A rapid succession of soft knocks on the door snap me out of my reverie, and I sit up, my gaze alert and focused. For a split second I think Xavier has returned and that I’ll have to face my demons sooner than I’d planned. However, logic is quick to point out that he wouldn’t hesitate to enter his room.
Maybe it’s Ben?
I slide from the bed and head toward the door. A mixture of curiosity and unease slithers through me, growing the closer I get. Meanwhile, the knocks persist, a clear sign that whoever’s on the other side has no intention of leaving.
The monitor mounted on the wall next to the door reveals an image that’s crisp and clear, displaying the hallway outside. The camera positioned above the doorway captures every detail with precision, from the dim lighting of the corridor to the textures of the carpet.
As well as Brenda’s tear-streaked face.
The young woman stands in front of the door, her disheveled image on the monitor making my breath hitch. The screen displays the disarray of her hair, the way it falls in unkempt waves around her shoulders, and her clothes, normally pristine, are wrinkled. The stark contrast of her pale skin to the bruises dotted across her face makes my stomach churn.
However, her eyes are what gut me. She gazes at the camera with a vulnerability and desperation that makes her look like a wild animal being hunted. Stress lines her hunched shoulders, and her eyes flit back and forth in a series of nervous glances.
I open the door and the weight of her stare has my muscles going taut with wariness even as compassion floods my chest. “Brenda, what are you doing here?”
“Hey, Delilah.” Her voice is low, filled with hesitation, her eyes searching mine for something I can’t decipher. “I… I need to talk to Xavier. It’s important.”
Hearing her say his name does something to me. It’s like a switch being flipped, releasing all of my pent up frustration. The dark, insecure part of me wants to slam the door in her face, but the rational side says it’s not her fault.
It’s Xavier’s.
He’s the one who fooled around with her and then chose me as his bride afterward. He’s the one who encouraged Brenda to seek him out for… whatever reason. He’s the one who has the power to make us both feel tied to him and his decisions.
I pull in a deep breath, desperately trying to stifle the spread of the jealousy already running rampant. This moment isn’t about Xavier. It’s about a woman needing help.
“He’s not here,” I say. “And I have no idea when he’ll be back.”
She narrows her eyes, suspicion written all over her face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I sweep my gaze along the bruises covering her jaw and her busted lip. “I’m a good listener.”
Brenda drops her head, and her brow furrows with her thoughts. When her gaze finds mine, it’s swirling with uncertainty. “This is… complicated. And you can’t help me.”
“What happened to you? Was it your recruit?”
“Who else?” She scoffs. “Eric’s an asshole to rival all assholes.” She presses her lips together and regret flits over her features. “Forget I said anything.”
“I won’t say a word. I know I can’t help you, but what do you want Xavier to do?”
She throws up her arms and covers her face, distress and desperation in every movement. “I don’t know. I thought maybe he could protect me by making me his bride instead of you.”
The air around me crackles with tension as her words sink deep into my bones, making them heavy. My arms hang listlessly at my sides while I stand there with my lips slightly parted in shock.
Would Xavier trade me for Brenda? Can he?
The idea creates a maelstrom of emotion that threatens to drown me. Insecurities from my past rise like ghost ships at sea, full of corpses and other things left buried. Fear of abandonment, even by a man I hardly know, wraps around my throat and squeezes the life from me.
Not wanting to be Xavier’s bride is one thing, but when it comes to another recruit, the choice is clear. I’d rather be Xavier’s whore than another man’s punching bag. However, that might not be up to me.
And that scares the shit out of me.
I stand there, speechless, my mind racing through different scenarios and possible outcomes. The very thought of Xavier choosing Brenda over me isn’t hard to grasp. They have history. Intimate history.
She drops her hands and stares at me, her eyes mirroring the turmoil within me. “I’m sorry. I know this is fucked up. I just thought that if I had Xavier’s protection, things would be better. He tried to help me once, and I rejected it. Now, I’d do anything to have him back.”
Her admission only fuels the flames of doubt and fear charring my insides. “Xavier chose me. Can he just give me away?”
Brenda shrugs. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to ask him if there’s any chance for us.”
“Us?” I repeat, my voice a squeak.
“Yeah. I know he cares about me, or he wouldn’t have tried to get me into rehab.”
The word “us” echoes in my mind, the implications reverberating with unspoken and unanswered questions. Brenda’s mention of rehab adds another layer to the complexity of their relationship. There’s clearly a history of feelings that I wasn’t aware of, but it doesn’t matter.
Xavier wanted to be there for her.
“I see.” I force the words from my mouth, eager to be finished with this conversation. “Like I said, Xavier’s not here, but you two do have a lot to talk about.”
Brenda’s lips thin. “I’m not trying to screw you. I just need to get away from Eric. He…” She shudders. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.”
Her words, meant to smooth out the tension, only amplify my fear. A year is a long time to fulfill a contract.
Chapter 42DELILAH
Brenda turns and walks away, dragging her feet as though heading toward an execution. Maybe she is. The recruits weren’t allowed to kill each other in the Bride Hunt, but what restrictions do they have with us?
Her departure does little to ease the tight knot of anxiety in my stomach. I shut the door and lean on it with my eyes closed, attempting to draw deep breaths to steady my nerves. Feelings of helplessness wash over me.
What the fuck am I supposed to do about this? Can I do anything?
Being in this vulnerable position as Xavier’s bride has my emotions shifting from uncertainty to a simmering anger. The more I reflect on the situation, the more righteous indignation heats me all over.
I pace the room, muttering to myself. I don’t deserve this shit. If Ben were my recruit, he’d treat me with respect and kindness. Xavier, on the other hand, is a huge risk.
If I thought aligning myself with him would provide me with a semblance of safety, I was mistaken. Our relationship is a minefield, leaving me to navigate it while constantly worried that the next move could be my last. Meanwhile, Xavier strolls merrily through this situation without a care in the world.
The realization halts my steps. And has me raging. If Xavier thinks he can do whatever he wants while I sit and wait for him to dictate my life, he’s in for a surprise. I refuse to be a trophy. Or worse, a tool in his game of power, easily traded or discarded.
I retrieve my phone from my pocket. My fingers hover over the screen, my body humming with bitterness. I need to feel like I’m not alone, like someone gives a shit about me and isn’t willing to toss me aside.