Page 39 of Hysteria Rises
And then Arrow looks up before meeting the gaze of each member of the Collective… and me. My gut twists as he manages to deliver the words expected of him. “Thank you for correcting me.”
TWENTY-ONE
CROSS
My heart thumps steadily,each beat marking the passage of time and reminding me that the scene before my eyes is real. Not a dream.
I hardly know what to think, and there’s no room for error here. I cannot share my true feelings. Not when the Collective hovers, awash in the aftermath of Arrow and Twenty-three’s punishment. Rubbing a hand over the stubble on my jawline, I purse my lips, keeping my mouth shut.
Thud, thud, thudgoes the bruised muscle in my chest. It hurts for those involved in what I just witnessed. I glance toward my father and wish I could beg him to put an end to this, stop prolonging this agony. But for some reason, they’re over there in deep discussion while Arrow bleeds, Twenty-three shakes, and Hayze is lost to his own thoughts, his eyes open, yet unseeing. Mal? Well who knows what the hell he’s thinking. That bastard doesn’t possess the samecapacity to feel that some of us do. Or at least, that’s the image he presents to the rest of us. I can’t help but study him, wondering if someday the walls he’s put up will ever crumble. Fuck, if he didn’t show any emotion here, it’s not likely it’s ever happening. I grimace, reminding myself that I, too, have been studiously concealing my true thoughts since we entered this room. Maybe he and I are more similar than I’d like to think. I chew on that idea for all of two seconds.
Nah.
Another few minutes go by before the silence finally breaks. “Cross.” My father gets my attention, then with a jut of his chin toward Arrow, he murmurs, “I think it’s time you took Arrow to my quarters. There’s a room made up and all the supplies you’ll need in the cabinet. Clean him up as best you can.” At a low moan from Arrow, he gives him a cursory glance before muttering, “I think you’re going to need to take Hayze with you.”
Ignoring Twenty-three, Henry stalks over, then squats down in front of Arrow, whose broad upper body is draped over the back of the chair. Beyond an occasional twitch or flinch, he hasn’t moved a single fucking muscle except what’s required to breathe. His back is flayed open. “Son. I hope this has been a lesson to you. Albeit a costly one. Cross will get you fixed up.” He lightly pats his arm where it dangles before standing and swiftly leaving the room.
My father glances at me before his eyes avert to the steady drip of blood that falls to the floor oneither side of Arrow with a sick splatter. “I’ll be down to check on things in a while. Come get me if you need me.” With that, he tugs on the back of his neck and as he walks away, he gestures to the floor. “I’ll find Gannon and Dragan. Maybe Rafe, too. See if they can’t supervise a few of the women while they clean up this mess before it soaks into Kiefer’s precious hardwoods.”
Kiefer snorts. “Please do.” Wetting his lips, he surveys, then sharply barks out, “Malakai, you’ll take Twenty-three to her cell.”
My eyes dart to Hayze to get his take on this latest development, both of my brows rising on my forehead at Kiefer’s command that Malakai return her to the cellar on his own, but Hayze, he’s still out of it.
I exhale hard, shifting my attention to the once spirited woman hunched into a ball on the floor. It crosses my mind that from a medical standpoint, perhaps she needs attention, too. But I work my jaw to the side. I sincerely doubt that it’d be a courtesy the Collective will grant her so soon after this correction.
Fuck knows I still remember what happened with Eight… and I was young then. The long-ago memory should be all hazy by now, but instead, it’s emblazoned on the very fabric of my being. Our fathers definitely hadn’t afforded her any kindnesses. Granted, she’d been difficult, but she’d paid for it.
Kiefer’s gaze falls to Twenty-three, his lips twisting cruelly. “Get her the fuck outta here.” Eyeing the rest of us, his mouth pulls into a grimace and, as it does, the still-healing wound on his cheek pulls grotesquely. “Also”—he pauses for what I see as dramatic effect—“Arrow, you’re officially removed from supervising Twenty-three.” His gaze shifts. “The other three of you will pair up from now on while keeping an eye on the troublemaker. No one goes down there alone to ensure there’s no fucking funny business. And if you can’t handle that…” He shrugs. “Well, I’ll discuss having some of the seconds and thirds step in.”
Something inside me curdles at the idea of most of those assholes anywhere near her. I chew on the inside of my cheek, watching as he follows the rest of the Collective, leaving us alone—the four firstborn sons and the one thing that has wreaked havoc on this compound like no one else ever has.
“Hayze,” I say sharply, “we should go.” I eye Malakai. “You got this handled?”
Tongue in cheek, his chest expands with a deep breath before he nods. A moment later, he approaches the girl. Without hesitation, he scoops her huddled form off the floor and into his arms. She stares up at him, eyes wary, but it’s clear all the fight’s gone out of her. For the moment, anyway. If I’ve figured anything at all out about this girl, it’s that nothing keeps her down for long.
“Sorry,” Hayze murmurs, meeting my eyes before dropping to his knees beside Arrow. His expression is full of regret as he rests his hand on Arrow’s knee, squeezing in an effort to get any sort of response from our friend.
I run my hands over my face, studying the two ofthem and knowing I have my work cut out for me. I try not to look too carefully at our friend’s bloody back yet. Leaning close to him, I whisper, “Arrow, can you get up?” When he doesn’t answer, I make eye contact with Hayze, and without another word, we each take a firm grasp of one of Arrow’s biceps. As we help him rise, the sound that tears from his lips is as raw and ravaged as the marks left on his skin.
It takes us quite a while to reach my father’s quarter, and we find a small exam room ready, just like he’d said one would be. I heave out a breath. For a few seconds, I keep my thoughts to myself until we get Arrow to the padded table and help him to his stomach. He flinches with every single fucking touch. It becomes apparent as I study the extent of the injuries that this is going to be a massive undertaking. I shake my head as I mutter, “The healing process is going to be terrible.”
“I know.” Arrow turns his head to look at me, and tries to smile at me, though his teeth remain clenched. He shifts, ever so slightly, to look at Hayze, who grimaces. “Don’t. It’s not your fault.”
“It is. I’m the one responsible.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s a steaming pile of cow dung, and you know it.”
Hayze grimaces, eyeing the mess that is our friend’s back. “I could have been less… exuberant. Or something.” He throws his hands up, clearly frustrated.
“No,” Arrow whispers. “What would that have done but gotten you caught up in their wrath?”
“I don’t know.” Hayze presses his lips together. “Fuck my father anyway. Where the hell is he?” he thunders, raking his hands into his hair, then grasping it to yank so it practically stands on end. He heaves out a few breaths as we both watch him, then finally drops his arms. “What really happened in that cell?” he mutters.
That I’d like to know, too.
“It was as they said.” He bites down on his lip. “I couldn’t resist her. I?—”
But that doesn’t make sense. Anger bubbles up inside me. “So Malakai fucking went and tattled to his father?”
