Page 32 of Stockholm (Angel of Mercy #1)

The Kept

A s crazy as it sounds, we start to fall into a comfortable routine. Everything that happened on my anniversary changed how I felt in the house. I’m still locked into my room each night by Noah, and I can feel his eyes on me when I’m stuck in there through the cameras. He likes watching me.

Wild, but I like to know that he is.

Aside from that, things are drastically different.

In the morning, my door is unlocked and I’m allowed to spend the day on the first floor of the house.

For what feels like a hunting cabin, the place is pretty spacious.

It’s got kind of an open concept thing going on, so for the most part I’m still being watched by someone, but if I ignore that, it’s like having a long sleepover with Bo.

I’d filled him in hushed tones the morning after Noah had touched me. I’d expected his sharp condemnation—after all he’s family to Eric—but instead his eyes widened and his smile grew.

“I knew it,” he hissed, causing Noah and Jesse to look in our direction until I smacked him in the arm. Noah smirked, and I’m sure he’d guessed what we’re talking about.

My face had flamed.

“This isn’t a good thing. How am I any better than Eric I…cheated?” My brow furrows at my own question. Eric hadn’t just cheated, he’d been with underage girls. Nothing I do would ever put us on the same morality level.

“Easy. Fuck him. Blood doesn’t mean I owe him a blind loyalty, Em. And he didn’t just cheat. What we know now is that he was a pig, and you’ve always deserved better.” He points behind him to where Noah stands. “ That’s what better looks like, by the way.”

I realize how comfortable I’ve gotten with Jesse and Noah when other men from Mercy show up the next day, carrying bags into the kitchen.

It’s easy to forget that this house really belongs to a mercenary group.

The fact that they exclusively take contracts on the worst men in society doesn’t take away from the fact that these men are intimidating.

It also cements in my mind that they look at Noah and Jesse as their superiors. Noah’s dad seems to be at the top, his direct family members right below him.

A pair of men named Patrick and Landon seem to show up almost every day.

Patrick, the older man, chats with them in lowered voices, often bringing files and other important looking things.

The younger man he rides with carries in bags or requested items, and seems to take everything much less seriously than his partner.

“So this is the girl everyone’s in a row about. I’ve heard so much about you,” he said one day after dropping grocery bags on the kitchen island. His eyes had seemed friendly enough and I’d returned a small, nervous smile while Bo’s brow had furrowed at the interaction.

He turned my head back to him with his hand under my chin. “Don’t look at him, he’s not supposed to talk to you.”

“What? He seems nice. And that bag looks like it has stuff in it for us.”

“Hey, what did I say? Eyes off. Go grab the rest of the shit out of the car,” Patrick snapped toward the front door.

Landon put his hands up. “Just being friendly.”

Noah’s eyes burned on me and I turned away, not wanting to get the man into any trouble.

One of the bags that day contained new clothes for me. Noah had brought them up that night and set them on my dresser, and I’d almost squealed with delight at opening them.

Underwear? A luxury I’d forgotten about, not feeling totally open and vulnerable constantly or exposed every time I climbed the spiral staircase. Some shorts and t-shirts were inside, as well as the coziest looking pajama sets.

Still no shoes, but I’ll take what I can get.

If he had stayed a moment longer, I’d almost have spun around to kiss Noah with excitement, a thank you for deciding to provide me with the comfort of actual clothing . But he’d disappeared without touching me, something that became a theme over the following week.

After what he’d done to me before—coaxing me into a wrecking orgasm with just a few fingers and the words he’d filled the air with—there’s been nothing .

No contact at all, and despite all the reasons it shouldn’t, I’m a little hurt.

Had he hated that moment with us? Did he regret it?

Maybe something about me had turned him off.

He catches me watching him more and more, and I know I’m not imagining the electricity that zings under my skin when our eyes lock.

The tension that thickens the air at the dinner table when we’re so close to each other, or when he reaches over my shoulder to place another gorgeous dinner plate in front of me.

He eyes me as I eat, never excusing me until my food is gone.

But nothing more than that.

Two days before my birthday, I’m hiding out with Bo in his room when Jesse shows up, holding the latest delivery.

I’ve warmed to Jesse, my nerves soothed by watching how he treats my best friend. There’s a reverence in the way Jesse looks at Bo, evident in the habit he has of kissing the top of Bo’s head absentmindedly. Bo deserves it, this tie between them.

