Chapter 20 Arrow #2
She gives a hiccupping cry as they jerk her forward and she stumbles. That’s when I see what they’ve done.
I suddenly wish I’d never swallowed a single spoonful of that fucking oatmeal.
My stomach churns in rebellion as they come closer.
Her slim torso is encased in some sort of halter-style contraption made out of leather.
They’ve attached a leash to the metal ring situated between her breasts.
Finneas grips it firmly, leading her down the hall.
I’ve never seen anything like it before, but it looks like something used to control a misbehaving animal.
And perhaps that’s how they view her. Every once in a while, our leader’s impatience rises, and he gives a sharp tug that has her crying out as she lurches forward.
Nolan and Kiefer laugh with every stumbled step she takes and help to haul her along.
Each has a firm grip of one of her biceps, and her feet hardly touch the floor.
My own father brings up the rear, a heat in his eyes that sickens me.
“She’s a healthy one, anyway,” he mutters, his eyes locked on her backside.
“I’m kinda getting used to the insolence.
Makes me hard.” As her steps falter, he grabs a handful of her ass cheek.
A muffled cry leaves her, and tear-soaked eyes dart around. She’s looking for help.
And I can’t give it to her.
Kiefer laughs, glancing down. “You wear our cum well.” The smirk on his face makes the scar she left him with pull on his cheek. He’s as ugly on the outside now as he is on the inside. I just never saw it before.
I blink, my gaze focusing in on the splotchy wet patches that cover Delilah’s naked body.
It wasn’t enough for them to make us teach her a lesson yesterday.
From the looks of it, they’ve done it all over again.
The sight of them on her has a rampage forming inside my brain.
It’s a wild, loud, thumping that beats against the interior of my skull. It’s a revolution. A war.
Hayze’s firm grip on my elbow might be the only thing that brings me back from the red coating my vision.
He sidles closer to me as they pass us by, and I watch in silence.
Each of my heavy, devastating heartbeats matches the rhythm of their steps as they march toward the gathering room.
My breath stalls out. No. Fuck. She looks absolutely forlorn.
Lost. And more scared than I’ve ever seen her.
I’m terrified that she’s reached a breaking point and of what it could mean for her.
Her anxious gaze finally finds mine. The raw emotion flowing from her is a dull spoon carving my heart out until there’s nothing left but a hollow cavity, incapable of sustaining life. I might die. My head screams in agony.
Hayze’s hand grips my elbow harder, but I don’t know if he senses I’m about to lose it and he has to hold me back or if it’s because he’s as affected as I am and needs to anchor himself before he acts out.
“Twenty-Three, sweetheart, hopefully you’ve learned your lesson,” Nolan breathes softly next to her temple.
“But I’d actually rather you haven’t. Because the next time you are faced with a correction for your bad behavior, we’ll just declare you ours for personal use, and take turns filling that little cunt day and night until we’ve planted a babe in here.
” He reaches out, his hand sliding down, and cups her pussy.
She flinches so hard, his response is a satisfied grin.
My jaw is tighter than tight, my fists clenching reflexively. And the only breath I manage to drag in is toxic. It leaves my tongue coated in ash.
And then they’re taking Delilah into the kitchen, and all that’s left for the four of us to do is follow.
She’s dragged straight past our brothers while they gawk in surprise.
Gannon and Dragan continue to eat their fucking breakfasts, glancing at each other with lecherous grins.
Rafe’s gaze casts down quickly. Evren doesn’t look away, but his face stains the color of a beet.
“I’m telling you,” Dragan turns and mutters to Gannon, “I’m gonna make sure I have those perfect tits in my mouth soon.”
“You and me, both. The smell of that sweet cunt has my mouth watering.” Gannon jams a spoonful of oatmeal into his piehole before smirking.
“She’s got my appetite roaring. Too bad we couldn’t find her last night, right?
” The two of them chuckle, heads bent together as their gazes flick toward the rest of us.
Whatever other comments they make, they keep in hushed tones between the two of them.
I don’t even have it in me to frown at their assholery.
I’m too busy watching as the Collective shoves my siren into the gathering room.
Because what else is there for me to do?
I feel defeated. Worthless. Most of all …
I’m fucking angry. And I fear they aren’t done with her.
I feel it in my bones, in my marrow. It might not happen today or tomorrow.
But I have a feeling the worst is yet to come.