Page 65 of Hysteria Rises
I glance at Cross opposite me. A cautious bemusement tugs at the corners of his lips as he watches his brothers. A moment later, though, the relaxed look slips from his face, and with a quick look behind me, I pinpoint what’s directly in his line of sight. The women have emerged from the building again with the selection of desserts. Unable to stop myself, my eyes track Twenty-three as she approaches. My molars slowly grind until I’m sure they’ll be pulverized, because I’m not the only one watching her. She’ll be sought after tonight. A novelty. It’s going to be fucking ugly. I cautiously let my eyes roam around the table. Yep. Every eye is on her. Assessing. Speculative. Determined.
Especially worrisome is the fact that the Collective is running tonight. I don’t know what went into that decision and am glad I wasn’t asked to join them at the far end of the table this evening. There’s no way I could have held my tongue. Every word from their mouths has grated on me, no matter the topic. Fuck, but I’ve been stewing since I overheard their private conversation about my father. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something major that they’re keeping to themselves.
As the women line up at the head of the table to offer trays of sweets to the Collective, I can’t help but hold my breath, quietly observing. A hoot of laughter spills from Dragan as he nudges Gannon and juts his chin in the direction of the rising havoc as the women silently serve the Collective.
It’s not unusual that our fathers make it clear who the dominant force is and who is in the position of power. Each makes a point of laying their hands on our women in some way. I lose my focus for a moment when Sixteen stops between Arrow and me, offering her tray. I shake my head because Kiefer has just drawn Twenty-three closer to him with a possessive hand to her hip.
I can’t hear what’s being said, but I’m so distracted, Cross kicks me under the table at the same time Malakai clears his throat loudly. My eyes dart toward him, then back over as I watch the color leach from Twenty-three’s face. Kiefer gropes her breast, then throws back his head, laughing while Nolan cups her ass and squeezes. My jaw clenches like a vise.
Arrow leans closer and grits through his teeth, “What can we do?”
I shift to lock eyes with him. “Nothing,” I murmur low enough no one but Cross and Arrow can hear. “I realize now you were right all along, Cross.” He waits a beat, astute gaze searching mine, then nods grimly as comprehension slides over his features.
Confusion furrows Arrow’s brows. “What do you mean?” he whispers.
I inhale carefully, flicking my gaze toward Twenty-three where she’s attempting to extract herself from their greedy hold without causing an uproar. Grimacing, I spill the thoughts that have been ticking around in my head for days. “This? It’s all a show. The Collective doesn’t want to appear weakened by the absence of my father.” My eyes remain trained on Twenty-three, though my quietly muttered words are meant for Arrow and Cross. “You were right, too, Arrow. Theyusedme when it suited them.” I grimace, my jaw working as I check to make sure no one else is listening. “And they’ve made it very clear that while they expect me to step in at certain times, my fucking opinion is neither wanted nor needed. Definitely not valued.”
“You’re right.”
I jerk, my head whipping around as a clipped response comes from a direction I wasn’t expecting. Malakai has moved himself close enough to hear our conversation. And I’m not fucking sure how I feel about it.
But then, he nods, dark eyes trained on me as he mutters, “Hayze, I know we have our issues, but I don’t think you’re wrong this time.”
On one hand it fuels my indignation, knowing I’m not alone in my assessment. But on the other, I don’t know what the fuck to do about it. Meeting each of their gazes in turn, I grit out, “I amnotlike them. I don’t—” I hesitate, shaking my head. “Never mind.” My jaw clenches so tightly it aches.
I have no idea if I evenwantto be one of themanymore. The goal for as far back as I can remember has been to grow up and take my place as part of the Collective. But now I’m having serious misgivings. My head is clogged with so much torment and anger. I exhale hard. I shouldn’t voice any of this. Not now. Not here. I’ve already said too fucking much.
Malakai eyes me, waiting with his brow raised.Nope, definitely not saying another word. He’s always wanted everything I have. Fought me tooth and nail to prove he’d be the better choice. It’d be just my luck that he’d turn around and use what I’ve already let spill against me.
“Is there a problem down there?” Kiefer barks, squinting at the four of us.
I exhale audibly through my nose. “No sir.”
“Good.” He glances at Twenty-three, giving her a little shove before swatting her on the ass. “Take them their dessert, girl. Be quick about it. You’re needed inside.”
She has no clue what for, that much is clear. As Kiefer notices me watching them, his eyes narrow and his head cocks to the side.
I tear my eyes from her. “Shit,” I mutter under my breath. Then thinking fast, I bite out, “Play along,” low enough that only those within a couple feet can hear me.
Twenty-three visibly swallows as she comes toward us, eyes purposely downcast. She presents the tray, and with a flick of my fingers, I knock my cup over. As the cider spills across the table, her swift intake of breathgets the attention I was hoping for. All eyes swing our way, and I shove to my feet, taking on a belligerent stance.
Our gazes connect, and her expression is as awash with confusion and surprise as I would expect. Wrapping my hand around her throat, I jerk her toward me. My voice scrapes up from my throat rough and thick with irritation. “Watch what you’re doing, woman,” I grit out with a hiss of breath in her face.
She flinches. Everyone else at the table has gone dead silent, but they watch with amused expressions. I twist my head a bit, like an animal before it strikes, boring my eyes into hers. She’s trembling under the grip of my hand, and her pulse flutters madly against my palm. Bringing my lips close to her ear, I whisper softly. “Remember what we told you.” Easing back, I slick my tongue over my bottom lip before showing her a predatory grin that twists into a smirk. A few crude comments fly around the table, egging me on. I go with it, hoping my intentions toward her are as muddy as the ground after a heavy rain. I scrape my teeth over my lip, then leer as I drop my gaze to her breasts, just visible through her gown. “I hope you’re as sweet as I remember.”
I release her throat before snatching the tray and drop it at the center of the table. As I return my focus to her, I note she’s trembling. It’s for the best. My hand darts out, gripping her hip before I give the plump globe of her ass an experimental squeeze. “Go. Prepare yourself for us.” Her head jerks back, browsknitting tightly together. I let a devious chuckle spill from my lips. “I’m coming for you,” I taunt, smacking her ass.
With eyes wide and fearful, she wastes no time in backing away and races for the building. Good. I hope she’s afraid. I hope she takes that feeling and uses it to help her do what’s necessary tonight.
“Gentlemen.” Nolan’s voice rises above the ruckus that follows the departure of the women. It’s almost time, and we all sense it. “All rise.” Then he turns to Henry and repeats the vows that we’re so familiar with. “What’s mine is yours. And what’s yours is mine.”
Henry pivots, delivering the same words to Kiefer. This pattern repeats, each of us turning to the man on his other side, all the way around the table, until finally Gannon turns to his father and completes the circle. “What’s mine is yours. And what’s yours is mine.”
Kiefer gives a solemn nod. “The feast has concluded. Please make preparations.”
THIRTY-SIX
DELILAH
