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

If only Carter would let me call my father or go to him. My skin pricks with goosebumps that won’t leave and the constant chill I feel is at odds with the heat boiling my blood.

I can convince my father that there’s another way.

I heard what he said. The message for me. He was speaking in code. He’s coming. In only hours, my father is coming for me.

Stay quiet while I’m gone and stay in your room.

My father would tell me that before leaving for the night when we were on lockdown, but only when he would be gone for a few hours. If it was any longer than that, he’d have me go to the safe house.

There’s no way those words were a coincidence. I’m sure of it. He wouldn’t have said it if he wasn’t coming for me. He wouldn’t have said those words if something wasn’t happening by tonight.

My heart hasn’t stopped racing. My throat is tight with guilt and fear. It can’t happen like this. I don’t know exactly what he’s planning, but those are words said in times of war. Something bad is going to happen. I know it. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. It’s going to change everything.

I can do something. But I need time that I don’t have.

Pacing up and down the corridor to Carter’s wing in the estate, I try to formulate an excuse for my father or a reason that would justify Carter not reacting to my father’s threats. I can’t go into the bedroom and just wait. I refuse to simply stand by.

The conversation that was just had on the phone repeats itself over and over again in my head and I start to debate if I heard my father right.

Tension squeezes my chest so tightly I can’t breathe.

After days, my father decides to come. After weeks of me being missing, he’s finally coming for me. And there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

My hands are shaking horribly, and it does nothing but piss me off. Forming a fist, I slam it into the wall. How could he do this to me?

Both of them.

Carter’s not innocent. He knew that conversation would piss my father off. He was goading him, practically laughing in my father’s face.

And I took pleasure in it.

Every bit of that pleasure I wanted. There’s something sick and twisted about how I craved Carter pushing me to the edge while my father spat hate at him.

Carter has proven there’s a side to me that desires depravity and a sense of justice that’s sinful and warped.

I should have known better. We were playing with fire but after weeks of being with Carter, of being his, of growing to love him made me feel invincible beside him.

I’ve always been foolish like that.

Brushing the hair away from my face, I rid myself of the regret and focus on the now and the present.

I have to tell Carter, but I don’t know how I can save my father if I do. And I know it won’t be my father coming. He won’t storm Carter’s castle. It’ll be hired men, or worse, Nikolai. Telling Carter will only ensure that his guns will be ready and whoever is coming will be killed before they even come close.

“Fuck.” The word slips from my lips in a strangled breath.

I was so full of hope, so eager to have this call happen, and instead, my worst nightmare has come to life. I’ve brought the war to me and to Carter’s doorstep.

A moment of clarity comes over me, and my eyes whip open.

I start moving before the thought is even clear.

He’s not in the office. Carter is not in the office where the phone is. And I don’t remember him locking the door.

I’m well aware that Carter has cameras everywhere, and that’s why I walk as if nothing’s wrong. My shoulders are square, and I try to keep my expression impassive even though tears prick at my eyes and my chest hiccups with the need to break down.

These men will kill me before they get a chance to kill each other.

The doorknob rattles under my grip, but it turns, and the door pushes open easily. I don’t waste any time, knowing Carter will come if he sees me, and I fall to my knees, gathering the phone still carelessly tossed on the floor from earlier.

My finger shakes as I press the buttons, but I do it. I grip the phone with both hands as I hold it to my ear and watch the door. If he doesn’t know already, he’ll know soon enough.

Ring, ring.

Every pause of the ring grips my heart harder.

My throat feels as if it’s closed up, clogged by something unseen when the call goes dead. Not unanswered, but dead.

Clank! I slam the phone down over and over again, just as Carter did before, feeling the heat of anxiety roll over my skin. My teeth are clenched as I slam it down again before bracing myself over the desk.

Deep breaths. I need to stay calm and find a way.

Not another second passes. Not another tense breath heaves from me before I pick up the phone and hit redial again.

To no avail.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, the clock on Carter’s office wall taunts me. Showing nearly fifty minutes have passed since Carter left me.

