DELILAH
I haveno clue what fucking time it is, but I’ve seen very few people all day. Eight was outside earlier to collect eggs. She’d hardly given me any notice at all, like she’d been told to avoid me. Or maybe she’s just smart and would rather steer clear of the trouble I’ve found since being brought here.
I’d also caught sight of someone departing from the front of the building a little while ago, but they’d been a good distance away, so I can’t be certain who it was. If I had to guess based on the group that left early this morning, it was probably the doctor.
My stomach rumbles. I couldn’t eat much of anything after Twenty-One spat on my breakfast tray. My tongue pokes out to wet my cracked, dry lips. I’ve just gotten past the dehydration of spending those long days lost in the woods. I hope things don’t get that bad ever again. Even when they kept me in the cell, they’dstill attempted to feed me. But now, I’m not so certain how things are going to go.
Since the nourishment of our bodies is so fucking important to them, it would have been great if they’d sent my morning meal with someone who would safely deliver it to me. But what do I know? And am I really trying to get insight into how the brains of these people tick? I shudder hard. In fact, if I could rewind time and never find this place, I’d do it in a second. Nothing could make me want to stay, and if the opportunity arises, I will be outta here. Death out in the woods would be preferable to this torture.
I let out a ragged sigh, trying to readjust myself. My body aches with the knowledge that I’ve been here for interminable hours. The rope that binds me to this tree isn’t especially tight, but it’s secure enough that I’m only wasting time and precious energy with every futile attempt at tugging myself free. There’s no way I’m escaping unless someone chooses to let me loose. Squinting upward, I search for any glimpse of a glow through the nasty-looking cloud cover. No luck. By my estimation, it could be midday or later, but it’s difficult to say without being able to track the movement of the sun. A wicked shiver runs along my limbs as the wind ruffles my hair.
A moment later, a door banging shut in the distance drags my attention away from my musings. The knowledge that someone is nearby sends hope thundering in my heart, but fear also rears its ugly head, causing adrenaline to spike. It’s too bad runningis an impossibility. My head whips toward the building, searching for whoever has exited.
To my immediate consternation, I recognize the figure with a basket propped on her hip. Twenty-One glances this way before setting it down near the clothing line. What’s she up to? I close my eyes for a second, wishing she’d turn right back around. Whatever she’s doing, I want no part of it, but no such luck.Here she comes.Ever so slowly, she wanders toward me, smiling to herself all the while. There is something just… off about this woman. She does a quick check of the area before holding up a metal canteen and something wrapped in a cloth napkin.
My mouth immediately waters. Is that for me?
“Hungry?” she says quietly as she raises a brow.
I blink, shocked once again that she’s chosen to speak to me, though there’s literally no one to witness it. Why she would risk it is beyond me, as I’ve been reminded over and over again what the rules are.
With a pursed lip, I nod before quickly answering. “Yes.” My exhale unsteady, I fidget against the rough bark of the tree while her eyes slide down my naked body. She tries to cover a chuckle by turning and staring off into the trees. I swear, she’s just…not right.Tipping her head to one side, those intensely probing green eyes stare at me as she takes way too long considering what to do next. “I suppose if you’ve been tied up, there’s no way you’ve been near Kiefer, so maybe I can let you have this.”
I stare wide-eyed at her. Not the Kiefer thing again.Is this bitch crazy?She carefully unfolds the cloth, showing me the sandwich inside. Despite my misgivings about the girl offering it, my stomach practically punches through my abdomen to grab it out of her hands.
“I want nothing to do with Kiefer.”
She chews on the inside of her cheek while we engage in a battle of wills. It’s almost as if she’s trying to find the lie in what I’ve said. “What went on in the gathering room after they let you out of your cage this morning?”
I blink, eyes piercing hers, and implore her to believe me. Choosing my words carefully, I murmur,“Nothingthat happened in that room was anything I asked for, the same as all the other bullshit that I’ve endured. Trust me.”
“You know you want him.” Her brow arches, daring me to deny it.
I can’t help the laugh that bursts from my lips. Her eyes narrow. Oh, shit.Madly searching for some way to wipe the agitation from her features, I mumble hurriedly, “Ipromiseyou, I don’t. I’m not—”You,I just barely stop myself from saying. With a wince, I swallow hard as her lip curls slightly. Each second passes like an agonizingly slow drip from a faucet. My heart thuds heavily in my chest. When she finally nods, seemingly satisfied, the crushing unease and apprehension lift. It’s only then that I finally force myself to let out the breath I’d been holding.
