Chapter 23 - Delaney

23

Delaney

There’s a fuzzy sort of hum in my ears. I can’t hear anything. Can’t think. Did Aaron really mean…?

“No,” Ares says sharply, his voice cutting through the cotton wool inside my head. “You’re sick. I’m not fucking doing that.”

Aaron shrugs, moves his arm out to aim the gun at the ground, and fires. The supersonic boom covers my scream and even as I jolt away, my face buried in Ares’ shoulder, flecks of dirt spray up and spatter against my skin.

Ares says something else — yells something — but I’m not listening. I close my eyes and breath in. He smells like sweat and dust and a little blood somewhere underneath it all, because of course he does. My mouth waters.

“It’s okay,” I squeak out. Ares stills and I tilt my face to him. There are flecks in his eyes, shards of silver amongst the gray. His mouth is a flat line and there’s a deep crease between his eyebrows.

“Ares, please,” I say quietly, so Aaron can’t hear. “I need you to do this.” And then because he doesn’t look convinced… “You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

And it’s the truth. It’s solid and unwavering. It’s the kind of truth I can hold onto, even through what’s about to happen.

Ares looks deep into my eyes, maybe seeing that same truth there: that this isn’t about want, it’s about need .

“Okay. Okay, baby,” he says finally. Despite the low thrum of fear, the word ‘baby’ skitters around inside me, making pleasant little sparks.

“Alright, kids,” says Aaron. “Let’s get comfortable.”

He claps a couple of times, his gun now back in his holster, and he slams the door at my back. His boots crunch on the ground as he rounds the patrol car again. Ares only has time to squeeze my fingers before Aaron climbs back into the driver’s seat. He cracks his neck and adjusts the rearview mirror, aiming it for a clear reflection of the two of us.

“You two waiting for a written invitation? I said take off her shorts.”

“Fuck you, Flores,” Ares spits angrily as he adjusts his body to face me. His handcuffs clink as he reaches for me, but I’m looking at Aaron. At his hungry expression. He licks his lips and a shudder runs through me like he just licked me .

“Hey… Hey… Delaney, look at me.”

I swallow hard and turn to Ares. He lifts his cuffed hands and cups my face with one palm. Tingles radiate from his touch. I want him to touch me, have wanted it for awhile, but not like this. Not with Aaron here, demanding it, using me to punish Ares, using Ares to punish me.

“Just look at me, okay?” Ares murmurs. “Focus on me. I’ve got you.” He comes closer, his lips dipping to mine. “I’ve fucking got you,” he says one last time, just before he kisses me.

It’s a firm, comforting kiss. Dry lips pressing chastely to mine. He pulls back enough to search my eyes with his. “I’ve got you, okay?” he repeats as the pads of his fingers scrape against my jaw.

“I… I’m sorry, Ares.”

He smiles. It shocks me, a sudden dazzling smile, but it also fills me with warmth. “Don’t want to hear it. Now sit back. Let me make you feel good.”

His hands drop to my waist and he pops the button on my shorts. The sound of the zipper bites the air and I feel his knuckles graze the front of my panties. Despite the situation, my heart picks up speed and arousal plucks at me below the elastic of my underwear.

“Up,” he says, his voice gruff, and he taps my thigh. I peel myself off the vinyl and wiggle out of my shorts, helping Ares pull them all the way off.

“What a good girl,” Aaron sneers from the front seat. His voice crawls over me like something disgusting you’d find in the mud. When I look at him, I see his arm moving rhythmically. I wonder if he’s got his dick out yet, or he’s just rubbing himself through his uniform. Bile rises in my throat.

“Hey.”

Ares touches my chin and pulls me back around. He moves closer until his lips brush mine. Not kissing, but enough that I feel every whisper of movement. “He’s not taking anything from you,” he breathes. “You’re giving it to me.”

Relief swells in my chest. He’s right. And I want that, so, so badly.

“Kiss me?” I murmur back. Ares grins against my mouth.

“Anything for you, Del.”

This kiss is different than the one we shared outside the bar. That was desperate and fierce, this is a controlled explosion, so deep and intense that my body immediately floods with a steady heat. I moan against Ares’ demanding mouth and part my lips in invitation. Constrained by the handcuffs, Ares puts his hands gently to my throat, holding me steady as his tongue explores every inch of my mouth.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, pulling back just a little. He sucks in a quick breath before diving in again, his careful control wavering. It’s perfect.

