Heartless

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

(Mercy POV)
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I wake to find Cyrus beside my bed. I'm​ so groggy lately I forget what times or day it even is. I do, however, remember having a nightmare where demonic looking men with guns chased me. I woke up by myself in a cold sweat, and it took me forever to fall back asleep. Time I spent obsessing over every single thing that's happened to me For a moment, I sit and watch him silently, he's looking down at his phone. Wait, his phone that coincidentally has a panda phone cover like mine. And a large crack right where mine does...

"Cyrus?" I ask.

He looks up at me, and I flinch when he closes the screen. Bones crunching. Tally charging. Gun shots... No, focus. His Brown eyes lock with mine, and I gulp. Talking to Cyrus Herrain never gets any easier, especially when day by day I'm exiting my pained, morphine haze, that made it so easy to talk to him.

"Is that my phone?" I ask.

"Yeah, we took it." He says.

"Why?" I ask.

"I had it combed through. I needed to know for sure, that you didn't have anything to do with this." He says.

For the first time since I was shot, I feel angry. It's an overwhelming anger. How dare he? Up until now, I'd mostly been feeling a mixture of fear, confusion and some relief. I'd been helpless, and grateful that Cyrus showed up when he did. That doesn't mean he can take my fucking phone and invade my privacy.

"What the actual fuck?" I ask him.

He raises an eyebrow, and I know I shouldn't venture much farther, but I do. I do because I'm Mercy, Mercy Arrstaton​, and you don't just go through my things. Especially while I'm lying in a bed, feeling like I'm dying. Feeling like my whole world's about to fall apart. Feeling more like a prisoner, than someone being protected. I put my hand out.

"Give me my phone." I tell him.

Cyrus gives me an amused look, glancing from my hand to my heated face. I don't waver though, and jump slightly when he reaches his hand out, and pushes mine back down. I retract my hand, holding it to my chest. I take a deep breath, watching him as he rises from his seat.

"Now, why would I do that?" He asks me.

"Because it's my fucking phone." I say.

"Why are you so upset?" He asks, coming closer to my bed.

Cyrus tries to make the question sound innocent, but it's clearly laced with suspicion. Suspicion. Seriously? Did the bullet in my fucking arm not prove anything?

"Upset? Why would I be upset? You're keeping watch on me like a prisoner. Then come to find out your looking through my phone. What else did you do? Look through my trash?" I ask.

He comes to stand right next to the bed, his expression dark. Tiny Tendrils of fear shoot through me as he stoops beside me.

"No one wants to be here, but I give just enough of a fuck to not let you get killed. So if I were you, I'd pipe down a fucking notch." Cyrus says.

His words hit me like a slap to the face. It's absolutely fucking right no one has to be here. Especially me. I push my covers down, shimmying out of them quickly.

"I'm leaving." I say, sitting up.

"Don't do that." He says, his heated expression evaporating.

I ignore him, holding on to my side and swinging my legs over the bed. I haven't walked much since I got shot, besides getting up to use the small bathroom. I look up at him, he stands in my way of getting up. I don't need his bullshit, I just got shot. How dare he be a fucking assface to me right now. After he violated my privacy.