The only other number I know by heart is Nikolai’s. I don’t know if he would listen. Or if my father would listen to Nikolai. I don’t know anything for certain, but still, I dial in his number.

One number at a time.

And he doesn’t answer.

The phone goes to voicemail, but the inbox is full. A ball of barbed wire seems to unwind in my throat as hopelessness steals the breath from me. With every breath, I swallow more of it and it pains my chest. My fingers dig into my shirt right over my heart, gripping and trying to pull the spiked pain away. But it only grows.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

I try my father’s number again, putting it on speaker this time, giving up any pretense I had before. If Carter walks in, I’ll tell him everything. There’s not any other light of hope left in the dark clouds that settle around me.

With the sound of the dead tone coming from the phone, I set the phone down, politely resting it in its cradle, and collapse into Carter’s seat.

I try Carter’s computer. It’s password protected.

I type in Tyler. Rejected.

Cross. Rejected. I would try birthdays and old exes if I knew any. But I don’t have a damn thing to work with.

My mind wars with itself, the stakes growing higher and higher as the seconds pass. Pulling open his drawer and flipping through files I try to find anything that could hint at his password, but I come up with nothing.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

The clock plays tricks on me. An hour and a half has passed.

My pulse is so fast; I can’t hear anything else. I feel dizzy and lightheaded as I stand up and I have to brace myself to keep from falling over. The desk feels so cold and hard and the edges of it sharper than they did before.

I squeeze them so tightly that I think I may have cut myself but when I look down, there’s been no blood shed.

“I have to tell him,” I whisper to no one.

I can’t balance myself as I walk. I have to rest my head against the wall for only a moment to catch my breath and think of the right words to say, the only words to say.

My father is coming. Men are coming to kill you.

I fight back the rush of oncoming tears and force myself to move. Or maybe only to rescue me.

I shut the door behind me and take in a shuddering breath.

I walk down the hall toward the stairwell, feeling cold and numb.

Deep breaths, one foot in front of the other. That’s how I’ll end my father’s life and all those who stand with him. My cousins, my uncles. Nikolai.

God help me, please.

I pray as I grip the railing tightly and take each step carefully as my knees feel weaker.

Show me what to do. Please.

I’m halfway down the second set of stairs, toward the back half of the estate I never venture to, when I hear a gun cock. I freeze.

The sounds of a slap and a grunt mix with a cry of agony. My knees nearly buckle. They’re here.

I’m too late. No, please no.

“Fuck you.” I hear a voice I think belongs to one of my cousins and another hard smack as my knuckles go white from gripping the railing.

I can’t breathe as my bare feet pad on the cold floor and I sneak closer to where the voices are coming from. My heart is beating so loud, I think they’ll hear me.

How could I have let this happen?

How could Carter? The thought goes unfinished, but either way, my heart breaks.

“We’ll take it from here,” I hear Carter’s voice as I see the backs of two men leaving, walking out from an open doorway, and heading to the rear exit. Both dressed in black and carrying guns. Not handguns or pistols, but automatic weapons. I nearly fall backward on my ass trying to take cover in the closest doorway, so I go unseen.

The sound of metal scraping against the floor can only be guns being kicked away.

Guns and questioning. It’s an interrogation. My heart races and I struggle with what I can do to stop this.

“Where is she?”

Nikolai. I grip the wall, just around the corner from the front room where the voices carry from. The mix of adrenaline, fear, and betrayal riding through my veins in waves and overwhelming my ability to even think.

“I’ll ask again, nicely. What were your direct orders?” Jase’s voice is cold. Colder and harsher than I ever could have imagined. “Or did you not have any?”

I can barely breathe and when I do, it sounds so loud. My heart’s beating out of my chest when I peek around the corner, getting low to the ground and praying no one will see me.

“Did your boss really send you to your death on a whim? Six men against an army?”

I cover my mouth with both of my hands and nearly fall forward at the sight in front of me as I round the corner, the rushing of my blood drowns out the voices of the interrogation, but the sound of a gun smacking against skin and crashing into bone rings clearly.