Like a switch has been flipped, a serene smile works itsway to Twenty-One’s lips as she closes the distance to the tree, holding out the drink and food in offering. Her eyes flick toward the woods. I attempt to accept them, but my biceps are still secured to the tree—and as my fingertips brush hers, she whispers, “Enjoy,” then promptly lets go of both the canteen and the sandwich. They hit the dirt at my feet, the napkin fluttering behind them in the breeze before landing a few feet away.
“Oh no,” she murmurs, definite amusement lacing her words, “I thought you had them.” Face contorting into something nasty, she turns on her heel and goes back to the clothesline where she sharply yanks down a few garments, collects the basket, and marches herself inside. She doesn’t even look back.
Is she fucking insane?I’m left gasping, anger and agony simmering like twin demons in my blood. “What the fuck!” I shout, glaring at the sky because that little psycho is already inside, and I can’t contain myself any longer. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to slow the pace of my ragged breathing. My jaw sets hard. Desperation fills me, and for a stupid second, I strain toward the mangled cheese sandwich on the ground. Tears fill my eyes and begin to leak down my hot cheeks. Is she going to continue these tactics, depriving me of food and water and keeping me too weak to fight back against her—or anyone else? All at once, everything is simply too much, and I can’t stop the sob that rolls up from my chest and bursts from me. I hate that I made it through everything thoseawful men threw at me this morning and what finally takes me out is that bitch taunting me. The cool air gusts, drying the salty tracks this latest aggravation has left behind on my skin.
A faint rustling in the near distance has me swallowing back another sob, and anxiety rips my eyes open. Instinctively, I focus on the source of the noise.
A young man stands nearby, eyes lowered. He rakes a hand through his hair before looking toward the woods. I imagine he came from wherever the others disappeared to hours ago. There’s a sense of awkwardness as he shifts to face me, lip caught between his teeth, thumbs hooked in some sort of utility belt where assorted tools hang. I wonder what they’re all off doing that he’s dressed like he’s come from a construction site.
He’s no one I’ve come into contact with before—I don’t know his name—and his chest rises with a breath, then he sighs, like he’s weighing his options. Shuffling closer, he flicks curious eyes in my direction, but only for a split second before they find the ground again. He can’t be more than sixteen, if even. As I observe him, his chest picks up a flush that creeps up his neck and onto full cheeks that will continue to hide their underlying bone structure for another couple years. He drags a hand downward over his baby face.
Once he gets within about ten feet of me, he points at the scattered bread slices and chunk of cheese. When he finally speaks, he questions, “Did you mean to do that?” His voice is a bit raspy, cracking midwaythrough his question, which only makes his cheeks burn hotter.
I pause to sort through what the potential ramifications could be if I tell him what happened. There’s no way of knowing whether or not he has familial ties to Twenty-One, nor do I have any idea if he’s the sort that would tell someone that I spoke to him—even though he was the one to prompt me to do so. My mouth remains firmly shut. Instead, I offer him a simple, silent shake of my head.
His brows furrow, gaze sliding toward the building before coming back to me. “Um. So, how’d your lunch get on the ground, then?” Inquisitive pale-blue eyes drop to my chest before darting back to my face. I exhale hard, unsure what to do. My instincts are seldom any good to me in this place.
Slowly, without me asking him to, he creeps forward, then crouches down to pick up the food smudged brown with dirt and debris. His nose wrinkles in disgust, and it’s then that I notice the smattering of freckles across his nose. At this range, I can tell he’s got just the smallest hint of some peach fuzz starting to come in on his jawline and above his upper lip. Ineffectively attempting to brush off the filthy food, he forces a swallow. “Do you… do you still want to eat this? We, uh… we try not to waste food.” He cocks one brow high on his forehead as he peers at me.
It’s not like it was me who did it.
Almost as if he can’t help himself, his attention dips once again, zeroing in on my nakedness. Surprisingly,I don’t think he means any harm. Those aren’t the vibes I get from him, but maybe I should be more wary, considering I’ve already established that my instincts right now are shit. There’s something about him that reminds me of someone else. I wonder if— Before I can connect the dots, his anxious gaze shoots right back to my face. He grits his teeth as if embarrassingly self-aware that he’s been caught staring more than once now.
