Page 20 of Hysteria Rises (Dark Falls Hollow #1)

FOURTEEN

DELILAH

The owner of the most peculiar eyes I’ve ever seen scans over me from head to toe. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Stand up.” He motions from beyond the bars that I should get off the floor. But he’s not the one I’m worried about right now.

The other is inside the cell with me and advancing with whatever the hell he’s got in his hand behind his back.

These men are hell-bent on their mission. And that mission is me. I have zero chance of escape.

As much as I hate it, my body reacts to fear of the unknown and what’s to come. Are they going to take my tongue out if I speak? Is that what happened to that poor woman? Did she say something to these assholes that they didn’t like and lost her tongue over it?

Shaking violently, I begrudgingly obey. With my mouth firmly clamped shut, I get up, but only so that I’ll be at less of a disadvantage.

I will hit, kick, and bite my way out of here if I have to.

Determination flows through me as I prepare to launch myself at this asshole in the hopes of knocking him off balance.

Maybe if I can take one of them down, I’ll have a fighting chance.

I’ve lost all track of time, but my body aches from long days and nights cooped up in this cell.

Feeling weak isn’t something that sits well with me, but I’ve refused all food.

For all I know, they’ve put another sedative in it.

But if I stay on this path, I won’t be able to function, even if I can find a way out of here.

My heart kicks hard. I simply won’t handle it well if these lunatics knock me out … if I were to awaken to one of them touching me again.

I blink into the darkness, focusing on the agile movements of the man with the intense blue eyes before dropping my gaze to the metal object in his hands.

It’s a motherfucking collar. I exhale hard.

It’s now or never. I fling myself forward, ramming his abdomen with my shoulder.

It’s like running into a very solid, very immovable wall.

He grunts in response, but then his arms wind around me like a constrictor, pinning me to him. A sound of pure anguish is pulled from my lips. “Please don’t,” I sob, twisting in his hold as I realize that I’ve spoken. Nooo. Will that be all it takes to make them silence me?

And then, to my surprise, he hushes me, the same way I’d expect him to do with a crying child or maybe someone who’s in need of comforting. I swallow down another sob, fighting for control and confused by his actions. I hate the way fear courses through me. Hate it.

Pivoting with me in his arms, the blond brute’s warm breath coasts over the shell of my ear with each word he utters. My entire body goes rigid while he begins speaking in a gritty, raw-sounding voice. “I’ve got her but help me get this on so we can get her out of here.”

I jerk, my heart rate ratcheting up as nervous energy courses throughout my body.

I’ve been subjected to one awful thing after another at the hands of these miscreants since I was brought here.

The exam I’d awakened to was bad. The midnight visitor.

Being drugged. This cell, though? It’s been nothing short of horrific.

No matter how I’ve tried, it’s been difficult to block out the many things I have no desire to remember.

I can’t stop the words that burst from my lips.

“Where? Where are you taking me?” I cringe, berating myself for being unable to hold my shit together. And what’s next?

The door to the cell creaks open, then slams shut again.

I’m greeted by the intent hazel-eyed stare of the one who’d been all up in my business when I awoke on the exam table with my wrists and ankles shackled.

He doesn’t utter a word but shifts my braided hair to the side.

The brush of his fingertips over the skin at the base of my neck makes me shudder as he secures the medieval-looking device with a devious-sounding click.

“You can’t do this.”

A small huff escapes his lips, and he shakes his head, shoving the key in his pocket. “Correction, there’s no other way to do this.”

My throat has gone completely dry as I’m set on my feet.

I hold perfectly still, the weight of the collar settling into my shoulders.

It’s gotta be a good five pounds or more of metal, and I imagine I will be uncomfortable very quickly.

There’s no more time to spend contemplating when both men pick up one of the lengths of chain attached to either side of the collar.

“Okay, let’s go. Open the door.” It’s the blond again. I truly have no choice but to do exactly as they tell me to do.

This new metal prison gives the sensation of being tugged downward with every step they force me to take. Trembling, I dampen my lips, waiting to find out which level of hell they’re leading me toward.

Anxiety plows into me like a freight train that can’t be bothered to brake. “Please,” I whisper, the rest of the words caught in my throat.

“Please what?” Hayze—I think I’m remembering his name correctly—stops us, turning toward me.

“I—” I stare at this man, unable to make myself speak. But he’s also not the other one. The one who threw me up against the stone wall of the cell and threatened me. “Please don’t take me back to the one—” I hesitate, worry coating my skin like a thick, ugly residue.

Piercing blue eyes search mine in a desperate bid for the truth.

I shouldn’t have said anything. Oh god. I’ve definitely picked up on some weird vibes among the men I’ve encountered, but I have no fucking way of knowing the intricacies of their relationships.

What if the man who came that night is his brother?

Or his father? Or best friend? There’s no way to know.

I close my eyes. If I speak out I’m putting myself in a very tenuous position.

A second later, his hand cups my chin, holding me steady while he squeezes until my eyes flicker open. His brows raise as if to say, Finish. The command is there, ingrained in his gaze, without the need for him to speak it.

Because I sense that he won’t stop until I’ve answered, I force the words from my throat. “I don’t want to be anywhere near him.”

For several seconds, total silence reigns, ricocheting off the stone walls that surround us. “Hayze?” The voice of his hazel-eyed companion is cautious.