It’s a kiss that sets me alight.

Brings me to life.

Takes me away from here.

“Alright, alright, enough of that shit,” barks Aaron. “Get on with it.”

Ares looks past me, his eyes darkening with anger. “What do you want me to do?” he asks tightly.

“Whatever you want, hero. Just give me a good show.”

For a second, Ares freezes, then I grab the chain between his cuffs and pull his hands down to my panties.

“Touch me,” I say shakily.

Ares licks his lips. He puts his index and middle finger in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks. All the while, he looks at me. His eyes are glassy and bright, but the tilt of his head, the slow slurp coming from his fucking mouth… It’s the filthiest, sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

His slick fingers slide beneath my cotton panties. I inch my legs open and Ares groans breathily. I watch him closely, his eyes now focused down on his hand sinking behind my underwear, like he’s trying to capture the image forever. Then, all I can think about is the feeling of his fingers sliding over my clit.

“Oh, fuck ,” I gasp. My head drops back to thunk against the seat. I inch my hand over the vinyl to Ares’ thigh and dig my blunt fingernails into his sweatpants as he moves expertly over my clit, rubbing languid circles. Stoking the fire.

“That’s it,” Ares says, his voice husky with arousal. “Gonna take me so good. Just like… that.”

On the final word, he sinks both fingers inside me and I choke on a gasp, my hips kicking up at the sudden intrusion. Ares forces me still with his other hand splayed on my lower belly.

“Come on, baby. Doing so good for me.”

My lips twitch into a frown as Ares continues, his murmured ‘ good girls ’ making my hackles rise. I can’t tell him what I really want — not with Aaron right there — so I clench my jaw shut and focus on the feeling of him inside me. His thick fingers plunge deeper, curling to brush all those sensitive little parts that make me see stars. He sets his thumb over my clit, wrenching a cry from my lips.

Ares leans closer still, half folded on top of me, and latches onto my neck. He bites down, then soothes the burn with his tongue.

“Tell me how to get you there, baby,” he grunts against me. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers.”

I shake my head. I can’t talk, can’t even think, because my body is tightened like a stretched wire. My back bows and everything flashes white behind my closed eyes as my climax hits me. It’s hard and sharp, almost painful — but the flood of calm afterwards? It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

I feel like I’m floating on a cloud, the seat of the patrol car is pillowy soft underneath me as Ares gently slides his fingers out of me.

My eyes flutter open and I see Ares watching me, so alert to every minuscule emotion on my face. His eyebrow flicks up — silently asking ‘You okay?’

I nod and beam at him, not really knowing what to say. My eyes lower to his crotch. His sweats are tented, his cock straining underneath. I reach for him—

“Uh-uh,” Aaron chides from the front seat. I freeze, realizing that for a stunning, blissful moment, I forgot where I was. And who else was there.

“Gold stars all ‘round,” Aaron says. He grins into the mirror. The look on his face is predatory and terrifying. “I call next.”

Aaron is up and out of the car before I can react. He opens Ares’ side this time and I watch with my scream caught in my throat as he yanks Ares out. Ares shouts and I hear a scuffle, dust flying as Aaron wrenches him further away. Ares is screaming something. Something I can’t make out, because all I hear is my own voice howling in my head: Do something. Save him. This is your fault. Fucking do something!

I scramble to pull my shorts on and crawl clumsily over the seat. I grab onto the open door and lean out. They’re a few yards away, and Aaron lets Ares go. Ares swings around, ready to charge, but Aaron’s too fast. His gun is out and aimed at Ares before I can even blink.

“Uncuff yourself. Just one.” He motions to something down in the dirt — the handcuff keys.

“Fuck you,” Ares replies, and spits at the keys.

“Actually I’m planning on fucking her,” Aaron replies, jerking his head back at me. “You don’t have to be alive for that.”

Ares eyes flick to me and whatever he sees on my face makes his pale. I squeeze the door handle so hard my knuckles hurt. Then, Ares lunges for Aaron. For the gun.

“Delaney! Run!”

Bang!

The secluded clearing explodes with noise — the echo of the gun, shrieking birds that take off out of the trees, and my own inhuman scream. I fling myself out of the car and scramble on my hands and knees towards Ares — defying him and ignoring my own self-preservation.

