Stepping away from her, I prop my hands on my hips. “I have to get that water down to the river, or they’ll send someone this way to find out what theholdup is.”
Her face crumples, and she shakes her head. “How long are they going to leave me here?” The question comes out quietly pathetic, and for that I don’t even blame her.
“I don’t know.” It’s the only answer I have.
Her misery crashes down on me like the thunder of a fallen tree in the forest. Lip trembling, she looks down at herself. “I feel disgusting. And I’m tired.” She swallows hard, and I can tell by the way she keeps pressing her eyes closed she’s trying to stave off a fresh wash of tears that have come on at the thought that she might be out here for a long time yet. “And I’m cold.”
“Delilah”—a long exhale billows from between my lips—“hang in there. This can’t go on forever.” I step close to her again, skimming a thumb over her cheekbone.Thump.Thump,thump.As I pull away from her, the unsteady beat of my heart is nearly my undoing. There’s nothing else I can do for her right now, and the regret I feel is staggering. “You’ll be okay,” I whisper. No sooner have those words left my lips, than I cringe. They’re ridiculous. I know it.Sheknows it. Because the truth is… she might not be.
FIFTEEN
MALAKAI
Guilt weighs heavily on me.Every minute that had ticked by while I was sequestered in our bedroom had been sixty seconds too many that Delilah paid the price of lashing out at Finneas. But the honest truth of what happened out there in the forest during the Hunting is likely this: all she’d been doing was defending herself against a predator. I refuse to blame her for trying to protect herself.
Since I was brought to Dark Falls Hollow, I’ve had to turn a blind eye to a lot, have had to find a way to be okay with what I’m participating in. It’s always been about survival.
Lately, though, it’s become difficult to continue on with it. My father would be unimpressed by what he would consider traitorous thoughts that run through my head on a daily basis. The change Delilah’s brought to this compound has been a real eye-opener, and not just for me, either.
I sigh, wishing there was something I could do to help her. Unfortunately, I’d been banned from assisting my father at the bridge today and instructed to stay in my bed and rest. Nolan or Sixteen checked on me every couple hours, so I couldn’t possibly have done a damn thing, nor would it have been wise.
So, all I’ve done for hours is mull over my actions during the events of the last day—no, scratch that—the entire last two weeks. I scrub a hand over my forehead. Dear god, I’m the worst excuse for a human being.
The way I treated Delilah—or rather, the way Ihadto treat her in front of the Collective? Remembering every bit of it is torture. I’m a piece of shit. And while I’ve attempted to indicate to her that that’s not the real me, she can’t possibly comprehend my situation. There’s been no fucking time to apologize for being the one to degrade and humiliate her during that first correction. Forgiving myself for playing that part in her story here won’t come easy. It makes me sick, thinking about it.
My head steadily thuds in an incessant, agonizing rhythm. Fuck Nolan and his refusal to give me so much as a Tylenol this morning or a damn ibuprofen. I groan, wishing I were anywhere but here. Tonight, I’ll probably dream about going to a fucking CVS and choosing from the plethora of painkillers available there. I exhale through clenched teeth, allowing a quiet, shaky laugh to burst free.
Acclimated to the dark that has fallen since the sundisappeared beyond the horizon line, my eyes roam to make sure I didn’t just wake the entire room with my poorly suppressed chuckle.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that everyone but me is out cold, even Arrow. They were at the river from the correction until well after the sun had gone down. I guess fuckin’ Finneas had meant business this morning—both in breaking Delilah and in that they’d be working their asses off for the foreseeable future. When they returned, they’d eaten dinner, showered, and dropped straight into bed. I’d hardly said more than a few words to any of them.
My heart seizes in my chest. Outside, wind whips past the window. She’s. Still. Out. There. I exhale hard and slowly push myself from the pillow, recalling what Cross had mentioned before he fell asleep.She said she feels disgusting.I don’t doubt it after what we did to her. My throat is thick with regret for not putting a stop to it. But the reality is, I couldn’t have done much of anything without suffering along with her. Maybe that’s what I deserve, though. Maybe I should let them do what they want to me. I might sleep better at night, knowing I’d done all I could.
Unable to sit still another moment, I slip from my bed, decision made. I’ve gotta do something for her. Moving stealthily, I dress before grabbing my jacket and leaving the room. At first, I wander, feeling an urgent need to make sure everyone is where they should be at this time of night before I do anything. I don’t need any fucking surprises.
If everyone has turned in and no one is milling about, that means the Collective really does intend to leave Delilah outside all night long. Anger surges, tainting my bloodstream and chemically altering it until fire courses through my veins.
I don’t stop to think, but hurry to collect a few things from the kitchen. Remorse for not having done something sooner fills me until I can’t stand it a second longer.
With a plan in place, I forge forward, hurrying along the corridor to the massive side entrance where I only stop to jam my feet into a pair of boots before exiting the building. On my way to the tree where Delilah has spent the day, I snatch a few things from the clothesline. One of the women didn’t complete her tasks, and for that I’m grateful.
The hoot of an owl is my only companion as I slip through the night. When I catch sight of our prisoner—because that’s what she is—the horrific vision guts me. Her pale body practically glows in the moonlight. She’s slumped over, held in place by the ropes binding her to the tree. Helpless. And the position she’s in has to hurt like hell. Her head is down, chin to chest. She can’t be sleeping, but she must be out of it because she hasn’t realized I’m here. Without making any noise, I set down the bucket and other assorted things I brought with me.
Swallowing hard, I quietly circle the base of the tree, stepping over roots that have erupted from the earth below. In the shadows, I squint at the knot in therope, realizing this is going to take me more than a minute.
“Who’s there?” Delilah’s question falls from a dry, scratchy throat and tugs insanely at my heart. Her ragged breaths speed up, and I can hear her struggle as a twig snaps under my foot, confirming my presence. “Leave me alone!” she shrieks with her whole chest.
Not all the fight has gone out of her yet.Good.But not so great if she starts screaming her head off. I grit my teeth, stepping around the tree to cover her mouth with one hand, then press close, clutching her hip firmly with the other. From a distance of inches, her eyes are wild, staring into the depths of mine as she struggles to tear herself free of my hold.
Fuck. The fire in her has my breath coming fast. From the vicious light in those stormy eyes, I have the sudden worry that this spitfire might be about to bite me, so I shift my grip, freeing her mouth as I whisper, “It’s me. Malakai.” I don’t know if that’s enough to keep her quiet or if it’ll make everything worse, so I encircle her throat, squeezing just enough that it makes her chest jerk. Under my fingers, her pulse flutters manically, like a bird in a too-small cage. I edge closer, my lips brushing hers when I whisper, “Don’t scream unless you want someone worse than me to show up.”
She blinks rapidly as she works a hard swallow against my palm. When she gives me the tiniest nod. I loosen my hold, then back away a few paces, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind my ears. I watch her steadily, then, satisfied she’s not about to freak outagain, I glance toward the building. There’s no light coming from inside. This doesn’t surprise me, as our big appliances run on a generator, and we very seldom turn on lights, even at night. We’ve been trained to do without. Exhaling, I gesture to the rope. “I’m going to try to untie you.” She narrows her eyes, forehead pinching as if she’s holding something back.
On a huffed breath, I murmur, “You never have to ask me whether you can speak. If we’re alone, you can talk my fucking ear off, if you want.”
Her lips press together tightly, and at first I don’t think she’s going to say anything, but then she does. “Oh, okay.” She aims a lethal stare at me, eyes blazing. “Fuck you.”
Semi-stunned but impressed at the venom lacing her tone, I give a slow nod. “I guess I deserve that. But for the record, I’m trying to help you.”
