Page 20

Chapter 19

Zach

Merci’s retreating figure is a blur as I follow him. I had no idea what he’d gone through growing up. But it’s not just his past that’s got my insides all chaotic. It’s how he mentioned falling for me.

Sure, he accused me of using it as another way to hurt him. But am I someone he wants to be with?

Me?

I scan the area frantically, a heavy pressure building in my chest from something I can’t name. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s desperation. I spot him near a cluster of shrubs at the edge of the sidewalk, bent over and retching, his hands braced on his knees. The pink remnants of his milkshake splatter onto the ground, steam rising in the frigid air.

His body trembles as another wave of vomiting hits. My heart beats wildly as I rush over and crouch beside him, my hand hovering near his back, unsure whether to touch him. "What’s wrong? "

Merci wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his breathing ragged. "I hate myself. Hate that I am the way that I am. Hate I almost killed you." His voice cracks, tears streaming down his face. "And what I hate most is that I became a monster just like my father the day I pushed you down the stairs."

The sight of him falling apart, seeing the raw pain etched across his features, triggers something primal and protective in me that wants to take away his pain. “Merci, look at me.”

His watery lavender eyes meet mine, and the agony in them is a knife to the gut. "Maybe he locked me in the freezer because he saw blackness in me, knew I was evil."

The world tilts, my vision tunneling, and I snap. "You are anything but evil, Little Scorpion.” The words come out in a deep, dominant growl that surprises me. “If you were, you wouldn’t give two shits about what you did."

He shakes his head, lips trembling as he wraps his arms around himself. "I get why you hate me."

Reaching out, I lift his chin up, forcing him to meet my gaze. "I don't hate you." The pressure in my chest increases. "But there's more to everything than just my arm."

His brows furrow. "W-what do you mean?"

"I have brain damage. Insular cortex damage, to be precise." The words feel heavy on my tongue, like lead weights I've been carrying for too long. "It happened when I was little. Makes it hard for me to process emotions, to read people."

Merci’s eyes widen, his mouth parting slightly. "That’s what Mom meant when she said you were . . . different ."

I nod. "It's also why Viktor was drinking my milk. The damage affects how food tastes. Or doesn't taste at all."

His nose scrunches up. "Still don't like it."

A low chuckle escapes me. "He’s my friend. Get used to it."

Merci rolls his eyes and huffs. “ Great . Should I be prepared for him to share all the deets of your sexual history too?”

“I’m well aware of your history with Raiyne.”

He narrows his eyes, lips pursed. “You fucked him too, jerkface. And you went psycho when I wore his jersey.”

My jaw clenches, molars grinding. “Didn’t fuck him, though sounds like you did.”

He deflates, and he pales, taking a step backward.

Fuck.

Is he about to puke again?

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I take a deep breath. If this is all going to shit anyway, might as well put all my cards on the table.

"I never really socialized much growing up. But when you and your mom moved in, everything changed. I was having difficulty processing it, so I went to a party. Thought maybe it’d help." My fingers curl into fists inside my pockets, nails digging into my palms. "Someone I’d played against in hockey was there. He knew about my food issues . . . and switched out my beer with piss. I couldn’t tell the difference."

Merci’s entire body goes rigid, his features scrunching as his face turns red. “That fucking piece of shit. What’s his name? I swear, I’ll—”

A small, lopsided smile tugs at my lips, fascinated by how he bristles like an angry cat, all fire and protectiveness. My little scorpion, ready to sting anyone who hurts me. It makes something warm swirl in my gut. “You’re a possessive little shit when you’re mad.”

His cheeks flush a deeper shade of red. “Shut up.”

“Maybe I need to collar you permanently. Keep you on a leash. Or do I actually need to invest in a muzzle.”

He whines, the sound high-pitched and indignant. A second later, he shakes his head and purses his lips. “You’re such an asshole.”

"Anyway, that's why I was crying. I don’t really do that and couldn’t figure out how to make it stop, so I got frustrated. Then you walked into my room . . .”

He takes my hand into his, intertwining it with mine. “Our parents should have given us the details about our issues instead of generalizing them. Maybe none of this would’ve happened then.”

I don’t disagree with him. And while this conversation is important, more concerning is his shivering frame and the blue tinge to his lips. “You’re freezing. We need to get you inside.”

“I’m fine.”

His chattering teeth say otherwise.

"Inside. Now.” I step closer. "Besides, you still need to be punished for that stunt in the cafeteria."

His eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms.

"He's been watching out for me for years." I run my thumb along his bottom lip. "So, ease up."

Merci huffs, his breath fogging in the cold air as he leans into my touch. "Fine. But only because I’m taking over now."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." His eyes flash with defiance, even as he shivers. "Got a problem with that?"

I lean in close, my lips brushing against his ear. "Only that you think you're in charge here, Little Scorpion."

“Well, maybe I am.” He sticks his tongue out at me, then turns and runs toward his dorm.

Shaking my head, I follow him at a more measured pace even though my heart is slamming against my ribcage.

Merci wants to take care of me .

Me.

My own mother couldn’t deal with my needs. She walked away without so much as a backward glance. And my father? There’s a wall between us, this unspoken distance that’s as isolating as it is confusing.

Viktor’s the only one who ever cared enough.

Until now.

Thing is . . . I want to care for Merci too. Want to protect him. Possess him.

Make him mine.