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chest.
    Shame to have to destroy such a beautiful body. A strange emotion crawled through her as she stared at his handsome face. It poked at her with sharp claws, ripping her apart from the inside. It almost tasted like regret.
    Did she have to kill him? Was it truly mercy she granted? Or had she made a mistake? Again.
    The questions stole her self-confidence until the urge to plunge the knife into her own chest was almost too powerful to stop.
    Mercy turned the bloody knife until the ice-cold tip pricked the bare skin of her exposed chest. She could join him in eternal peace. End her suffering. Grant herself the mercy she gave him.
    But what about all the others who needed her? Who would grant them mercy and release them from the evils of this harsh world if she were gone? No one. They’d be all alone and suffering. Like she’d been. So many still needed her.
    Mercy should not be denied.

CHAPTER 3

    N IALL G RAHAM FISTED his hands at his throbbing temples. The numbers on the ancient computer screen mocked him. They fucking laughed at him. Or they would have, if spreadsheets could laugh.
    Unbelievable. He’d nearly died in Afghanistan to come home to a disaster guaranteed to do what the insurgents hadn’t. Kill him. Only this death would be painfully slower and it involved his family’s money.
    His grandmother’s restaurant was so far into the red, he wasn’t sure he could afford to keep the doors open another month. Sure, the money coming in should have had his business in the black, but the cost of the lease on the new building on the prime piece of Tidewater real estate drained the account faster than it could be replenished. A building his brother had rented at an exorbitant cost without consulting Niall. Now they were locked into a two-year contract in one of the most expensive parts of Tidewater that wasn’t even on the beach. Only the luxurious Oceanfront area went for more money.
    Niall cleared the cell on the spreadsheet, reentered the figures, then hit sum. The figures were right and seriously jacked up. How in the hell was he going to get the business out of this mess and profitable again?
    â€œHiya, Niall.” His younger brother Ross sauntered into the room. Calm and carefree, as fucking usual. “How’re the numbers? Did I tell ya or did I tell ya? This place has been booming since we opened the doors. Location, man. It’s all about location. Since we moved, we’ve been able to double our prices. I admit, it was hard at first because we did it in the off-season, but now, the money’s coming. Just like I said it would.”
    â€œAnd we’ve lost the atmosphere of the old Boxing Cat,” Niall couldn’t help but point out.
    Ross waved a hand dismissively. “You’re worried because the Boxing Cat’s clientele went from surfers to bankers? That’s called progress, my brother.”
    â€œProgress? You still dress like a surfer.”
    Ross tossed a careless glance over his attire and shrugged, a happy expression on his face.
    The boy’s long blond hair hung in a ponytail trailing over one shoulder of his imported, green Hawaiian shirt. A shirt he left unbuttoned to reveal a white tank top that barely met the board shorts at his bony hips. And he didn’t even bother to wear real shoes to work. Instead, he sported his open-toed Birkenstocks that begged for a major toe-amputating accident. He definitely did not fit in with the clientele he claimed improved the business.
    Niall’s thoughts must have shown on his face because Ross said, “Bro, lighten up. I may dress like a beach bum, but my business mind is sound. The changes we’re making are going to rocket the Boxing Cat into being the best in town. Speaking of changes, Virgil’s loving this. He’s been able to try out some of his more exotic dishes. And it doesn’t hurt that we’re the only restaurant in town that serves gluten free on a daily