Chapter 13 Delilah #2
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.
With a shake of my head to answer his question about the food, I then gesture with a trembling finger toward the canteen. Doing without food is one thing, but I can’t go without water.
A moment later, he abandons the sandwich, and his face lights with a gentle smile.
Snatching the water from the grass, he places it into my hands.
I give him a hesitant grin, immediately twisting the top open with quaking fingers.
That’s when I realize there’s no way I can tip it to my lips with my upper torso and arms bound to the tree.
Frustration slips through me, and I nearly cry.
His eyes flick from the container in my hands to my face. “Oh. Let me help.” A few seconds later, I practically cry with relief when he tips the water to my lips. My throat works at a furious pace to keep up with my greed. Some of it dribbles down my chin, but I don’t even care.
Just as his pale eyes follow the liquid that drips onto my chest, it strikes me that I know exactly who he must be related to. Arrow. The color of their eyes is similar, as is their build.
I bite my lip, wanting to say something to him, but still unsure if it’d be wise. He studies my face, and a moment later, it’s as if a bulb goes on over his head. “Oh. You can speak. It’s okay. I don’t care.”
Still, I hesitate before finally mumbling, “Okay. Thank you for that. I know you didn’t have to help me.”
A self-conscious smile creeps over his face as his cheeks pinken. “No problem.”
He seems nice enough, but I still eye him warily. “Um. Are you Arrow’s brother?”
“Yes.” His answer is hushed and comes with a small shrug. “I’m Evren.”
No idea how far to push things but feeling a desperate need to ask questions of someone who might answer, I probe a little deeper. Understanding the interpersonal relationships at play among the people who live here might be helpful. “Do you have more brothers?”
Coughing—to disguise discomfort, I think—he aims his stare at a fixed point somewhere over my shoulder.
I appreciate that he’s not fully leering at me.
It’s actually kind of endearing. He drags in a nervous breath before answering.
“Yes. Bodhi. And Summit. We—we’re Henry’s sons.
” He pauses, brows knitting together before gesturing to the remains of my meal again.
“I answered your questions. Won’t you tell me how that happened? ”
I grimace, shaking my head. “I doubt it would help me to say. And I don’t know if I can—” Trust you.
He sighs, groaning a bit. “Did someone take it from you?”
I work my jaw to the side, wrinkling my nose as I shake my head again. “No. Not really.”
“If you tell me, you can ask another question.” His eyes meet mine. “You’re curious about us. I can tell. But I’m interested in hearing about you, too.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, even though it probably is, and the way he’s studying me … it’s not uncomfortable.
For several seconds, I worry the skin on the inside of my cheek, chewing on it.
What could it really hurt to tell him? Twenty-One can’t possibly be his mother.
There’s not nearly enough of an age gap between them.
“I never had it in my hands.” My eyes close on a long blink before I spill.
“Twenty-One brought it out. She dropped it there and left.” I leave out the nastiness and the crazy assumptions she has regarding my desire for Kiefer.
“Oh.” Shock registers on his face at first, but then slips into easy acceptance, almost as if he’d expect that of her.
There is something I do want to know, but I need to think about the appropriate way to ask.
I haven’t been able to easily determine who is related to whom around here.
Blatantly inquiring as to whether each man sticks to impregnating a single woman seems like it could be interpreted—not wrongfully so—as me judging the way they live.
I scrape my teeth over my lower lip as I think.
Along that same vein, I’m also intensely curious as to whether any of the women are mothers to those who are participating in the Hunting.
The thought of it makes my stomach roil.
I drag in a breath, instead digging for slightly different information.
“The four of you—does your mother live here?”
“Mother?” His face falls. I wasn’t expecting that.
“Yes. Yours and Arrow’s? Bodhi’s and Summit’s? Is it Eight or Sixteen?”
“Summit was born to Eight. Bodhi to Sixteen.” He presses his lips together a deep V forming between his brows. Hesitating, he wets his lips before quietly murmuring, “I don’t know where my mother is. Or Arrow’s.”
His explanation answers my initial question with a big fat no but unfortunately adds to my confusion. There’s a hint of something in his expression that makes me leery. Before I can even decide whether to press further, laughter erupts in the distance.
Disgust wedges itself into my throat, and my eyes slam shut. Dammit. I can’t even bear to look up and see which asshole it is.
