, murders aren’t for me. Murderers, on the other hand, have a sex appeal I had not been expecting.
The mind fuck of his personalities—contract killer to attentive lover—has my cock all up in arms,
Either way, he still called me.” “And you still left with your heels in your hand.”
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“Well, you won,” she says, sipping. “And that suit is… fire.” “I know,” I admit to both those statements. “Your dress is infuriatingly perfect on your disgustingly flawless body.”
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“Uh oh,” Dee says. “You in trouble?” I grin at Blake. “I hope so.”
Dee laughs. “Anyway, nice to see you both. Blake, I’d say call me but your pet here bites, so don’t call me. Mercer, if you’re ever around…” She leaves it open-ended, and I respect her for it.
“Oh, I want him to notice. I want him to know that while he neglected you, I accepted you. That he wasn’t strong enough to handle someone as fucking incredible as you, but I’m strong enough to embrace you. I want him to know that his fuck ups are my rewards. You, Mercer, are mine, and I want him to know it. I caught your relationship slip-up.”
If I have a panic attack just… just don’t let my dad see it.” “I promise,” he says.
“Tell me how to dominate you while never making you feel like you’re less than me. I want you to rise to the top of whatever you see for yourself in life. You’ve been beaten down since you were a kid, and I refuse to do that to you. Tell me the right way to give you what you need without ever making you feel worthless.”
The thoughtful man who wants to pay attention to all my feelings, or the aggressive dominant who wants to step up to the plate to play my game. I think I love them both because they both see me.
No matter which version of himself he’s being, he sticks to his promise of not ignoring me.
He asked me how to dominate me without making me feel worthless… Well, by loving me. By doing exactly what he’s doing. By respecting me. By proving to me that he cares without treating me like I’m broken.
Blake Carter loves me. I can feel it. I think it’s his love and attention that has this new version of me clawing to the surface, fighting tooth and nail to break free so I can become someone who accepts his love and knows how to love him back.
I’m all the strings, tangled up like webs. Pull the wrong one and I’ll go off the deep end, but keep tugging on them individually and he’ll get so caught in my mess he won’t be able to leave.
“What kind of attention did you want from me?” All of it. Undivided. Love. Understanding. I want him to see me and still look at me because I’m worthy of being looked at. I want him to look under my mask and understand why I wear it. I want him to notice me because every outward part of me shows the truth of all the inward parts of me, and then I want him to peel my layers back and still give me all his attention because the mess he finds underneath is still worth it.
“A smart, bratty little boy with so much fire, but no idea how to keep it burning. I’m going to make you burn, Mercer.”
“I respect you,” he tells me, making me whimper. “But I will fucking use you like you want to be used. I can do both. Understand?”
“Blake, don’t leave.” “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” “I mean ever,” I say, knowing it’s psychotic. We barely know each other. “You’ll break me.”
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“You’re going to ruin my life,” Blake says with a smile on his face. “And make it fucking fun. You’re going to be my brat when you want to be, my partner all the time, and my good little boy when you need to be reminded how fucking important you are. You know what I’m going to be for you?” I shake my head, crying again. Desperate to know what he’s going to be for me. Wondering if he’s as psychotic as I am, falling this hard this soon. “Everything. Yours. You fucking own me, Mercer. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Blake?” “Yeah, baby.” “Thanks for… seeing me.” He smiles at me, still sweaty and exhausted. “I’ll never stop looking, Mercer.”
“Ben,” Dad says. “I… I wanted to offer you a drink and my apologies.” He holds out two glasses, both with a serving of scotch. “It’s long overdue.”
Don't drink that
But on the other hand, he is my precious little baby and I will stop at nothing to ensure he is safe.
*whip sounds*
“Time to be the overprotective boyfriend he secretly wants but will never admit to.
“Blake, your dad was with Trevor Palmerston.” Aaron gives me a look. A look that says my world is about to be turned upside down. A look that hints at deception on the part of my own family.
Mercer Bentley is my only priority. Because I fucking love that little brat.
On a whim, I text Mercer’s phone. Blake: I’m on my way, baby. If Will has it, I hope he sees it, and I hope he fucking sweats.
“Baby,” Dad says, looking at a phone. “He calls you baby. Suits you, since you’re sucking your fucking thumb like one.”
“I’m not in your way! I… just let me go. I’ll change my name and leave the family for good. No one wants me anyway.” “The Carter boy does,” Dad says.
I remind myself that I am worth something. My life might have been pointless, but Blake saw me. He sees me. He understands and respects me, and the few weeks I’ve spent with him have been enough to settle my breathing, pull my fingers away from my mouth, and meet the barrel of that gun with readiness in my heart.
The rage inside me wants to kill him, but the heart in my chest knows Mercer is my priority. The heart in my chest makes Mercer my priority. Nothing is worth it if he doesn’t make it through this.
“I really wanna go home now, Blake. Please.” He shakes in my arms. “Please.” “Where’s home, Mercer? Tell me where you feel safe.” “With you.”
I love my dad, but he won’t sway me away from Mercer, even if there is some diabolical plan to ruin the Palmerstons. I’ll just make Mercer not a Palmerston.
When I saw him covered in blood with closed eyes for that photo, it shook me. Dead bodies are nothing to me, but this one… it’s mine. Mine to love. Mine to protect. Mine to own. And I never want to see it dead again.
“I can leave if you want to have this as a family thing.” Except I can’t leave because I’m glued to Blake and unwilling to let him detach himself from me. Blake starts to scold me for offering to leave, but Brendan cuts him off. “You are family, Mercer. And this has just as much to do with you as it does us.”
