“I’m sorry, Ophelia,” Derrick blurts. “There, I said it. I’m sorry.”
Cain hauls him up and spins him around so he’s facing me.
“Tell her to her face,” he demands.
“I’m sorry I disrespected your meal.”
“It’s okay,” I mutter. I don’t want this level of drama, and Cain is downright scaring me.
Cain shoves him back to the ground. “Now eat your food.”
What? I stare in total shock at what Cain is doing.
Derrick is on his hands and knees, and twists to look over his shoulder at Cain, trying to assess if he’s serious.
“Do it.” Cain plants his foot on his back, flattening him back to the ground. “Don’t make me say it again.”
Oh, my God.
Derrick reaches out and plucks a piece of dirt-covered pasta from the ground. His nose wrinkles in distaste, but he tosses it into his mouth and chews. I feel sick watching him eat, but also, despite knowing he’s acting crazy, there’s a warm glow at someone sticking up for me the way Cain has. It might be wrong, but part of me likes it far too much.
“Keep going,” Cain commands.
One by one, each piece of spilled pasta is picked up and eaten. No one steps in. Cain is in charge, and Derrick was stupid enough to put my food down in front of everyone. I don’t want the punishment to continue, but I also don’t want to get on the bad side of Cain. I haven’t seen this side of him often—if at all.
When Derrick has finished, Cain lets him up.
“Walk it off, dude,” Felix says, pulling his man to his feet and clapping him on the back.
Derrick isn’t stupid enough to do something dumb, so he just stuffs his hands in his pockets, ducks his head, and walks away.
Everyone else finishes their food without further comment, and quickly enough, the usual chatter replaces the awkward silence.
After we’ve all eaten and the men have cleaned up, we get ready for bed.
“Who is in the RV and who is in the tents?” I ask.
“The RV is safer,” Cain says. “Let the guards take the tents. They can watch for any signs of trouble.”
Daisy folds her arms across her chest. “I’m not sleeping in that tin can with the three of you.”
Cain narrows his eyes. “Yes, you are. It’s safer.”
“I grew up here,” she argues. “I’m perfectly safe.”
“Then what the fuck are we doing here?” he growls.
I have to step in and calm things down. “She saw the altar room before we left. She’s just a little freaked out by it, that’s all. Cut her some slack.”
He turns to me. “You want her sleeping out here with the guards?”
Is it my imagination, or did Daisy just shoot Deacon a look? No, she wouldn’t, would she? I’d like to tell myself that she’s too sweet and innocent to take off with a twenty-five-year-old hunk of muscle, but she’s seventeen and never even been kissed. As much as she preaches against sin, she’s still full of the same hormones that any other seventeen-year-old girl has roiling around her.
“Cain is right,” I tell her. “You’re sleeping in the RV with us. No arguments.”
She pouts but doesn’t fight back.
We pile into the RV. It’s completely dark now, so I’m grateful for the emergency lights dotted along the baseboards. It’s strange that we’ll be sleeping in the men’s beds, but they don’t seem to mind. I use the tiny bathroom space and change in there too, into a strappy top and matching sleep shorts. I’ll be warm all snuggled up with Roman.
