I looked her over, torn between relief at seeing her again and horror at what the Ghosts had done to her. The chains were part of the Hunt, but seeing Maeve strung up against her will, seeing the fear in her eyes, had undone something in me.
She hadn’t been having fun, exploring the parts of herself she was too scared to explore aboveground like the blue-haired girl had been doing with the Hawks.
Maeve had been terrified.
“You okay, killer?” I was trying to keep it light. I knew Maeve now. Knew she didn’t like to rely on other people, that she didn’t like needing help.
She swallowed hard enough that her throat rippled. “I… I think so.”
She touched her neck and my gaze went to the blood drying on her skin.
“You’re bleeding,” Poe said.
I understood the shock in his voice. Bram had marked Maeve as ours and still the Ghosts had dared to hunt her, to chain her to the wall, strip her.
Make her bleed.
I looked around for her jeans and handed them to her, then started to strip off my own.
She clutched her jeans to her chest, covering her bare tits. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you something to wear.” I handed her my jeans. “You can tie them around your chest until we find you something else.”
Bram, Poe, and I weren’t wearing shirts. The jeans were all I had to offer.
Literally.
“Jesus christ,” Poe muttered when he saw that I was free ballin’.
“Now you know how we feel having to look at your bare ass all the time,” I said.
“You’re… naked,” Maeve said, her eyes locked on my dick.
Any other time I might have been flattered by the attention, but I was pretty sure admiration wasn’t the point here.
“I’ll live.” I took my jeans from her hands and worked the legs under her leather jacket, then tied them in the middle of her chest to cover her tits. “Not exactly fashionable but at least you’re covered.”
“I could have just zipped my jacket,” she said.
I stared at her leather jacket, the only article of clothing the Ghosts had left her with, probably because she’d been cuffed when they’d stripped her.
“Well shit.”
She pulled her leather jacket around her chest, my jeans still tied around her body. “It doesn’t matter. It’s the thought that counts.”
There was more I wanted to say, more I wanted to ask.
A lot more.
But right now I just wanted to get her out of the tunnels.
To get her home.
She squealed with surprise when I scooped her into my arms. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you the fuck out of here.”
“I can walk,” she said.