With my eyes shut tightly and a sickness stirring in my stomach, I force my eyes open. I force myself to see everything.

Nikolai makes up one of the three. The other two are my cousins, Brett and Henry. They’re brothers and years older than me. We’ve shared every holiday. I was a bridesmaid in Brett’s wedding. Every event we’ve been to together for years flashes before my eyes as I see Brett spit blood onto the floor. The left side of his face is already bruised and the black chestplate of his armor is covered in blood.

My heart squeezes. I don’t want to see this. I can’t. I can’t watch, but I have to do something.

“We’re not telling you shit,” Brett sneers and Henry struggles next to him. With their wrists bound behind their backs, Henry sways. His right eye is swollen and that’s all I can see, but he’s not well.

What did they do to you? My heart bleeds at the question.

Jase and Declan have guns pointed at the back of their heads, with all three of them kneeling in a row in front of them.

“You want to join your friends sooner, rather than later?” Jase questions them.

I’ve never felt so betrayed. So sickened. Bile rises in my throat as my gaze drifts across the three men I’ve known all my life so close to their lives being over if only a trigger is pulled.

“Fuck you,” Nikolai grunts out, pulling my focus to him. Although he stares at Carter with nothing but hate, his eyes show his pain. And it’s my undoing.

The war has never felt so alive as it does now.

That’s when I see a light shine, directing my eyes to what matters.

Carter’s gun is tucked in the back of his pants. It’s staring right at me, the light from the room reflecting on it. And the guns on the floor behind him. Three guns and one I recognize as Nikolai’s.

He took their guns, he kicked them away from my family. And now they kneel in front of Jase and Declan, waiting for execution. The sound of a gun being cocked pushes me forward and leaves me no choice.

My hands shake as I crawl toward the guns. One scratches across the floor as I try to pick it up and I know at that point they see me. So, I do the only thing I can.

I point the gun at the enemy who doesn’t have a gun.

I stand on weak legs and grip the gun as tightly as I can. Aiming it at the back of Carter’s head. Knowing I’ve made a choice and hating myself for it but fueled by the need to protect my only friend and family.

“Carter,” I call out his name and feel the eyes of everyone else in the room on me as Carter turns slowly around to face me.

His eyes flash as he lets out a breath, but he doesn’t retreat, he doesn’t even seem to take me seriously. He looks at me the way you’d look at a child playing dress-up. Non-threatening and as if they’re simply being cute. It cuts me in a way I didn’t think was possible.

He really cares so little for me. He’s really going to kill them all and expects me to fall in line, obeying and submitting to his every whim.

As he steps toward me and I pull the trigger back even though my hands tremble, his expression morphs, and the damage I’ve done is so clear to me in this moment. His firm expression of disapproval and irritation changes to one I’ve never seen. A mask of hardness and sharpness that makes his chiseled features look even more dominating and villainous.

I can hear him breathe as he stops in his tracks. Everything about him is terrifying, save the look in his eyes. Those dark eyes with bright specks of silver still shine with something else. Hope, maybe? But it vanishes when I call out to him, feeling the tightness in my throat and chest squeezing the courage from me. “Let them go,” I force the words out and they come out strong. I don’t know how because at the moment I feel nothing but weak.

I feel like I failed the boy still hurting inside of Carter. I’ve lost the trust. I can see it as Carter’s eyes glaze over and the darkness overwhelms them. I’ve never hurt so much in my life as I do now, but what else was there for me to do? I’m in a hopeless situation and there’s no possible way for me to win.

My palms are so hot and tingling with the rush of adrenaline and mix of fear that controls my every move, and I nearly drop the gun but somehow, I hold it steady and keep it pointed on Carter.

“The girl we’ve all been waiting for,” Carter says without a change in his expression. No arrogant smile. Nothing but a menacing look of hatred and disgust.

His head tilts and he says a word low and deep in his throat that sends a sickening chill down my spine. “Talvery.”