“I come bearing presents,” he says and I peek over, thinking for a moment that it’s in reference to my looming birthday, but he hands the bag to Bo. Of course. We barely know each other, and I’ve never shared my birthdate.

“For you, Bohdi.” Bo rolls his eyes, but I know he really loves the silly nicknames Jesse bestows upon him.

He takes the bag and looks inside, eyes bright when he looks to where I’m laying on the bed on my stomach, feet kicking in the air.

“Score, Em!” He dumps the contents on the blanket between us and a large pile of snacks falls to the comforter.

Bo’s got a huge sweet tooth, always has. This is basically gold to him, and he dives into the pile, sorting it out and waving some of his favorites excitedly in my face. It makes me smile to see him so carefree, even though I don’t totally understand it.

Jesse steps up behind him, watching me as he puts his hands on Bo’s shoulders and squeezes.

Slowly he slides them down his back and continues over to his sides to run along his ribcage.

They come to rest on his hips and grip snugly.

Bo shivers and his eyes grow heavy, the Marshmallow treat in his hand almost forgotten.

“Just want to make sure you’re happy,” Jesse says, placing his mouth below Bo’s ear and sucking on it as he eyes me. “There’s a bag for you too, princess,” he says, lowering another one in between me and Bo.

My eyes widen, taking it and sitting up as Jesse sucks his way down Bo’s neck, keeping his tight grip on his hips.

Bo leans back into Jesse’s hard chest, giving him more access, which makes Jesse grin.

His green hair falls into his eyes as he looks over Bo’s shoulder to take in his expression.

“Fuck, you make me hard when you look like this.”

I blush, focusing on the bag as Bo smacks his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up, everyone doesn’t need to know every time you get an erection,” Bo chastises, shaking him off his shoulder as Jesse laughs into his ear. A smile stretches over his face as he nips at Bo’s earlobe, growling into it.

My throat clenches when I see what’s inside the bag. “Jesse…you didn’t have to do this.” I manage to say, eyes pricking with emotion at the boxed set he’s purchased for me. “How did you know I’d like this?”

He smirks at me. “I got a hint from your collection at home. Saw you had three different versions of this one.”

In my lap is my favorite book series, one I’ve dove into repeatedly throughout my life. Its pages are endlessly comforting. Having the hardbacks in my arms feels like getting a piece of myself back.

Plus they’re so pretty. This set must have been expensive .

“Thank you,” I say, tracing the beautiful special edition watercolor cover art. “I’m sure this wasn’t cheap.”

“Money well spent,” he says nonchalantly. “On both of you.” He yanks back on Bo’s curls to capture his mouth in a heated kiss.

I’ve gotten used to the constant PDA, what’s new is that it stirs something inside me. The same feeling Noah had stoked in me the other night. Having it attached to my best friend is new, and I try to smother it. What has come over me here? I’ve never been so…easily turned on.

It’s wrong. Just like it’s wrong for me to think about Noah or to wish he would put his hands back on me. It’s wrong for me to watch Jesse and Bo and daydream about when Bo had been on his hands and knees, crawling in-between Jesse’s open legs.

But I can’t stop thinking about it. What that must have felt like for Bo, letting this insanely gorgeous man talk him into submitting. With an audience. To have that man worship him for obeying.

It’s lodged in my head like a bullet.

After thoroughly enjoying Jesse’s attention, he breaks the kiss, looking at me with something like guilt in his eyes. “Sorry, I know you probably don’t want to watch this all the time. I told him to cool it when we aren’t alone.”

Jesse scoffs, somehow getting even closer. Flicking his tongue out over his lips as he eyes me. “I think you're wrong about that, Bo. I think she would very much like to watch more of this.”

My eyes widen, frozen like I always am when Jesse’s attention finds me. Something about him intimidates me in a way that Noah doesn’t. There’s a wildness to him that even Noah can’t seem to put a muzzle on.

He’s not necessarily a bad guy, though I know logically he is. He’s just going to do exactly as he wishes, regardless of what other people in the room might want. Regardless of what Bo might want.

“Don’t have a heart attack, princess. I promise I’ll wait to fuck him in front of you until you’re nice and ready,” Jesse says, a sultry tone entering his voice that he uses to tease us .

“Oh my god,” Bo mutters under his breath, looking at me imploringly. “I’m sorry, please ignore him.”