Lords of Mercy by Angel Lawson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Angel Lawson
- Language: English
- Genre: Gothic Romances
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
STORY
I ’ to look at the clock to know it’s after midnight. The noises
of the old LDZ brownstone keep their own time, from the sound of Ms.
Crane’s curses echoing down the hallway to the thumping bass of the
weekly frat parties. But those sounds have faded. It’s Thanksgiving break
and most of the frat boys have gone home for the week. Ms. Crane is
asleep, so it’s just me and my Lords here, filling the dead brick walls with
our own signature signs of life. The most telling signal of time is my Lords.
They’re restless.
The most present is the shadow crisscrossing beneath my bedroom door,
punctuated by the rhythmic creak of the hallway’s hardwood floor. It’s as
symbolic as the chiming grandfather clock down in the library.
My stepbrother is pacing outside my locked door, as he is every night,
hoping, wishing, preying.
Three weeks ago, we amended our contract. It was a long morning, and
I spent most of it stony-faced and refusing to back down from my requests.
The Lords spent it pulling at their hair and gnashing their teeth, and slowly
—so slowly that I knew I was being taken seriously—accepting the terms
that would cement my place here once again.
No more cameras or creeping into rooms uninvited, no more clothing or
food demands. No more punishments. The topic of sex was most difficult
for me. I’m not so lacking in self-awareness to think I’ll never be willing.
But the things that happened to me—things they did to me—things I was
forced to do…
It has to be on my terms, when I’m ready.
They may have agreed to my demands enough to put pen to paper, but
that doesn’t stop Killian from pacing outside my door, testing the lock,
prodding at my makeshift boundaries to see if tonight’s the night I’ve
lowered them. I know more than anyone that if he wanted in, he could snap
that lock with nothing but a twist, and I wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing
about it. To my surprise, he hasn’t. Not yet.
Killian’s never been big on virtue, but patience, least of all of them.
That much is obvious from the way he’s itching to get back on the football
field despite still being in recovery from the gunshot wound to his gut. Or
the way he, Tristian, and Dimitri keep running over vague, vengeful plans
to get back at whoever planned the hit.
Ted. Ted planned the hit—whoever he even is.
I roll on my back and stare at the ceiling—or rather, the floor of
Tristian’s room. I know for certain he isn’t up there, because I can hear him,
too.
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