Page 25 of Hysteria Rises
And I’m fucking unwilling to give up something that I’ve been in line for my whole life—even if I’m unsure of what exactly that entails. Mal has thought he was entitled to more since the moment he arrived. He’s wrong. “I’m prepared to do whatever you need of me.”
(Day 4)
The next morning dawns to more of the same gloom, with only hints of the sun breaking through the clouds every so often. I complete a few necessary tasks before going in search of Cross so we can get moving. I’m ready for this. I fucking have to be.
Nolan’s words to me late last night ring in my head.Hayze, you’ll brand her in multiple ways. She’ll be ours.
I drag a steadying breath into my lungs as I roll those words over in my mind.What’s mine is yours. And what’s yours is mine.It’s always been like this. But now… now it’ll be the absolute truth. It feels real.
Steeling myself for what’s to come, I stride with purpose down the hall to the wing where both Nolan’s and my father’s rooms are located. I duck my head into the medical suite, spotting Cross at the supply cabinet. “You ready?” I murmur low. Subconsciously, I know today is really fucking important.
Cross pivots, bag in hand, and smirks at me. “I could do what needs to be done on my end in my sleep.” He levels me with an intense stare. “The question everyone has this morning is areyouready? This isyourshow. Your…ascensionto the ranks of the Collective. It’s a massive deal to be given this opportunity.”
I rub a few fingers over my lips, hiding the beginnings of my smile before dropping my hand. With a nod that I’m aware is halfway to arrogant, I firmly state, “I fuckin’ am.” I shrug, then punch his arm right in the tattoo I’d put on his bicep myself. “Besides, I’m itching to do some more of my best work today.”
“Good to hear.” As we walk out the door and proceed down the hall side by side, he nudges me. “But what about the rest of it?”
“I’m ready for that, too.”
He chuckles. “Who of us isn’t? But… I might be able to help.”
My eyes fly over to meet his. “I uh … I don’t need help. Not with that.”
“Oh? Well, you might change your mind if you hear me out.”
I shake my head at his cocky grin, then pull open the heavy cellar door. I inhale, curiosity piquing in my blood, but prepare myself to do what needs to be done.
We slip through the downstairs living area without drawing attention. No surprise there. Our women are trained to mind their own business. Eight is at hersewing machine. Twenty-one has been tasked with the schooling of the children since her arrival and will be busy doing that. Twenty-two and Sixteen are likely upstairs doing meal prep.
As we approach the hallway on the far side of the room, it’s obvious why the Collective are on their guard when it comes to this girl and unwilling to let her anywhere near the rest of the women yet. A hoarse shout can be heard echoing down the hall from her cell.
I press my lips together, only sparing Cross a glance as we open and rush through the heavy door. He shuts it firmly behind us. This area is dark and gloomy, even in the middle of the day. There are hardly any windows. No lights. It’s a good fucking thing we don’t have to complete this first undertaking right here.
And for a hot minute, my heart bucks within my chest because I don’t spot Twenty-three when I peer into her cell.
“Where?” Cross grabs my forearm, frowning.
But then there’s a shuffle, alerting us to her presence. I point to where she’s tucked herself into the most remote lightless corner. Her arms are wrapped around her knees, her head bowed. All that’s easily discernible is the blonde hair.
Matter-of-factly, I gesture to Cross that he should get ready, and he puts the key into the lock on the door while I turn, grabbing the heavy metal equipment from the hook on the wall.
Cross whips the door open, and as I enter the tinycube of space, her head lifts, fierce blue eyes shining in the dark while she watches my every move. In a bid to escape, she scrambles—as if there were anywhere to go.
I pull my hand from behind my back, the metal chain clanking ominously. Her mouth gapes open, and she gasps, shaking her head. “Stay the fuck away from me with whatever that is.”
FOURTEEN
DELILAH
The ownerof 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 thatI’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.
