My spitfire casts an annoyed glare up at him. “I told you, I thought something moved near that tree.”
“Right,” he huffs. “And then you freakedthe fuck out. But you and I both know you were unsteady before that.”
“Don’t pretend like you give two shits about me, Cross.” She says his name like she’s tearing into it with her teeth.
“You’re right. I don’t,” he agrees with a smirk before the two of them proceed to engage in a rather impressive staring contest. Or maybe it’s more like a glaring contest on her end. What went on between the two of them while they were out there alone? She at least understands him well enough to know he doesn’t care about her. Or maybe I should say he’d never allow himself to show that he does. Not outwardly. It simply isn’t allowed.
Cross exhales heavily, narrowing in on her hands. “I haven’t missed the way you keep prodding at your neck like it hurts.” At my raised brow, he grimaces, then bobs his head. “There was some sort of altercation back there. Dragan caught her. I’m not sure exactly what else happened. You can ask her later, if you want, but she’s been very…selectivein what she wants to share.”
At his accusing tone, Twenty-Three’s chin jerks to the side as she averts her gaze.
My eyes dart between them, unable to decipher the undercurrents that swirl. Head thumping away, finally,I snap, “Look would you just fill us the fuck in?”
Cross’s eyes lock on mine as he starts moving again. “I don’t even know how to say it.”
“Hold on”—Arrow holds up a hand—“before weget into that…” His gaze flicks warily to mine, his jaw working to the side.
No.Without saying a word, I give him a hard look that readsDon’t you fucking dare.
He throws his arms out from his sides, huffing out an irritated breath. “He doesn’t want me to tell you he got hit in the head.”
“Shut the fuck up, freak,” I bite out.
Cross pauses, his eyes rolling hard. “Cut thatfreakshit out, Mal.” I stare at him in stony silence, my jaw clenched hard. Slowly, I stretch my neck one way, then the other. Fuck, I really want to lie down. I’m close to falling on my face. Only a second later, Cross squints at me through the dark. “Is he kidding?”
“I’m not,” Arrow butts in. “Look.” He grabs my bicep and because I’m already off balance, he easily spins me around. His voice is soft and full of concern as he murmurs, “He’s bleeding. Was out cold, face down in the dirt when I stumbled upon him.” Cross closes the distance between us, crunching twigs and leaves underfoot, then there’s a moment of absolute silence. I don’t know what the fuck is being communicating to him, but a second later, there’s some rustling and Arrow appears in my peripheral vision with Delilah in his arms.
Cross quickly murmurs. “Don’t put her down. If she escapes, it’s my ass.” He’s at my back, and then, strong and sure, his hands are running over my shoulders, moving upward. My breath hitches, but it’s notbecause of the injury. I hope to god no one else notices the effect he has on me.
While I’m caught up in my head, his fingers move dexterously to release the hair tie. Several seconds later, he mutters, “Gonna need a better look later.” I might enjoy his hands in my hair if every touch didn’t send a fresh wave of nausea surging up the back of my throat. I exhale through my nose and allow my eyelids to sag shut. My head pounds a vicious beat.
When he appears in front of me, his expression is grim. “I can’t see shit out here, but the hair at the back of your head is soaked in blood, as is your entire back. We need to move. Now. Can you walk?”
I don’t answer immediately, and that only seems to ignite something feral in him. His hand darts out like a shot, and he grips my jaw, forcing me to look into his eyes. I press my lips into a line, not answering, as my stubborn streak fully surfaces… because this is Cross. And there’s nothing I enjoy more than rattling his cage. “I’m good. Just tired. And done with this fucked-up day.” My eyes flick to his oddly mesmerizing ones again before darting away.
“I’m asking if you need help, you jackass.”
Exhaling hard, I give the barest shake of my head. “No.”
“Okay. Because we’ve gotta go. But no arguments—you’re gonna let me look again once we get back.”
“Fine.” The word heaves from me, and we begin to walk. I stumble a bit in the dark, and to my surprise, his arm snakes around my waist. Whether myunsteadiness is due to the lack of anything to illuminate our path or that I feel incredibly lightheaded, I couldn’t say. My brows knit together as we trudge along in an eerie silence. “Whatever you were going to tell us earlier… whatever you’re holding back, just say it,” I growl.
In Arrow’s arms, Twenty-Three flinches again. There’s something odd about her stare that makes my jaw go tight.Fuck. What now?Twenty-Three’s voice cuts through the quiet. “Hayze’s fucked-up excuse for a father is back.”
Finneas?The announcement of his return is like a bowling ball to the gut. “Shut the fuckin’ front door,” I mutter under my breath, only to get an odd look from both Arrow and Cross. I throw up my hands. It’s not even worth explaining the turn of phrase. This explains why Cross has been acting weird.
Finneas has returned.After a few seconds’ thought, I still can’t decide whether this is good news or not. I have no fucking idea if things will go back to the way they were or will a new state of upheaval reign? It’s possible things would have been better if Finneas had stayed gone because, since his disappearance, my father has been easier to deal with. Will a gigantic shitstorm commence as the Collective is turned on its head for a second time?
“What are we going to do?” Arrow quietly murmurs, though what exactly he’s asking about, I don’t have the brain capacity to consider.
Dragging in a breath, Cross juts his chin in thedirection of the compound. “Finneas told me to take her back, so that’s what I’m going to do. Let’s go.”
I let out a huffed breath, glancing upward as the storm picks up its furious pace, pelting us from above as we trudge on. Arrow is preoccupied with Twenty-Three, and I need to do something to keep myself from passing the fuck out, so I let loose a muttered question. “Is Hayze with Finneas, then?”
Cross glances at me from the corner of his eye. “Yeah. Dragan, Henry, and Rafe are also there. They’re helping him back to the compound. He has a bloody gash in the side of his head.”
“What in the hell?” Our eyes meet, and I can tell he’s as bewildered by it as I am. Wincing, I shake my head.
