Chapter 46
What the South typically lacks in temperature and snowfall, it makes up for with decorations and holiday cheer.
Though, even this week, as if summoned by the pure willpower of the people, the air is actually cold and crisp, with no hint of humidity detectable.
In fact, it’s so cold, Delilah and I had to pull out our winter coats for our trip beyond the grounds.
Both camel in color, they keep us warm as we walk through the French Quarter, admiring the decor and doing some last-minute Christmas shopping for Gio and the others.
One week before Christmas and the streets of the French Quarter are filled with holiday tunes played by the ever-present street-musicians, while the buildings are all wearing their Christmas best. There’s a red bow tied to every streetlamp, garland draped along every second-story iron railing, and lights of various kinds wrapped around the columns so common with the architecture of the city. And that’s just the start of it.
The store displays are on another level.
I’ve never seen more Christmas trees, toy trains, or poinsettias.
Not to mention, the decorations at Audubon Park and City Park are some of the most enchanting things I’ve ever seen.
All the Oak trees are wrapped in lights and various oversized decorations fill the green.
Gio took us to see them last night. I suppose he knew I needed a distraction given what today is. Perhaps he needed one too.
Despite the holiday cheer surrounding us and filling our home, the past couple of days have been a little tense.
As the wind whips at my cheeks, it’s as if Mother Nature knows that something evil this way comes.
I pull Delilah closer to me, suddenly feeling uneasy, as she carries the little bag with Gio’s gift.
I wanted to give him something special, something nice yet sentimental.
And I wanted Delilah to be a part of it.
Her attachment to Gio has been growing ever since they first met.
But, after she saw Gio and I share a kiss, she’s started calling him daddy.
And, for all intents and purposes, he is her dad, more than Clive ever was.
He provides for her, plays with her, teaches her, protects her, and carries her to bed when she falls asleep on the couch.
He dances with her in the living room around the Christmas tree.
The two of us take turns reading to her at night.
He would do anything for her. I know it in my heart.
And I am so thankful that she has him, that she gets a second chance at having a dad just as much as I get a second chance at having a husband.
But, with Gio’s perfect gift picked and a few extras for Ana, Damon, and Ariana, perhaps it’s time we head back home. Something just doesn’t feel right.
My pace slows as I try to read the street name up ahead and remember how to get back to the Range Rover.
And that’s when it hits me—the reason for the sudden unease gnawing at my stomach.
The smell of him, sweat and dirt mixed with the faintest hint of cheap, nauseating peppermint, fills my nostrils.
As my eyes widen in horror, my blood turns to ice.
I’m frozen as Clive wraps one hand around my wrist from behind me and says, “My sweet, sweet Darcy, stupid Darcy.” I
drop the bags in my hands as his breath cuts me like knives. As it trails up my neck, it leaves goosebumps in his wake. And, before I know it, before I can even scream or tell Delilah to run, Clive pulls me into the alley to our right.
“Mommy?” Delilah’s screech of a scream keeps me from escaping into the safety of my mind as Clive spins me around to face him while pinning me up against the brick wall of the building next door.
She sees. She sees us as he presses one arm across my chest, holding me in place.
She sees as he wraps his fingers around my neck, digging them deep into my skin.
All the times I wondered what she observed and now there’s no question.
But if she sees us, maybe someone else will.
Witnesses, remember. There are always people in the street, for better and for worse.
If only the damn Christmas music wasn’t so loud, and the decorations didn’t make the alleyways so obscure.
“Don’t…don’t come close,” I tell her, struggling to get the words out as Clive tightens his grip on my neck.
I keep my eyes trained on him as fear swells inside me.
My legs are heavy, and my arms are paralyzed as he looks at me, even more wicked than before.
He growls as his eyes traipse up and down me, taking in my new clothes, expensive jewelry, and the makeup on my face.
I look different to him, but inside I’m still the same Darcy I’ve always been.
While that may mean something different to him and me, in this moment, his perception and mine feel all too similar.
He sees me as his prey, and I certainly feel like it. My lip quivers and my body shakes beneath him. I’ve always known if he found me, he’d kill me. And that thought, along with the look in his eye, has me trembling beneath him. I’m afraid. I’m weak. I’m—
As I stare down the monster from my past who has always made me feel worthless, I realize something has changed.
I have the courage to look at him. Not a fleeting glance.
Direct eye contact. I’m not ashamed anymore.
I don’t believe the lies he once told me.
I’m not helpless, hopeless, or unlovable.
And, despite my predicament, I am no longer his victim.
I just have to hold out a little longer until—
As Clive’s eyes bore into mine, there is an ice in his glare and in his touch.
His hands burn my skin in a way I never noticed before.
Perhaps because I finally know what it is to be touched with love.
“You think you can take my daughter away from me? You think you can escape me?” He grits his teeth as he spits the words out.
As he does, he grabs hold of my coat’s lapel, pressing harder against my chest. It hurts so much I know his touch will leave a bruise.
Though, as he pulls me toward him and shoves me back against the brick wall, I know I’d be lucky to make it through this with just a few bruises.
I cry out as my head connects with the bricks.
It’s then that a new pain takes precedence, along with a new fear.
Clive is smart. He’s always been smart. He came here for a reason and there are witnesses, at least potential witnesses.
Whatever happens next will be quick, unlike all the times at the cabin.
He doesn’t have time to waste. And I don’t have time to wait.
In this position, I’m too vulnerable. I can’t run, and I’m not strong enough to overpower him.
Though, I have to try. Fighting through the fear paralyzing my limbs, I lift my knee and jab him in the balls.
He hunches over in pain and his grip of me loosens, but not enough.
Before I can escape him, he grabs hold of me and shoves me against the wall once more.
Leaning toward me, he’s so close it looks like we’re kissing to anyone who may pass.
“I thought the South was known for its hospitality. But it seems you’ve lost all your manners,” he taunts.
Before I even have time to respond, Clive pulls me toward him and then repeatedly barrels my body into the bricks.
It all happens so fast that I don’t even know if I scream.
The little awareness I have is used to brace myself and protect my head.
But, as the blows keeping coming, I fail.
With a disorienting strike, my vision blurs, and pain courses through my skull.
It’s enough to leave me unable to ward off anymore of Clive’s attacks.
He continues until I feel blood dripping through my hair, down my neck, and across my face.
No longer able to stand, he releases me, and I fall to the ground amongst the rubbish.
Unable to see, Delilah’s screams and cries fill my ears, along with the sharp sounds of trumpets.
“You will die for this,” I somehow manage to say.
“You will die first.” Clive’s voice is faint, and then there is nothing but silence, darkness, and an echo through my mind that says, I love you, Delilah. Mommy loves you. But those words aren’t ones I’m sure I’ll ever say again as the echo fades away along with my consciousness. Don’t forget me.