I don’t dare use Finneas’s key to the cells now that he’s back. My lips purse, and I dip my hand into my pocket, fingering the one that I’d pilfered from my father’s room. I refuse to abandon her. Because now, even more than before, coming off of the Hunting, I’m worried for her. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
The sound of the door on the main floor opening, followed by feet clomping down the stairwell, has me sucking in a breath and shifting backward until I’m tucked away in the pitch-black corner near the door’s hinge. Should whoever that is come this way, I might be fucked. Cocking my head, I strain to hear the direction the footsteps are taking, and at first, I let out a stuttered, relieved exhale when they lead away from me.
But then, I shift to peer through the razor-thin gap between the door and frame… only to spot Kiefer’s broad back heading toward the cells.Fuck. My fists curl into tight balls of restraint, shaking with the effort it takes to maintain my position. To wait.
Several seconds pass as my heart rate climbs. Finally, I can no longer stand the unknown. Pushing out of the pantry, I curse the creak of the hinges, then on quiet feet, I cross the room, stopping at the door. It’s open a fraction.
What I hear on the other side doesn’t do anything to calm my nerves. My jaw clamps down so hard my teeth ache. The low rumble of Kiefer’s voice is bitingand cruel. “Got yourself in deep water tonight, huh?” A few seconds go by, and he lets loose a soft, darkly amused chuckle. “But you won’t do that again.”
There’s a rustling, followed by a feminine gasp. “No. Don’t.”
“Sure you want to risk opening that bitch mouth of yours when I didn’t invite you to speak?” He pauses, almost as if waiting for her to answer. She doesn’t. His taunt is met with silence. I close my eyes, listening to the whisper of fabric and the quietly gasped exhales and something that sounds like a choked sob. It’s tearing me apart to have to stand here and listen. But I won’t leave her. Not now. Kiefer snickers softly. “Oh that’s unfortunate. From the feel of it, I don’t think anyone got the job done tonight, did they?” He pauses a beat before adding, “No one put their seed inside this tight little cunt. Definitely not. I can tell.”
A barely-there whimper drifts to me, and my heart clenches. Visions of him with his hand under her dress, fingers inside her accost me, nearly sending me busting in to interrupt.Fuck. Shit. My entire body shakes, and I lift my fist to my mouth, biting down.
In my mind’s eye, I can see the prick’s smirk. Know what he’s about to do. I’m positively vibrating with rage when the sound of his zipper lowering reaches my ears, and he continues, “I’ll have to take care of that. We don’t waste opportunities around here.”
My hands dive into my hair, tugging hard as I listen to the sounds of the struggle between them. A growled grunt. A whimper.No.This. Is. Agony.
The soft scuffling of bare feet coming down the hallway from one of the bedrooms sends thunder through my veins. I don’t want to leave Delilah, but the idea that I’m about to be discovered lurking where I shouldn’t be spurs me into action. I dart back to my earlier hiding place, thankful the women keep the cellar tidy, and I have a clear path in the dark. I’ve only just ducked into the pantry and haven’t even gotten a chance to fully close the door when I catch sight of Twenty-One tiptoeing toward the cell hallway. My brows knit together as I watch her hover, listening.
What in the fuck?There’s something about her furtive movements that sets me on edge. There’s no reason for her to be anywhere near the cells. Except… she’s very much interested in Kiefer. I don’t think she’s aware anyone notices, but I have. She watches him every day with lustful eyes.
“Father?” At that one hissed word, my gaze darts from Twenty-One, frozen in place, to the source of the voice. It comes again. “Are you down there? Henry is back. He’s looking for you.” It’s Gannon. Considering the hour, he’s being obnoxiously loud.
Twenty-One scrambles, skidding to her knees behind the table, her back to me. The reason for her hurry becomes apparent only a few seconds later when Kiefer appears, smugness oozing from him. It turns my stomach. In a few strides, he crosses to the stairs and disappears.
A breath of relief shudders through me. After the door at the top of the stairwell clicks shut, Twenty-One rises from her crouched position. It would seem that whatever she’d intended to do, she’s changed her mind, and pads back the way she came.