On either side of me, the men hold the chains so that I can hardly turn my head. There’s no doubt in my mind I’ve just missed a silent exchange between them.

Clearly the leader, Hayze, responds, “I’ll find out later,” his tone clipped and firm. He seems to be in charge. I don’t dare try anything. One good yank by either of these men and I’ll be in a world of pain. Releasing an anxious breath, only one thing is clear.

I have no choice but to go where they lead me.

When they bring me through the doorway at the opposite end of the hall from where I’ve been cooped up, my eyes widen, frantically taking in the area. Women. There are other women here besides the one who had come to deliver her terrifying message to me. I swallow hard, unsure what to do.

For a full day, maybe more, I wondered if I’d imagined the one who came to check on me.

Ever since, all I’ve been able to see every time I close my eyes is her wide-open mouth …

and the vacant place where her tongue should have been.

A shudder racks my body. Not a single one of the women looks up as we proceed past. In fact, it’s as if they’ve been trained not to react.

It’s fucking creepy. No way I’m saying a word about it.

Interestingly, there are also several children of varying ages at the long table running down the center of the room. Without thinking, I pause to gawk. But then, the chains pull at the collar around my neck, and I’m forced to keep going.

“Don’t. Seriously,” mutters Hayze.

We see no one else as I trudge along with these two men. They take me up a stone staircase to what seems like a much nicer part of the building. I’d run into the woods, lost myself for days, and somehow wound up here. But where the fuck am I?

At the end of a ridiculously long hallway, we finally enter a spacious room.

It’s very masculine but lavishly furnished.

There’s some sort of strange setup in the corner of the room that I wish I could get a better look at, but they don’t take me near it.

Instead, we go through a doorway into a small bathroom.

A motherfucking bathroom.

I haven’t peed in a while because I’m dehydrated, but all I’d been given to use was a fucking bucket.

My teeth clench hard, and my gaze skirts from one man to the other.

Not only is there a toilet and sink in here, but also a shower.

A really nice shower. It’s an open stall, but the walls are lined with tiles that give the aesthetic of rustic wood planks.

A shiny showerhead above looks like the most inviting thing I’ve seen since I found myself here.

My brows dart together. What the fuck is this place that boasts modern fixtures in some rooms and yet has a basement fitted with literal jail-style cells?

“Lock the door behind us, then go ahead and take the collar off.”

Hazel Eyes hesitates, and my breath catches in the back of my throat, strangling me. I don’t draw another until he speaks again. “Look. I’m not questioning, but would Finneas do this?”

I stare straight ahead, terrified to find out what this entails if it’s something this Finneas person wouldn’t approve of.

“You know what I’ve been tasked with, Cross. We aren’t taking into account what Finneas would or would not do. He’s not fucking here.” Their gazes connect as he continues. “I’m putting her in the shower.”

My attention darts to the hazel-eyed guy I now know is named Cross, and he heaves out a sigh, nodding. “You’re right. The closest she’s come to bathing since the night of the Full Moon Hunting was the rainstorm and subsequent sponge bath to remove the mud.”

Hunting? I frown, doubting I want to know what the hell they’re talking about. And who the hell is Finneas? Is he the guy who whispered all those awful things to me? If so, I don’t care what he thinks either.

My eyes track toward the shower, gazing longingly at it, but there’s no way these freaks are going to allow me to use it in private. A prickle of unease makes me want to crawl out of my own skin.

Only a heartbeat later, Cross tugs the key from his pocket and hope surges forth as he unlocks the collar. The moment he removes it, I feel relief like I’ve never known, but flinch when he quickly grips my chin and stares into my eyes. “Don’t make us have to put that back on.”

I pull in a ragged breath. No way do I want that, so rather than risk it, I watch silently, wishing the two of them would suddenly drop dead and leave me in peace.

But that’s not gonna happen. I’m trapped here, and there’s nothing close to weapon-like within my reach.

My breath heaves from my lungs, jerking and stuttering as I watch Hayze, my brows drawing together as he pulls a towel from a shelf under the counter, then sets a crude bar of handmade soap on top.

I have no clue what else lies in store for me, but I pivot, putting eyes on Cross. It’d be a very fucking bad idea to not pay attention to both of them. He folds muscular arms over his chest, then eyes Hayze, giving him a nod. “How do you want to do this?”

“Stand at the door. Just in case.” Hayze appears almost thoughtful. Pensive. But also determined. And it’s the unshakable resolve in his eyes that should scare me most.

Something settles deep inside my bones. An understanding. This isn’t going to end with these two men leaving me to clean up on my own.

He lifts a hand to his stubbled jawline, rubbing a few fingers over it. His focus lands on me once again and stays there. I wish it wouldn’t. I wish I were anywhere but here. Swallowing hard, I wait. Try to breathe. “Take off the gown.”

I inhale sharply. “What?”

Looking me up and down in a slow perusal that has the baby-fine hairs rising all over my body, he mutters, “We need you clean. Take it off.” When I don’t immediately comply, he juts his chin toward the loose shift dress they’d put me in after the exam days ago. “Now, or I’ll do it for you.”

I don’t know who this Hayze person is, but I’m no fucking coward. Shooting him a cold, unfeeling stare, I peel it off, then whip it sharply at him. “Fuck you.”