40. Chapter 35
Delly isn’t anywhere to be found. I’ve searched every unlocked room in the house and the back garden, and can’t find her in the large ornate one out front either. I hope she’s not trying something stupid. She won’t tell me what happened between her and the men last night, but I know it must have been intense, considering they dragged me from the library and locked me in the fucking room. Not to mention the state she was in when they brought her to me. She was a mess. Her ass red and welted.
She finally calmed down after I sated her, and we both fell asleep. When I woke this morning to an empty bed, I scrambled up and went searching for her or one of the boys so I could find out what happened. But I can’t find them, and now I can’t find her either.
Delly’s words ring in my head.
We aren’t going home.
I know she’s been hoping that Rune and Clyde were coming for us, but I’ve already figured it out. We weren’t leaving. The four have something planned for us. What it is, I’m not sure, but I know men work differently than women. Women are cunning with their revenge. It’s delivered with precision, making sure it cuts cleanly, deeply like a scalpel. Men, though, their cruelty is rough, with jagged edges delivered with brute force. I know because Rune took his hatred for my parents out on me.
Whatever revenge they have planned for Rune will be hard. Effective, and it won’t just cut him, it will leave him with a jagged, open wound.
Like, say, taking his daughter and never bringing her back.
I can’t say I’m upset at the idea of not returning. I like it here. Even if it’s boring and we barely see the men, I like it just being Delly and me. I like getting my hands dirty and picking fresh herbs from the little garden. I like the domestic feel, the slowness of being cut off from the world. It’s like we’re living in a fairytale mansion, protected by four large guardians.
Even though we’ve barely seen them over the last two weeks, I know they’re around and it provides a weird, reassuring tingle every time I think about them, I feel better knowing even if Rune tried to get us, they’d not let him have us. It sends a sliver of excitement through me that someone wants me so badly that they’d kill to have me. It’s a crazy thought, but then all of this is crazy, so I embrace it.
The rumbling of a car engine snaps me back and I stop in the middle of the large garden, listening. We’ve been here just over three weeks and I’ve not once seen a car.
My heart hammers and I run toward the sound at the front of the estate, skidding to a stop, my boots slipping over the gravel walkway, when I see a shiny black unmarked van in the drive.
My chest tightens as I rush toward the vehicle, stopping to see if anyone’s inside. I place both hands to the tinted window, but don’t see anyone in the back, or the driver’s seat as I walk around the van. My eyes move to the open front door. A shiver passes through me, settling grossly in my belly.
Hesitantly, I creep up the large stairs to the front door. Using just a finger, I push the door open and it swings, bright morning light spilling in from behind me, illuminating the dark foyer. I take a deep breath, my eyes moving to the doorway of the library, when I hear a deep rumbling voice I immediately recognize.
We’ve only seen them a handful of times over the last two weeks, and my stomach flips. Knowing they’re just a few feet away suddenly feels more intimidating than comforting after whatever they did to Delly last night. Hearing his stern voice ring out again makes me question if I want to storm in there and demand answers.
“We fucking have to, Breaker,” I hear Reaper grate, and the deadly tone makes me shoot forward, my eyes rolling.
He’s just a man. A large, sexy man, a lethal looking one, but still just a man. I’ve dealt with far worse than the likes of him.
As I pass through the doorway, I see all their masked faces and large black-clad bodies sending heat to my core, remembering their heavy breathing and primal energy when they dropped Delly at my feet last night.
And there’s a new face. An actual face.
I know right away he’s a driver. Like the guys who deliver packages for people like Rune. Runners and delivery guys have a certain look about them and I wonder what the men had delivered.
When I step into the room, all eyes turn to me. A slippery sensation slides through my gut, the heated memory slipping away. “Have you seen Delly?”
Striker shakes his head and looks away. Reaper closes his eyes briefly, then glances over at Breaker sitting in the large wingback chair, tapping his foot on the floor, while Viper won’t even meet my eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask, picking up on their body language. They’re upset. Angry. Something has them on edge. “Is something wrong with Delly?”
