22. Delilah
Chapter twenty-two
I manage to get down half of the food on my plate before my stomach decides it’s had enough.
The room smells like Phantom, and the weights have been moved.
I’m glad I woke up so early, then, just to avoid that wake-up call.
I listen to the muffled voices down the hall, waiting for the conversation to shift, signaling the others are finished eating.
It’s easier to focus on that than to let my mind wander too far from me right now.
I hear the scrape of chair legs on the floor and spring to my feet, rushing down the hall toward the kitchen with my head down.
I stick to the outside walls, trying to stay out of the way as I start to clean up, scraping my leftover food into the garbage before anyone can see.
I doubt they’d care, but old habits die screaming.
No one acknowledges verbally that I’ve returned, though I can feel at least one set of eyes watching me like a hawk as I work quietly and efficiently.
They don’t have a dishwasher, so I have to scrub everything by hand, which is fine.
It does mean putting my back to the room, though, but I keep my senses on high alert.
“I’ve already got a bidder on some of the information we scraped from the facility,” Siren comments between bites.
“Any leads toward a central hub?” Phantom asks seriously.
“Nothing yet, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there. We may need to hit another one, see if there are any connections,” Siren says.
“They’re going to beef up security for the other auction houses now that one has been compromised,” Bones grumbles.
“True. I haven’t seen any external chatter about the smash and grab, but I’m sure they’re shitting bricks internally.”
Siren laughs at their own joke, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Of course, they would want to keep this quiet. Don’t want to scare off potential buyers with the idea that their operation isn’t as secure as they advertise.
“Keep up the sales, and we can figure out what comes next when you finish sorting the data,” Bones says with a strong air of finality.
“Probably best to lay low for a while anyway,” Phantom says with a groan.
The others grumble their agreement, and the conversation shifts to discussing supplies they’re going to need. I tune out most of it, not suffering any delusions that I’m going to be getting anything. But when Joker speaks my name, I freeze in place.
“Delilah is going to need clothes, and a better bed,” he says firmly.
Bones growls, sending a chill down my spine. I return to washing dishes, my spine curling inward reflexively to make myself smaller, less noticeable.
“We agreed—”
“Clothes, fine. She doesn’t need a bed. She’s got one,” Bones snaps, speaking over Phantom’s objection.
“Little wisp, come sit with me for a second,” Joker calls out.
I slowly set the plate I’d been washing down, careful not to break it.
I don’t hear anyone objecting, so I turn and move toward the table, standing at Joker’s side between him and Phantom.
Or at least I try to stand, until Joker pulls me down into his lap, wrapping one arm around my waist as he pulls my hair to the side and nuzzles my neck.
The tension ratchets up around the table, Bones’s growl growing louder by the second.
I freeze, not sure what to do. Running seems like a decent idea, but Joker’s arm around my waist holds me tight to his chest. I want to lean into the affection, my heart flipping in my chest as I swallow a whimper.
“That was the best damn breakfast I’ve had in my life, luv,” Joker mutters into my ear.
My eyes water in an effort to keep them open and not react to the praise, even if I want to so fucking bad.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thin even to my own ear.
“What else can you cook? I want to make sure we get you what you need,” Joker says, a little chuckle in his voice that I don’t quite understand.
“I can…I can cook a lot of things. But whatever you want, I can make. I don’t need—”
I cut myself off as Siren scoffs, a sharp pang in my chest at their dismissal.
Joker chuckles and holds me closer, playing with the end of a strand of my hair.
It’s so hard to stop myself from melting into him, like I did when we were in the facility.
Touch starved doesn’t even begin to cover what I am, but I don’t dare show any signs of enjoying this attention.
“If you want to make a list or something of the meals you want, I can make a list of ingredients. But you don’t have to. I can make whatever work,” I ramble, my throat dry.
“We can do that for you, darlin’. And if what you make is half as good as that breakfast…” Phantom says, trailing off as he leans over and puts a hand on my knee.
I can feel the heat of his touch through the thin material of my sweatpants, and this time, I can’t help the little omega whimper that slips free before I can stop it. Phantom’s fingers curl to grip my knee at the sound, and Joker chuckles, nuzzling my neck again.
“That was such a pretty sound, little wisp,” he breathes into my ear, sending goosebumps across my skin.
“Omega…” Bones says, trailing off in a warning growl.
I squeak and pull myself out of Joker’s arms, moving across the room to be as far away from Bones as I can be, my hands clasped at my waist and my head nearly parallel with the floor.
“I—I don’t need anything. I’m—whatever you want to get. I can—it’s fine,” I stutter, heart in my throat.
“No, that—” Bones starts, cutting himself off with an irritated sigh.
I swallow again, trying to hold back the words, desperately trying to claw their way out of my throat. Anything to turn his attention away from me, and onto something else. Anyone else. My instincts are screaming to find a protector, someone to shield me from his wrath.
An image flashes behind my eyes as I blink.
I’m no longer in this cabin, but another one.
The one my pack built for us. The scents of cedar and my mates circle around me.
But they aren’t here to protect me from him.
The man who terrorized me behind closed doors.
The man whose words always cut the deepest. The man who…
“Delilah, go out to the barn for me, okay? I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Cross’s voice cuts through the flashback, pulling me back from the brink.
I suck in a sharp breath, his violets and cherrywood pushing out the other scents my mind conjured from my memories.
I look up to find him standing above me, his figure blocking out the rest of the room so all I can see is him.
His jade green eyes are soft, his full lips pulled down into the barest hint of a concerned frown.
I nod, and scurry away toward the back door, and I can feel the other four pairs of eyes in the room following me, each one like a hot poker on my skin.