Pound of Flesh

“DELILAH!”

My stomping feet carry me into the bathroom, my hands wrenching the open window right out of the frame, tossing it onto the floor. Stooping down to peer out into the daylight, the scene in front of me is a nightmare.

Delilah is mere yards away, looking at me worriedly over her shoulder. Her brother is idling at the curb in his tricked-out Mercedes, flipping me the bird. Two of his bonehead friends are sitting in the back, one of them helping my doll into the car—and I memorize their faces so I can find and kill them for touching what’s mine.

“Delilah, no!” I roar, bashing my hand into the bathroom wall, sending plaster spraying everywhere. “Come back.”

But the car door is already closing behind her. An unholy sound rips through my teeth when she presses her hand to the window, a sad expression on her face. Like she doesn’t want to leave…but I’ve given her no choice because I’m a selfish monster who didn’t listen or understand. Until it was too late.

No, it’s not too late. I’ll move mountains to get my beautiful doll back in my arms. Three years behind bars didn’t keep me away from her. Nothing and no one can.

I don’t even bother putting on clothes, walking out of the motel in my boxers in peeling out of the parking lot in my van, groaning in pain when Delilah’s smell drifts toward me from every corner.

It only takes me five minutes to catch up with the Mercedes.

* * *

Delilah

I don’t feel so hot.

Mostly because I have a serious need to burst into tears, but I’m surrounded by my brother’s asshat friends and they’re all bragging about putting one over on Raider. If I broke down and sobbed in front of them, they would rib me about it the rest of my life. And I’m going to be seeing them the rest of my life, aren’t I? I’m headed right back to the beginning. Pretending I didn’t get kidnapped and claimed by a giant who may or may not want me dead.

“How did you come up with the money?” I ask Roger, to distract myself.

“We did a GoFundMe,” one of his friends jokes.

Roger snickers and shakes his head. “Ah, you let me worry about that, sis.”

Meaning he’d earned the money illegally. Not that I’m surprised. Large amounts of money don’t appear overnight the honest way. “How are you going to get the money to Raider?”

His eyes meet mine in the rearview, skating away fast. “We’ll get you somewhere safe, then call him with a drop site.” He shakes his head. “Saw the way he looked at you. Didn’t trust him to hand you over, even if I gave him the money.”

“Yeah, we heard you charmed the beast, cutie,” Roger’s other friend says, giving my legs a not-so-discreet look. “Understandable,” he murmurs for my ears alone. “I’m pretty charmed myself.”

My stomach roils. Traveling in the opposite direction of Raider seems wrong. Really wrong. The Stockholm syndrome theory I had before might have merit. Or I just fell for this big guy and I miss him, faults and all. Cramming my fingers against my mouth, I make a bitter sound. “I think he’d hand me over now, Roger. One day in my illustrious presence and he’s already planning to off me.”

“What?” My brother rears back in his seat. “Are you sure?”

I frown. “Why do you seem so skeptical?”

Roger hesitates. “Listen, I never told you this, but…Raider took the fall for the job when we got pinched.” Red climbs the back of his neck. “Never told me why, but when I saw him with you, I thought…”

“What?”

“I figured he might have taken that fall because of you. So you wouldn’t be fucking orphan.” His fist taps the steering wheel. “Just a theory I had.”

My heart starts to drum out of control. “How? I never met him until he kicked down our front door.”

To my right, Roger’s friend clears his throat. “Before he went away, he warned me to, uh, keep my hands off Delilah or he’d split me down the middle.”

“Same here,” admits Roger’s other friend. “His threat to me was more testicle-specific, though.”

“I-I don’t understand,” I whisper, my body cooling suddenly with the hyper-awareness that Raider’s arms aren’t around me. “Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“Probably because he’s a freak,” spits the guy on my right. “Didn’t want you to know he had a sick little crush, so he worked us behind the scenes until he could get out and kidnap you. Otherwise you would have turned him down, being that you’re normal and all.”

Would I have turned Raider down? Before I got to know him? Probably, yes. My whole body aches with the realization. Had he really taken the fall for my brother so I wouldn’t be alone on the outside? How can I reconcile a man who would do something so noble…with the man who’d been casually plotting my death back in the motel room?