“No, Baby Girl. Kitten is fine.” Reaper holds his hand out for me to take, palm up, fingers beckoning me forward. I hesitate, the midnight hue of his eyes intimidating, even with the silvery light of morning reflecting brightly in them through the open curtains. But I take his gloved hand, letting him pull me forward. His arms wrap around me, hugging me to his massive chest like he would a child. It sends a calm wave through my middle, easing the tension in my shoulders. Inhaling, I take the deep woodsy scent of him into my lungs and I get why Delly felt that way with him that night. Maybe I should have spent more time with him. He’s not as hard as he looks.
When I look up into his onyx eyes, what I see makes the tension in my jaw return. He pets my head, looking absently over at Breaker and Viper. I can’t see his face, I can’t see any of their faces, but Reaper’s eyes tell me all I need to know.
They know.
I had hoped when I realized they had watched us long enough to stock up on our preferred supplies they hadn’t figured out the relationship between Rune and I, but I was fooling myself. They’ve known all along.
My stomach churns, remembering how I called him Papa in front of them. They knew this entire time I was fucking Rune. They know he hurts me.
But that doesn’t explain the driver.
“What’s happening?” I ask, turning in Reaper’s arms to look at the others.
Breaker’s incessant foot tapping stops and he leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs as he lowers his masked head to his hands.
He’s wearing his gloves. They all are.
My teeth set on edge. They haven’t worn their gloves in weeks. They’ve pushed up sleeves and I’ve caught glimpses of tattoos and scars. Pulled masks away to eat, revealing flashes of high cheekbones and tanned flesh. I’ve seen more than I did that night in the dim club. I could identify them by these things alone.
But today, they’re covering everything up and that means only one thing.
We’re being sent back.
“Where’s Delly?” Even I hear the panic in my voice.
“She’s upstairs,” Striker says.
But then we all hear her say, “I’m right here.”
I spin in Reaper’s arms again and my gaze lands on her in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe, the other pressing to her belly, making me wonder if hers always flips and flutters around them like mine does. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as her gaze bounces between the men. She still has that slightly feral look about her. Like she’s about to come completely unhinged.
When her eyes land on the driver, she blanches. Blue eyes widen, darting to Reaper. “We’re going back?”
I know they hear the same disbelief in her voice that I do.
“Not you, Princess,” Striker says, reaching out to grasp her arm.
Not you…
Turning, I face Reaper, and grip the front of his shirt. He looks down at me and I think I see a flash of remorse in the black pools of his eyes as his jaw ticks under his mask. “You’re sending just me back?”
He nods. My hands tingle.
“Just me?”
“Yes, Baby Girl, we have orders,” he tells me.
Orders. Like they have to, not because they want to.
Panic snakes its way up my throat, curling around my neck. My fingers dig into his shirt tighter, tugging it away from his chest until he’s forced to make eye contact again.
I shake my head. “You can’t send me back.” Reaper blinks, then looks down at my hands on his shirt. His shoulders rise on an inhale as his hands cup my cheeks and he runs a gloved thumb over my bottom lip, the material so impersonal against my flesh.
Disbelief makes my fingers unfurl. They’re sending me back. They know what Rune is like, what he’s doing to me, and they’re still sending me back to him.
Maybe they don’t know all the details.
But they know enough.
My hands fist his shirt again and I tug, standing up on my tiptoes, pressing my chest to his, trying to force my words onto him so he can understand, “I cannot go back, Reaper.”
His hands tighten on my cheeks briefly. “You have to, Baby Girl.”
“No,” I hiss, the sting of tears pissing me off as much as his words. His stupidity for not understanding that I can’t go back. I tug harder, pulling his shirt down. “You know I can’t.”
Reaper’s flinch mirrors my own as he tenses, his body turning to solid stone under my hands. His eyes dart to Delly behind me and then to the men around us.
My heart rattles when his muscles bunch and tighten more in his shoulders. “Please,” I whisper. God, I can’t believe I’m begging him to keep me here. “I can’t go.”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. Then his gloved fingers clasp over mine and he rips my hands from his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Delly asks as he pulls me toward the doorway, shoving past her to the foyer. “Why is just Cora going back? Why aren’t I going back?” Before we’re halfway across the foyer, she marches forward, grabbing Reaper’s arm. She grips my wrist and yanks me toward her, but he doesn’t let me go. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to,” Reaper snarls, shoving her away. She stumbles back into the railing. “We have orders to send Cora, just Cora, back to Gavin.”
