A knock on the door a few minutes later has me stumbling across the room. I squint at the monitor, trying to make out the image that looks like Ben wearing a hoodie. He must’ve changed his mind about leaving me alone in my drunken state.
I swing open the door. “Ben, you don’t have to worry about—”
The word dies in my throat when Eric’s malicious gaze meets mine. His presence sends a jolt through my body, instantly sobering me. I go to slam the door in his face, and he reacts faster than my eyes can follow.
The man has his hand clamped around my upper arm and yanks me to him, causing me to grunt in pain from his fingers digging into my skin. I stumble before he slams my back against the wall, his face inches from mine, his eyes glittering with something that has my adrenaline spiking.
Panic claws at my throat, but I push past it. “Get the fuck off of me.”
“Not until you deliver a message for me.”
I swallow the insult gathered on my tongue. “What is it?”
“Tell that cunt Xavier that I’m coming for him. Let him know that I’m going to take everything, starting with his bride and ending with his empire.”
“Why don’t you tell him yourself? I don’t give a fuck about any of this shit, so leave me out of it.”
“I can see why he wanted you,” Eric says. He slowly runs his gaze over me, his pupils contracting. My stomach churns. “You’re entertaining, even if you are a mouthy bitch.”
I shrug. “Thanks. ‘Mouthy bitch’ pretty much sums up my personality.”
Eric grabs my neck. My breathing turns into wheezing, but I force myself to remain still. He won’t kill me because he has a purpose for me, to deliver a message to Xavier. My body doesn’t understand and trembles with the need to defend myself.
He smirks, most likely assuming I’m shaking from fear instead of rage. “Maybe I should take you now.”
“If you do, I can guarantee that I won’t deliver your message because I’ll be too fucking busy trying to kill you.”
“So delusional, but amusing.” Eric tilts his head. “If he doesn’t get tired of you first, I’m going to enjoy taking you from him, knowing you’ll fight me either way.”
His arrogance, along with the idea of him raping me, fuels my rage. I hold his gaze to avoid revealing my intentions, and smile. The second his brows snap together in confusion, I raise my knee, aiming for his groin.
Eric grunts, and his grip on my neck loosens. Taking advantage of his momentary shock, I swing my elbow to his chest with all my strength. He staggers back, and I spin toward the doorway.
With my heart pounding in my ears, I slam the door behind me, pressing my spine to the wood. My chest heaves with breaths and spots dance before my eyes. I slide down to the floor as my vision blurs.
I lose track of time and sit there, gasping for air. The lingering taste of fear is sharp on my tongue and my instincts still scream for me to hide, to get away from this place entirely. Tremors snake through my body until nausea rises.
After racing to the bathroom, I vomit. Not only due to the alcohol consumption, but also because of the violent images running through my mind. Having Eric touch me was vastly different than when Xavier grabbed my neck in the woods during the Bride Hunt.
I thought that my arousal was because of adrenaline and heightened senses, but after tonight’s near miss, I know that’s not the reason. I’m disgusted by Eric and attracted to Xavier. Two men, same circumstances, with two separate reactions from me.
This entire time, I’ve wanted to blame Xavier for forcing sexual responses from me, making my body crave him in a way it’s never done before. But now I know it’s not his fault.
It’s mine.
But that’s a problem for sober Delilah.
Chapter 45XAVIER
The instant the notification pings on my phone, my intuition flares with warning.
Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, I glance down at the screen, my heart rate accelerating along with the speed of the vehicle. The security system indicates movement outside my dorm room. A second alert quickly follows, telling me someone has opened the door.
I tap into the live feed with dread coating my skin like gasoline, ready to ignite any second. Delilah opens the door to a hooded figure on the other side. From this angle, I can’t make out their identity… until the man pins her against the wall.
The camera lens provides a clear picture of Eric Gage with his hands on my girl. Rage turns my blood to fire, burning me alive from the inside. I’m not sure which is stronger: my desire to kill him or my need to protect her.
“Motherfucker!” My shout isn’t louder than the roar of the engine as I push the vehicle to its maximum speed. Even then, it won’t be fast enough.
The violent scene unfolds before my eyes like a horror film. The steering wheel creaks under the pressure of my grip as I imagine squeezing the life from Gage when he grabs Delilah’s throat. In the blink of an eye, he could snap her neck.
And my entire world would burn to ash.
The mere thought of her dying is like a physical blow. The SUV’s movements reflect my internal agony, veering too far to the right before I straighten the vehicle. My hands shake uncontrollably, a manifestation of an emotion I’ve only experienced a few times in my life.
Fear.
I was afraid the first time my father struck me, as well as the first time he stabbed me. I was frightened when he took a whip to my flesh and when he put a bullet in my thigh. But all of that was because I didn’t know the level of pain to come. It was conceivable, but not confirmed yet.
If Delilah were to be killed, I can’t even comprehend the level of devastation it would bring.
I’m going to fucking kill Gage, no matter the outcome of tonight’s altercation. I’m going to torture him to the fullest extent, crush his empire, and then when I’m certain he’s suffered, I’ll end his life.
Although his suffering won’t be a fraction of the agony he’s dredged up with just the mere thought of Delilah’s life in danger.
Fury, hot and unyielding, courses through every fiber of my being as I watch Eric engage Delilah in conversation. What the fuck is he saying to her? Is he taunting her with the intent to kill her, or is he merely toying with her to fuck with me?
It’s working.
I’ve never been religious or given a thought to a supernatural deity, but in that moment, I pray to every god I can think of to protect Delilah until I can do it myself. Either the universe hears my pathetic attempts at prayer, or fate decides to smile on me for once instead of fucking me over like usual.
Delilah knees Eric in the balls and slams her elbow in his gut, forcing him to let go of her. I hold my breath until my lungs scream as I watch her scurry back inside my room and shut the door behind her.
I release a shaky breath, my entire body fucking trembling in relief at the close call. The tremors wrack my body to the point I lose control of my grip on the wheel, and I nearly go off the road. Again.
This girl is going to wreck me in every way possible.
Dual emotions collide inside me, a fusion of pride in her ferocity and a seething wrath aimed at Eric for thinking he could touch what belongs to me. And Delilah is mine.
I’m going to have to make that clearer.
To my enemies.
To my bride.
To the world.
The duration of the drive back to the university is the cruelest torture, each second away from Delilah adding to this bomb inside me that’s ready to explode.