All He’ll Ever Be (Merciless World Series Book 1)

His arm feels so heavy. I can barely hear my groan as I wake up and try to push away Carter’s arm.

I struggle, but he only squeezes tighter.

My shoulders twist and I push against his arm, but the muscles are coiled, and his grip is too much. I can’t breathe.

My eyes shoot open, realizing this isn’t a dream.

“Carter!” I cry out in a strangled breath, fighting his hold and letting the anxiety rush through my blood to make me kick backward, shoving and heaving to get him off of me. “Wake up!” My heart pounds harder.

I struggle to breathe. My voice croaks and my lungs burn as I yell, “Carter!”

My chest flies forward as he jolts awake, instantly releasing me and leaving me breathless and crumpled on the bed. The mattress dips and groans as Carter gets up. I push the hair from my face and then try to steady my ragged breathing.

It was only a moment – a small moment – maybe a minute in time, but I thought he was going to kill me, he held me so tight.

“You scared the shit out of me.” I barely get the words out, my eyes still burning.

Without an answer, I turn to him and it’s then I see he’s breathing just as heavily as I am. With both palms against the wall, he leans over and tries to calm himself down.

My blood runs cold at the sight of him. “Carter?” My voice carries across the room to him, ignoring how my muscles are screaming still from fighting against his grip.

Getting onto my knees, I crawl to the edge of the mattress. His shoulders are tense, and he won’t look at me.

Cautiously, I climb off the bed and go to him. “It’s okay.” I try to keep my voice soothing, but my body hasn’t caught up to the fact that he needs me. “I’m okay,” I say, trying to reassure him.

With my heart hammering, I gently place a hand on his arm but he’s quick to rip it away and stalk to the bathroom, leaving me with a pounding fear racing through my blood.

“Carter,” I say hesitantly, but he doesn’t respond to me at all.

The question is clear in my mind, go to him or let him be? I’m still catching my breath and waking up as I push my hair from my hot face, registering what just happened.

If I’ve ever seen a man who shouldn’t be left alone, it’s Carter. He’s too broken, and there’s no telling what he’ll do.

“Was it just a nightmare?” I ask him innocently, wanting him to give me anything. I can feel the rug end and the wood begin as I walk toward him in the dark.

He flicks on the light in the bathroom and runs the water. And I walk toward the sound and strip of light from the bathroom that guides me.

“Carter?” I ask him softly as I push the bathroom door open and see his back to me again. His muscles ripple as he washes his face.

“Please, talk to me,” I whisper weakly when he still doesn’t answer me. Even after he’s dried off his face. “Are you okay?”

I can see him swallow in the mirror. I can see the weary expression of a man who’s led a horrible life. The fatigue in his eyes. The pain etched in the faint scars on his back.

He presses his palms to his eyes and breathes in and out. “Go to bed,” he commands in a harsh tone I don’t expect, although, I don’t leave as asked.

My heart squeezes with pain. I won’t leave him like this. “I don’t want to,” I tell him with barely any courage, the words coming out shaky.

“What happened?” I ask him in a comforting whisper. “It was just a dream,” I tell him, hoping they’ll have more comfort for him than those words do for me.

For the first time, he looks at me in the mirror, and the sight of him sends a chill down my spine. The power, the anger, the man who rules and gives no mercy expecting none in return, pierces me with his gaze.

“Don’t tell anyone.” His words are soft and they hang in the air with a threat. An unneeded and ridiculous threat.

“Tell anyone what?” I question his sanity at this moment, only to realize he doesn’t want me to tell anyone that he had a nightmare. “I wouldn’t. I would never.” My words come out quickly as tears prick my eyes. “That’s not why I’m here, Carter.”

“Go to bed,” he tells me again, although this time his words are softer.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, taking another small step toward him, but still not sure if I should touch him. All I want to do is hold him, pull him close to me and tell him it’s all right. Just like the way he’s held me over the past few weeks. But I don’t even know what happened.

With his grip on the edge of the sink and his head lowered, his voice comes out quietly and nearly menacing but more than that, heart-wrenching.

“Look at me, Aria.” He speaks to me in the mirror, his eyes bloodshot as they stare back at me. “Look at who I am. Nothing about me is okay.”

I stand there shaking, my words and breath caught by the intensity of the man in front of me. Even as he turns off the light, leaving me in darkness as he walks around me, his skin barely grazing mine, I tremble. His pace is ruthless as he leaves me, slamming the door and I’m left stunned and shaken. More than anything, I’m saddened by everything that just happened and so aware of how alone I am as I cry myself to sleep.