I don’t waste any more time questioning her behavior and instead quietly return to my previous post outside the cell hallway, only this time, I step through the doorway and blink into the ominous void.
Sounds of distress echo from the stone prison as I edge closer. Every step brings an additional risk, but my heart thrums with the need to be near my siren. This is agony. I’m torn.Do I dare go to her?Is it worse to stay away?
The smallest of whimpers seals my fate. It reaches inside my soul and threatens to yank it free. I no longer have a choice. “Twenty—” My mouth snaps shut, cutting off the remainder of the number we assigned to her—one I refuse to use any longer. “It’s me, siren.” I stop outside her cell and peer inside. She’s no longer on the blanket where we left her. My eyes strain, searching the pitch-black corner. Sure enough, she’s there, huddled in a ball, rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped around her legs and head bowed.
Lowering to my knees on the cold stone, I simply watch her as I wait for my vision to acclimate. I hope she knows I’m here, but even more so that my presence might offer some degree of comfort. I would do anything for her. Because this girl, she does help me without even being aware how much.
“Delilah,” I gasp out, each syllable rasping up from the deepest parts of me.
Just when I think she’s set on ignoring me, her lithe limbs begin to move. At first, she covers her face with her hands, but then she peeks from behind them. Her voice is scratchy and hoarse as she murmurs, “Arrow, why are you here?” Those words are spoken so softly, for a moment, I assume my mind is playing tricks on me.
“I told you I’d come back”—my breath hitches—“and I meant it.” Heat rushes through me at the way her gaze roams my face. But then, she tears her attention from me and lowers her head to her knees. A flicker of something wild and ravenous lights in my chest, torment gripping me. “Did he—?” Fuck. I’m unable to even finish the question. I know what he said to her. I know what I heard. And I certainly am aware of what the Collective’s goal during the Hunting was. My lungs shrivel in my chest, like they’re so fucking disappointed in me that they’re unwilling to draw in another breath.
“I don’t know if he…finished.”Her sad chuckle squeezes at my heart. “You shouldn’tbehere,” she whispers.
I let out an aggrieved breath. “And I can’t not be.” Hesitating only a second, I reach into my pocket, feeling for the key, and get to my feet. It irritates me that I can hardly see her. I need?—
“That’s sweet and all, but what makes you think I want you anywhere near me?” With her jaw locked tight, she looks up and shakes her head, eyes following my every movement in the dark. “Do you honestlythink you’re any better than the rest of them?” There’s a sharpness to her voice. An anger.
Earlier, I swear she trusted us. At least to a certain degree. I exhale heavily. She begged us not to abandon her. And then we did. Maybe leaving her to the whims of this compound’s insanity is as bad as being the aggressors. Fucking Finneas. Fucking Kiefer. Fucking Dragan. She has every right to be questioning me and my motives.
For several agonizing seconds, she simply stares at me, but then, her eyes crash shut, and she covers her face with both hands again. Her breathing is ragged, and the way she’s struggling—Fuck.I feel as if I’m torturing her just by being here. I scrub my face in frustration. “Delilah, I’m sorry.”
Somewhere in my head, an idea worms its way free. If I can justshowher that I’m here for her. That I’d never hurt her. Not on purpose, anyway. I slip the key into the lock, tug the cage open, and step inside. As if I were approaching a wounded animal, I move slowly, giving her time to understand that she needs not fear me. Once I’m closer, I still don’t have a clue what the right thing to do is or even what my intention is. But I need to dosomething,so I squat and hold out my hands to her.
The shield of her hands drops, and what I know are brilliant blue eyes flick to mine, wary. There’s a sheen to them. Tears. I bite back an oath. All I want to do is pull her into my arms and hold her. Make everything that happened go the fuck away. I’m nearly outof my head with uncertainty and swallow past the hard lump in my throat, hoping she doesn’t flip the fuck out and punch me in the eye again. “Sit with me.”
At this range, the tremble of her lips is an undeniable indicator of just how close she is to breaking down. Eyeing me, she heaves out a disbelieving breath. “Tell me the truth, Arrow. Did that maniac send you in here to finish the job? I bet they were pretty disappointed that I didn’t just lie down and spread my legs for the first of you to catch me.”