On his knees, Ares cradles his hand. Spittle flies out of his mouth as he hisses through clenched teeth. Ignoring the grazes on my knees and the dust in my eyes, I cling to his side.

“Ares, Ares— Oh, God! Oh, fuck. You’re hurt.”

Blood pours from the hole in his hand, dripping down his forearm in thick rivulets and splatting onto the ground from the point of his elbow.

“Told you to fucking run,” he growls at me. He shoots me a look, dark with anger.

“I haven’t listened to you yet, what made you think I’d start now?”

Ares snorts derisively, then winces.

Aaron’s hand comes down to clamp on the back of Ares’ shirt and hauls him up.

“Play with guns, get hurt,” he tuts as he drags Ares away. I start to follow and the gun is suddenly trained on me. “Come on, Del, don’t do anything stupid.”

I stop moving, watching with rising panic as he pulls Ares over to a padlocked metal gate by an overgrown track.

“Wait for me in the backseat like a good girl and your boyfriend will make it through the day, okay?”

I know that Ares wants me to run, and if I did it now, I know in my heart that he’d sacrifice himself for me. He’d throw himself on Aaron and probably take another bullet — this one a lot more fatal. But I can’t let Ares die. I got him into all this, all those years ago, so letting him die here would be like pulling the trigger myself.

No, the only way to get out of this is to keep my head down and do what I’ve been doing for half my life…

I walk numbly back to the car and perch on the backseat. Aaron uncuffs Ares’ destroyed hand and loops it through the gate, locking him into place again. Trapping him far enough way that he can’t intervene, but so that he can still watch. It’s torture for Ares, plain and simple. As Aaron walks towards me, already loosening his belt, Ares rages.

“You touch her and I’ll kill you, Flores. You’re a dead man, you hear me, you piece of shit? Dead!”

“It’s okay,” I mouth to him, just before Aaron steps in front of me and blocks my view.

“Lie back, Del.”

I hear the thunk of his gun as he places it on the top of the patrol car, along with his utility belt. He flicks the button on his pants and I turn my head. I don’t want to see his dick. Feeling it inside me will be enough.

I shuffle back on the seat until the top of my head hits the opposite door. Aaron crawls on top of me. He digs his hips down, forcing the entire length of his body against mine. This isn’t like the other times with… with Dad. Those are like a heavy weight, an endless rolling fog. Aaron’s body is sharp and biting, pure violence under a sheen of clean skin and white teeth. He doesn’t smell like anything. Not mouthwash or cologne or even cheap gas station coffee. He is emptiness. A void where a man should be.

He tries to wrestle my shorts off and fails.

“The sooner you play your part, the faster you’ll be out of here,” he grumbles.

I’m already drifting off into a numb, distant place when I put my foot up on the seat and lift my hips. I roll my head away as he starts to pull my shorts down.

Then I see it.

The slender, narrow shape in the side of my sock. I’d forgotten all about it. When did I put it there? When Aaron woke me up, ordered me to dress. He was so focused on the real threat — Ares — that he didn’t see me slip it into my sock.

The switchblade. The fucking switchblade.

There are no options that need to be weighed. No back-and-forth in my head. The decision is made even before I wriggle deeper under Aaron. Before I bring my arms around him to trace along his back. Before I drop one to his hip, the backs of my fingers brushing against my sneaker still propped on the seat.

“Oh, yeah, there she is,” Aaron smirks. He lifts up, his face level with mine, and I stare into the hollow nothing of his eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I first laid eyes on you.”

I tilt my face to brush my smiling lips against his. “Me too,” I reply.

I stab him. A lot. Aaron howls and thrashes and I keep stabbing, the blade plunging into his back and his side. He tries to get off me, but I wrap my legs around his waist and move with him as he bucks. I’m a leech draining the blood from his body.

He brings his arm up to hit me but I tuck my chin to my chest and drive the knife between his ribs. I twist it hard and feel the scrape of bone as his screams turn to rattling rasps. Then, when I’m starting to wonder how long it takes for someone to die, he makes one final effort to get up. I let him, but just enough that I can carve the knife across his throat.

Blood rains down on me, hot and slick and stinking, and then his body collapses on top of me and I can finally rest.