“No,” I whisper, my entire body melting in horror, like my bones may slip out of my skin. I jerk violently, a scream building in my throat as Reaper shoves me toward Striker, who grasps my arm and pulls me toward the door.
It feels like that day they took us all over again. When they were dragging me away from Delly. But that day I didn’t know I was being saved. That day, I thought I was being taken somewhere to be hurt. Today, right now, I know what will happen to me when I return. Without Delly there, nothing will keep him from me. In his paranoia, he’ll somehow blame me for Delly not being brought back and take it out on me.
I spin toward Striker, grabbing at his shirt. “You know what he’ll do to me if I go back.”
His eyes shift to Reaper.
“Striker, please.” Tears burn my cheeks. “Please. You know he’ll hurt me.”
“Who?” Delly shouts, but Striker ignores her and grips my arm tighter, yanking harder when I dig my heels into the wood floor.
“Please!” I scream, dropping to my knees.
“Fuck,” I hear Breaker yell behind me. “Reaper, I swear to fucking god.”
I can barely hear past the thundering in my head, my heart beating wildly, making my entire body shake. The realization I’m going back alone, with no protection, with no Delly to counteract his cruelty, ripping terrified sobs from my throat.
“Reaper,” Viper yells, but I can’t see anything other than the front door Striker’s dragging me toward, my legs flailing behind me, boots catching on the ragged grooves of the wood floor. But then suddenly he lets me go.
“Fuck!” Striker stalks forward and slams the front door, so hard the windows rattle, the sound echoing like a gunshot, but it pops back open like fate or the devil himself insists I leave this place.
“I fucking know, Strike,” Reaper growls as he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to my feet, then bends over and tosses me over his shoulder, my scream catching in my throat.
“Stop!” Delly screams. “What do you mean?”
My trembling hand’s grip the back of his shirt, and I push up, trying to look at Delly. Striker grabs her arm as she lunges for me, but she hits him hard enough that he lets her go. The sight of her face, contorted with fear as she follows us outside, only intensifies my crying.
“Reaper, stop,” Delly pleads as he places me down on the dirt drive next to the van. She shoves past him, eyes locked on me. Cupping my cheeks, she wipes the tears away and says, “Who will hurt you?”
My insides twist painfully. I want to wrap myself up in her, around her, protecting us both from him. I glance frantically at Reaper. He crosses his arms and takes a step back, like he’s waiting. Like he’s saying, Go ahead, Baby Girl. Tell her. Tell your best friend you’ve allowed her father to fuck you so he won’t hurt you anymore.
My legs give, but Delly keeps me upright. She always has.
I can’t tell her. It will destroy her. She’ll never forgive me. She’ll blame me. Why would she even believe her father, her doting, loving overprotective father, loves to bend me over his desk and slap the shit out of me afterwards? That he’s cruel. That he turned on me before I even had the chance to fall in love or give myself to someone else. She’ll never believe he stole my safety the day he killed my parents and forced himself on me all those years later.
“Tell her.” Reaper’s hard voice snaps me out of it, and I glance his way. Striker shifts at his side, his entire body tense, and Viper moves forward to stand on his other side. Reaper glances at both men, then says, “Tell her, Baby Girl. It’s okay.”
I shake my head. Delly grips my cheeks, fingers digging into my skin so tightly, I don’t know how they’d manage to rip me away from her.
“Cora, my love,” she whispers. I swear it’s like she already knows. Her eyes frantic, brows knit, body vibrating with fear. Maybe she’s not as blind and maybe I wasn’t that good at hiding it.
I open my mouth and a sob escapes, creaking out of me, rusty and old. Useless because all the tears I’ve shed over the years never stopped bad things from happening. The only thing that can stop Rune is me.
By talking.
She wipes my cheeks again. “Cora,” she whispers my name so gently, heart feels like it’s about to crack open. “Tell me.”
I glance at Reaper. Those dark eyes wait. I swear it’s like he wants me to tell her. Like he’s just been waiting for me to say something. Part of me wonders if that was his plan all along. Force me to tell her the truth about her father, so she’d hate him as much as he hates Rune.
As much as I wish I could.
“Papa.” The word has barely left my mouth when her hands drop. She backs away, shaking her head. I suck in a breath. “Papa will hurt me again.”