Chapter 25 - Delaney

25

Delaney

Ares finds his cellphone amongst our stuff in the trunk of the patrol car. From my spot on a fallen log across the clearing, I can hear him muttering gruffly into it as he paces. Talking to the Wastelanders, I guess. I wonder what he’s saying, whether he’s telling them about what I did. I swallow the lump in my throat and my eyes flick to the black and tan of Aaron’s car. Despite Ares’ attempts to position me far away, to hide it from me, I’m low enough to the ground that I can see past the low undercarriage to the congealing pools of blood on the other side. Along with the splayed body of Deputy Aaron Flores.

My stomach churns. Not with the guilt, I realize, but with dread. What’s going to happen when Dad finds out that I’ve killed his deputy? Any upper-hand I had is now gone. It’s laying in the dirt beneath a dead rapist.

“You good?”

Ares’ shadow falls across me and I blink up at him. He tucks his phone into his pocket, then reaches around to adjust the gun in his waistband.

“Delaney?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I lie. I nod furiously, my blood-crusted hair flicking into my face. I need a shower. Probably several.

“What’s the plan?” I ask, adjusting myself on the log and hugging my knees to my chest. I try to hide my wince, soreness radiating from my core. Ares frowns, cool eyes scanning me for a moment.

“We sit tight,” he says tightly, his jaw clenched. “Reinforcements are an hour or so out.”

“What about…” I wave at the car. At Aaron.

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

I snort. “I’ll remember you said that when I’m sitting on death row.”

Ares settles himself down beside me. “You’re not going anywhere, Delaney.”

“How do you know? You going to take the fall?” I ask, my eyes rolling.

Ares grabs my chin. My breath stills, my chest aching with the sudden need to lean forward and kiss him. Instead, I just let him look at me.

“Yes. If I have to.”

My heart clenches painfully and I decide something in that moment, something I hope he can’t read on my face. There is no way in hell I’m letting Ares go down for this. Not if I can do something about it.

I clear my throat. “How’s your hand?” I ask, awkwardly diverting his attention. He found a first aid kit in the trunk, along with our stuff, and he’s wrapped a haphazard bandage around his wound. Ares drops my chin and follows my gaze. He shrugs.

“Lucky I’m not a lefty.”

It’s his grin that breaks me. Before I realize what’s happening, I’m shuddering with sobs. Ares makes some pained noise and then his arm is around me and he’s tugging me to his chest. He presses his lips against the crown of my head.

And that’s how we sit until we hear the roar of motorcycles in the distance.

***

“Hold on tight,” Ares warns. “And lean into the turn, don’t try to fight it.”

He attempts to adjust the strap on my helmet, thick blunt fingers of his good hand fumbling with it. I shrug away and adjust it myself.

“Stop fussing. But if you’re really worried about me, I could always ride with you.”

The strap tightens under my chin and I let the feeling soothe the nervous butterflies in my stomach. I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before. Maybe if it were with Ares I’d feel safe. Maybe it would even feel good, having my legs wrapped around him. Instead I’m straddling his friend, a black-haired, heavily tattooed biker I remember from the Wastelander compound. Rev, Ares called him.

Ares looks back around the clearing. There are a few more bikes parked off to the side, the Wastelander owners standing around and talking quietly. There’s also a blue van, some generic plumbing logo on the side, and a tow-truck. I know Ares needs to stay here and sort out the mess I made — and who knows if he can even ride with only one working hand.

Ares makes a low growling noise and Rev’s laughter vibrates through his leather jacket.

“He’s not worried about you, kitten,” Rev says over his shoulder. “He thinks I’ll steal you away. Ride off into the sunset with you. Never come back.”

Ares jaw tics. I can’t help but grin. Cheekily, I shimmy closer to Rev and wind my arms around his middle. Ares clocks it, his eyes flashing with anger.

“I’m in,” I say. “I say we hit up Vegas, maybe swing by the Grand Canyon—”

Ares yanks my head around by the strap of my helmet. Leaning in close, his breath whispering over my cheek, he speaks in a low, pussy-tightening rumble.

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?”

My skin tingles where I feel the warmth of his breath. I want his mouth on me, but Rev is right there, along with the other Wastelanders, all of whom are pretending they’re not watching Ares send me off.

“I know. But I think you like it.”

Another growl. Then Ares surprises me. He lunges for my lips, crushing my mouth with his in a searing kiss that’s over way too soon. When he pulls back, my body tries to follow and he has to steady me with his hand on my thigh.

“Got shit to deal with here, but I’ll come get you soon. Listen to Rev, don’t be a dumbass, and if this ride gets you all riled up, maybe a little tingly between the legs, you’d better not fucking come, you hear me?” He glances away, shooting daggers at the back of Rev’s head. “Not on his bike.”

I swallow, my nervous little butterflies returning with a vengeance. “I promise.”

With a final nod, he steps back. Rev’s bike roars to life and it feels like a beast between my legs. The vibrations rumble straight to my core, my inner muscles clenching longingly. A little part of me wants to play up to Ares’ warning. Maybe put on a show and see what kind of punishment Ares will dish out when he gets his hands on me later. Instead, I give him a small, serious nod.

