Chapter 4 Delilah
DELILAH
I’m groggy as I’m carried through somewhere dark, the sound of waves louder than anywhere else I’ve been on this island, like I’m directly in them.
My dress has been removed, so there’s no barrier to the cold, damp air as the people carrying me refuse to show me any care.
The drugs are wearing off as Helene’s stick taps, taps, taps.
The hood over my head doesn’t allow me to see where I’m being taken. I have to force my body to relax at the harsh metallic clang as she says, “In there until I’m ready.”
I’m tossed out of their arms, landing on a stone floor with a weak crack, but I push my face against the hood in an effort to see anything. I still can’t fucking see anything when the tapping starts.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Helene stops in front of my crumpled body, jabbing my hip with her stick, turning me onto my back.
The sharp end digs into my skin as she applies more pressure, callously twisting.
“When you understand nothing will escape me, accept me as your creator, I will allow you to heal.” She twists the stick the other direction.
“Until then, you will take your punishment for disobeying me.”
There’s no use pretending anymore, so I grab her stick, pushing it off me as I force myself to my feet.
I slap around the hood, feeling for the clasp to undo the band around my mouth before I pull it off.
Nothing prepares me for what it looks like as I stare at the material in my hand.
Black leather straps are stitched to the fabric like a straitjacket to remove someone’s ability to see and speak.
What the fuck is wrong with these people?
I throw it at Helene as I seethe, “I will never accept anything where you’re concerned. Where’s Kane?”
She looks down at the hood sliding down her chest to rest at her feet, then fixes her eyes on me for a moment before she turns. “I see this will be time-consuming.”
“I asked you a fucking question. Where is he?”
The guards donning mirrored masks step in front of the large steel door, leaving a gap for the evil bitch to step through.
I’m about to follow her when one of them plants their feet and throws a punch directly at my face with their entire body weight behind it.
I fall back, knocking into the wall disorientated as they abruptly pull the door closed.
It whirrs, each locking bolt clicking. Six bolts are engaged, sliding into the stone wall, keeping the door in place when there’s no handle on the inside, just a flat slab of steel.
I turn in a circle, taking in the stone box I’ve been placed in. No windows, no bed, there’s not even a toilet or a sink. It’s all grey and I can’t use anything to chisel the stone away.
Kane.
I need Kane. He’ll know how to get out of here once I tell him where we are.
He’ll come to get me. I slam my fists against the steel, screaming, “KANE!” I keep doing it, harder, louder, until my throat is sore and something hits the door on the other side.
Before I can express any joy over the response, a high-pitched ringing echoes around the room.
It’s the same as the hospital.
I lower to my knees, placing my hands on my ears to block out the sound. Just as I manage to mute the ringing, anguished screams overpower it. I look up, staring through the door because I’m not alone. Someone is being tortured on the other side, fighting for their sanity like me.
And it sounds like they’re losing.
After three weeks of enduring nonstop screaming, I can’t feel my bruised ribs anymore.
The sound of agony has replaced it, so I don’t even flinch as I sit in the corner of the room.
The cold seeps through the walls into my bones without a barrier, but I can’t move away from it without making myself even more vulnerable.
Helene hasn’t come to visit me again, but the real punishment is not knowing where Kane is.
If he’s alive. My ears ring with the silence surrounding me as the screaming slowly tapers off.
I have to press my hands flat to them to stop it as I bury my face in my knees.
The noises are making it fuzzy again, and even when the screaming stops, I can’t get the same clarity I did while we were outside. While I was with Kane.
Remember, Delilah, just remember.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try.
But the high-pitched tone restarts.
I can handle the screams. This is worse. It makes my entire body seize, muscles pulling taut, and the ringing in my ears rattle my mind. The harder I try to smother the sound, the deeper I can feel it vibrating through my body.
All the sounds mix together. The screechy tone, metal jangling, heels clicking, and a distinctive tap. They get louder.
Louder.
Louder.
Louder.
Louder.
Until there’s a heavy clang, then I’m left with just the shrill tone. I look up, feeling something on me. Helene stands in front of the metal door, her hands wrapped in black leather gloves—reminding me of Kane—as she rests them on top of her stick.
I wet my dry lips, swallowing hard before I ask, “Kane?”
It takes me a second to find the word to describe the strange quality to my voice: broken. I sound broken. I am broken; she knows it too.
“Would you like to earn a bed?” she asks softly. The same tone she used to promise me I’d torture my parents triggers the memories, pulling them forward like a warning because I’ve met her before.
There’s no force required to strengthen my voice as I meet her eyes. “Not from you. Fuck you.”
Her lips slowly lift into a sinister smile as she takes a step forward. “There’s my sweet girl. I’d begun to think you’d never come back.”
I lock my jaw shut to prevent losing the only advantage I have. If she finds out I remember her, she’ll take more things away from me. This motherfucking cunt pried my baby out of my arms after stroking my hair and asking me what I want more than anything in the world.
I hate her. I hate her with every fiber of my being. I hate myself for not remembering my baby.
So I silently sit in the corner, waiting for her to do whatever she wants.
All I need to do is get back inside her house, then I can search for Kane.
He’ll help me and we’ll find out where she took my baby.
It’s still fuzzy so I can’t even remember if it was a girl or boy, but I remember the warmth in my chest and sweat coating my skin while I held them.
A shadow slowly moves across the threshold of the door as she steps to the side, allowing my father into the room in his usual suit—loafers bearing our family crest on the sole, the watch I gave him when I was dumb and na?ve.
I’m no longer disillusioned by who he really is because I’m going to kill him one day.
Not because he’s a shitty father, or because all he has ever done is hurt his children.
No, I’m going to kill him for taking Kane away from me.
For stealing the precious time we could have had.
For making the best person I had ever met become bitter, so this bastard’s web of lies meant I lost him twice.
He stops beside the stupid bitch, both of them politely smiling at each other like they’re acquaintances catching up rather than in a creepy dungeon in front of his naked daughter.
“The choice is yours, Harkin. You may correct her behavior, or out of loyalty to our ties, I will facilitate it.”
I hug my knees tighter as he smiles, using the same voice he would when he had one of his parties to gain favor for some acquisition he was excited about.
“It would be my pleasure to teach her the error of her ways.” He looks at me.
Really looks at me, his eyes slowly raking over every inch of my exposed skin in a manner no father should with their own daughter, then turns to the old bitch.
“It will be a punishment for me too. I should have taken your advice and raised her like I did the others.”
No.
No. Fucking no.
Ruby and Scarlet knew. They knew he’s a pedophilic, rapist piece of shit but they still left. They knew our family is a million shades of fucked up but they still left me. They left me with them, and they didn’t even tell me so I could protect myself.
They knew it all, so did my mother. That’s why she wasn’t surprised when I showed her the recordings because I was the third person, third child, third daughter this cunt had violated.
I scream. Not words or insults. I scream in pain, frustration, anger. Every emotion within the realm of being is encapsulated in my scream.