“Evren,” comes a deep voice full of menace, “the Hunting was last night. It’s over. No fair fucking her now.” More laughter. “Besides, the chase is half the fun, ya limp dick!”
Oh no. I know who is approaching without looking and cringe as a second voice shouts with glee, “Oh, come on! Give him a break, man. She could be his first. We both know he hasn’t caught a woman yet, hasn’t yet gotten to sink himself deep.”
Distaste and loathing bubble in my stomach as raucous laughter breaks out again.
From under my lashes, I hazard the fastest glance ever to confirm my fear.
It’s that dick, Dragan, the one who had kept me from my escape when Kiefer let me leave the compound.
He’d also said some pretty sick things as he tried to choke me out last night.
Whooping it up with him is his buddy Gannon—the one who looks a bit like both Malakai and Kiefer.
Fuck. I grit my teeth together, trying not to panic.
Evren’s eyes crash shut, but he gives me an apologetic shrug, his face even redder than it was before. The secondhand embarrassment I feel for him practically suffocates me.
“Aw, have you made a friend?” Gannon snickers as he continues toward us, pausing only to double over with his amusement.
Unfortunately, these dickheads show no sign of halting their ribbing. Equally entertained by this game, Dragan slaps his thigh. “Maybe he’s hoping if he’s nice to her that she’ll have mercy and touch his weeping cock.”
The pair of douche canoes are moving now, advancing quickly.
Oh no. Hungry eyes lick like foul tongues over every inch of my body.
I shift, gritting my teeth as the rope tugs against my skin.
I don’t know why I bothered trying to move.
I was tied up on purpose. Left vulnerable by men intending to teach me a lesson.
Evren groans, an apology of sorts clear in his gaze. I can almost feel the waves of mortification rolling off him as he shifts, clasping his hands in front of his groin. Expelling a heavy huff of air from his lungs, he turns around to face them. “F-fuck off.”
Not that it will do any good, but I instinctively press backward into the tree trunk, wishing I were almost anywhere else.
I have no idea if Evren can handle these two goons.
He seems nervous, and I can’t blame him.
To his credit, though, he’s not cowering, simply attempting to stand his ground.
And he’s put himself between me and them, though I don’t know if it’ll do any good.
He stiffens, staring down the aggressive psychos.
“I just gave her water. That’s all. There’s n-nothing wrong with that.
” I cringe internally as the poor guy stutters again. “L-leave us alone.”
“Oh, little freak. You’d like that wouldn’t you?
” Gannon teases, glancing toward the younger man’s groin.
“Got yourself hard just talking to her, huh?” His smirk makes my insides convulse with the hate beaming from his eyes.
He shrugs. “Also … did I hear you right? Did you tell us to ‘F-fuck off’?” he asks, mimicking Evren’s stuttered speech.
Before I know what’s happening, the big oaf closes the distance and smartly smacks his open palm across the cheek of Arrow’s brother.
Dragan’s lip curls and he makes a shooing motion. “Run along, Evren. We’ll take care of her.”
“Yeah, we sure will.” Gannon shoots me a wink, and fear unfurls inside me. “We’ll fuckin’ ruin her.” Evren backs up a step closer to me, but these two stalk forward, practically licking their chops. The fact that they smell blood is right there in their eyes.
My heart thunders with deep, heavy, agonizingly fast beats that threaten to do damage to my rib cage if it doesn’t let up.
When Evren doesn’t move, Dragan raises a brow, then chuckles and shoves him aside with a growled “Get lost.”
As far as physical strength goes, they are not evenly matched.
Looking back toward me from the ground, Evren exhales hard but gets to his feet, then tries to push back, only to be punched in the gut for his trouble.
He falls to his knees, groaning as he braces himself with one hand on the ground, the other clutching his middle as he wheezes.
A tiny gasp escapes my lips as I plead with them, “Leave him alone.”
Dragan’s ugly gaze drinks in my body as he growls, “Shut your mouth, woman.”
Evren is the only person standing between me and who knows what hell. I swallow hard. There won’t be any stopping these assholes. They believe they’re in the right. And I believe I’d rather die than be taken by another man. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing away the feel of their hands on my skin.
It’s all I can do. I’m defenseless.