“Hold on, kitten!” Rev yells. The bike lurches forward and I scrabble to hang on tight. Ares disappears in a blur as the bike rockets out of the clearing, down the twisting little track, and explodes onto the empty road.

Turns out that not coming on the back of a motorbike is way easier than I thought. My body is immediately at a low level of panic, my stomach swooping with every turn, every wobble. Rev occasionally yells back to warn me about an upcoming bump or another turn, which I appreciate.

I don’t know how long we ride for — my butt becomes so numb that the vibrations don’t even bother me anymore — but eventually I recognize landmarks and turn-offs and then we’re winding through the familiar streets of a place I once thought of as home.

“Almost there,” Rev calls to me as we pull up at a red light.

“And that would be where?”

He doesn’t answer, shooting off as soon as the traffic light goes green. I don’t have to wait long to find out the answer. We pull up outside a strange looking bungalow that sits on spindly looking stilts, a rickety wooden staircase leading up to the front door. It’s on the corner of a rundown block, which, by the look of the overgrown yards and boarded up windows, is half abandoned. Rev pulls the bike right up underneath the house and turns off the engine. My ears ring in the abrupt silence. Rev flips down the kickstand and climbs off. He groans and stretches, his back popping audibly.

“We good?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at me.

I stumble off the bike, my legs like jelly, and unclasp my helmet. “Are you asking if I came and you need to go into hiding?” I ask sarcastically. “You’re good.”

Rev grins, takes the helmet from me and rests it on the seat. “I like you. You’re funny. Now come on, I need a beer and a piss.”

“In that order?” I ask. Rev barks a laugh as I trail after him.

***

Rev’s house is cluttered and cozy. I’m kind of surprised, actually, that it’s not littered with empty bottles of booze, or a line up of guns and drugs on the coffee table. He disappears when we enter, returning after five minutes with a towel and a change of clothes. He points me down the narrow hall to the bathroom and I take a hurried shower, not wanting to linger on the sight of the pink-tinged water swirling down the drain. Not wanting to remember where it came from.

“So, what’s the, uh… the plan, I guess?”

I sit on Rev’s couch and tug at my oversized sweats. He thunks a beer on the coffee table in front of me, then collapses into a leather recliner with his own and eyes me carefully.

“That’s cute.”

“What?”

“That you think we have a plan.” He gulps his beer and wipes his mouth on his shoulder. “My turn,” he says. “What’s the deal with you and Ares? I gotta say, it was not easy to convince him to let me bring you here alone.”

“Really?”

I think back. The moments after killing Aaron are a blur. Well, except for the vivid, exploding color of Ares fucking me on the hood of Aaron’s patrol car. That is as real and solid as the frosty glass bottle in my hand. I feel my cheeks heat, so I cough awkwardly and shift on the couch.

“Yeah,” replies Rev, not noticing my blush. “He’s real protective. Which, I guess, is why Griff sent him with you in the first place. Thing is, I don’t think any of us expected him to fall in love with you, considering.”

“He’s not in love with me,” I scoff, then frown. “And by considering , you mean…”

“You really did a number on him back in the day. It wasn’t easy, having people look at him like he was a kid-fiddling monster.”

I glare at him. “That was not my fault. And it’s also none of your fucking business.”

Rev doesn’t say anything. What seemed so jovial and playful about him before now feels pointed and dangerous. Like he lulled me into a false sense of security, only to claw me open and pick through my guilt. He takes a long, slow sip, his watchful eyes never leaving me. The house is quiet. A dog howls in the distance somewhere.

I take a shaky breath. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Any of it.”

Rev swallows. He leans forward, his bottle landing on the table with a dull thud. He groans as he sinks back, flipping a lever on the recliner to make the footrest snap out.

“I know, kitten. Sometimes life has a way of just fucking us.” His head falls back, his tattooed throat just a slash of color in the light. “Sometimes all you can do is lie back and let it happen.”

I finish my beer and watch the slow rise and fall of Rev’s chest. Five minutes later, he starts snoring. His words repeat in my head, swirling round and round and making me want to throw up.

Sometimes all you can do is lie back and let it happen.

What does he know about it? Nothing, that’s what. He knows fuck-all about what it’s really like to ‘lie back and let it happen’. Like all those nights I did just that, forcing myself out of my body to some place else, just to escape the horror of what was happening to me. Or how I almost let Aaron happen, until I was saved by the switchblade Ares gave me.

Until I saved myself.

I move slowly so as not to wake him. Grabbing my blood-flecked sneakers between my fingers, I tip-toe to the front door. I turn the lock and it thunks so loudly that I’m sure it’s given me away, but Rev just snorts and shoves his hand beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Outside, I pause at the top of the stairs to slide my bare feet into my sneakers. The evening air is cool, the breeze drying up the nervous sweat gathering on the back of my neck. Rev’s going to be in trouble when the others find out I’ve gone. Ares is going to kill him, then he’s going to kill me.

There’s a chance Ares will never forgive me for this, that he’ll never understand that this is the only way to not only protect myself and Lilly, but to protect him too. I feel a sad pang of regret as I hurry down the stairs and onto the street.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, my words whipped away on the breeze. Maybe they’ll make it to Ares. Probably not.

At least not before I’ve killed my father.