19. Delilah
Chapter nineteen
I watch Bones drag Joker out of the van by the scruff of his neck, and my heart sinks.
I look around at the others, not sure what to do without him being here.
There’s a pause where we seem to hold our breaths, broken when Cross opens the driver’s door.
I jump slightly and shift out of the way to give the others room.
Siren heads out, but Phantom gives me a soft smile.
“Wanna help me unload some gear? Then we can get you settled in properly,” he says kindly.
I nod, just happy to have some direction here. He hands me two bags before taking two more himself, and I follow close behind as we exit the van.
It’s hard to see details in the pre-dawn light, made worse by the shade of the forest surrounding us on all sides.
A driveway stretches out into the darkness behind the van, but there’s no road in sight from here.
The house itself is simple, a one-story cabin, a front porch with a single light next to the front door to illuminate the area.
“It’s not much, but it’s home,” Phantom jokes.
Cross snorts a laugh as he comes up from behind us, a large black tote in his arms. But I don’t have time to dwell on what’s so funny as Phantom leads me behind the house toward a small barn, one of the sliding doors already open with soft light spilling out onto the dark lawn.
When I enter, Siren’s already seated behind a desk, four computer monitors lit up with different programs. But I drop my gaze, not wanting to give them any excuse to rethink their choice to let me stay.
I make two more trips to the barn, emptying the van of the supplies they brought with them, surprised by how much gear they managed to pack into the van despite its size.
By the time it’s empty and we head into the house sunlight is just starting to filter through the trees, creating deep shadows that lay across the grass like prison bars.
The inside of the cabin is spartan to say the least. There’s a fireplace with a television mounted over the mantle and a beat-up, L-shaped sectional in front of it.
The living room and kitchen are separated by a long wooden table, surrounded by mismatched chairs.
A hallway extends off the main room, several doorways visible in the light coming through the living room windows.
And I see a loft with laundry machines and piles of clothes visible through the rungs in the railing.
Cross flicks a switch on the wall, and a few overhead lights come to life, their warm light filling the room and giving it a more comfortable glow.
There aren’t any pictures or decorations on the walls, and hardly any other furniture than what’s strictly necessary.
It feels more like a bolt hole than a home base, but I’m not exactly in a place to judge.
It’s not the inside of a psych ward, so I’ll take it.
“Are you hungry? Or…”
I turn at the sound of Cross’s voice, shaking my head as I pick at the sleeves of my sweatshirt again.
I don’t want to sit anywhere, reluctant to make myself too comfortable without Joker’s backup.
I glance around, trying to find him, but I can only detect trace amounts of his scent in the air, the alpha scents overwhelming all the others.
“Let me show you where you’ll be staying for now,” Phantom says, drawing my attention back to him.
I nod, keeping my head slightly bowed even as I can feel Cross looking at me. As we pass a door, I hear Joker’s laugh, and my steps falter.
“Oh, no. That’s Joker’s nest. Don’t go in there,” Phantom says, uncharacteristically serious.
Something in my heart aches, but I push the feeling aside. It’s been months since I’ve had a proper nest, and the omega part of me can’t help but yearn for the comfort and security one can bring. I continue following Phantom to the last door in the hallway, allowing him to open it.
As I look inside, my face falls. It’s little more than a storage room with a large mirror taking up most of one of the windowless walls, a treadmill and free weights stacked on a rack dominating the room.
There are a few boxes, which Phantom moves to access a closet packed with stuff.
He extracts a military green bag, which he hands to me. A cot.
“I know it’s not much, but…”
I look back around as Phantom trails off. He’s not looking at me, instead staring off down the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck. I try not to let my emotions show on my face, not that he would see them.
“The bathroom is across the hall, if you need it,” he goes on, stepping out of the room entirely now.
“Thanks, but I think I just want to sleep,” I mutter, picking at my cuffs, pulling at loose threads.
It hurts something in my heart when I see the relief on his face when I give him an excuse not to be around me anymore. He mutters something under his breath that I can’t quite pick up before beating a hasty retreat down the hall back toward the main living area, closing the door behind him.
In the darkness, I find my way to the light switch, a harsh overhead light flickering to life.
I manage to arrange a little corner for myself, using the boxes to create a partition on one side of the cot, leaving a small gap along the wall to access it without tipping it over.
A little scrounging and I find a torn sheet and a nearly flat pillow in the closet.
I shut the lights off before feeling my way back to the cot, beating the dust off the linens before spreading the sheet out over the cot, protecting my skin from the harsh canvas material.
I curl up into a ball, the pillow folded twice to support my neck.
As my mind drifts toward sleep, I try to think of more positive things, but it’s hard to see the silver lining of a situation like this.
The room is soaked with alpha pheromones, the harsh kind that comes from adrenaline and anger and exercise, so much so that it almost burns my nose when I breathe.
And when the sound of raised voices filters down the hall, I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut.
I can’t make out any of the words, but I know by the sound of the voice that it’s Bones doing the shouting.
And when no one speaks up to answer, my heart sinks.
I curl further in on myself, pulling my arms into my sweatshirt to retain heat.
I squeeze my eyes closed and try to go through some of the breathing exercises I’d learned, which help me to at least not let any of the tears burning the back of my eyes fall.
I swear I hear footsteps outside my door at some point as I waver between asleep and awake, but no one disturbs me until I fall completely under into a restless sleep.