Chapter 18
DELILAH
Kane manages to flatten his hands against mine while I keep my voice soft, coaxing. “Do you want to watch a movie when we leave here?”
“Horror,” he breathes.
“Yeah, one of the old scary ones we’ll laugh at.” I nod, slowly widening my fingers, watching his hands to make sure they’re doing the same. “We’ll have a big blanket and—”
“Chocolate. You always eat chocolate and I’ll have—”
“Popcorn.”
He nods, and his breathing is less erratic.
“It’ll be caramel,” I whisper. “Your teeth will hurt after a while, but you won’t admit it, so you’ll tell me to eat it instead.”
He squeezes his eyes shut as he slowly grinds his palms against mine then tightly holds my hands, his fingers painfully digging into the bones in the back of my hand while his eyes move wildly beneath his closed lids.
When they open, he’s even more lost as he asks, “But you won’t share your chocolate? ”
“Yeah, because you picked popcorn.”
“Delilah?”
I’m only capable of nodding at the vulnerability in his voice. The sun is beginning to set, taking the warmth with it, but he’s safe to move now. He looks down at my naked body without any lust or desire. “You’re cold.”
“It’s okay.”
“You’re cold.” He looks at the lining of the drapes with the loss on his features deepening.
The glass shows his reflection, but he stares above his shoulder like there’s something other than his face there.
His lips barely move as he whispers, “We have to go inside.” I have to grit my teeth when he painfully tightens his fingers on my hands as he forcefully says, “She’s cold, we have to go inside. ”
“Kane? Who are you talking to?”
Rather than answer me, he lets go of my hands, gesturing to the window. “Go inside.”
“Are you coming with me?”
He nods.
I keep him in my sight as I crawl backwards to climb through the window then wait for him. But he goes back to staring at the rocks, so I hold my hand out. “Kane, come inside.”
The unease doesn’t leave as he trembles, placing his hand in mine.
I step back, making space for him, only to end up standing on the hem of the drape sweeping the floor.
My focus is on him, so I can’t stop myself as the drape twists around my ankle.
He moves quicker than me, pulling me into his clammy chest. I tilt my head back to see a little more light in his eyes as he leans into me, whispering, “I have to play pretend again?”
I nod, my hair sticking to the lining of the curtain and rustling.
“Kiss me.” He holds my chin on his knuckles, tracing my bottom lip with his thumb. “Kiss me so I can do it.”
Without looking away from him, I kiss the center of his palm. He softly smiles as he pulls me up on my toes then delicately kisses my forehead. “I’ll love you for a lifetime.”
The admission fucks with my head and I turn cold, dragging his hand down to my neck, refusing to acknowledge his gentleness. He grips my neck, forcefully pushing me through the gap between the drapes, gritting, “You’re such a useless fucking bitch. Go to sleep until I have to fuck you again.”
He throws me on the bed then unties the opaque tulle from the four posts.
They flow down, partially covering me before he storms into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
I stare at the ceiling, listening to the water run as the pipes creak, then discreetly search the corners of the bed posts.
We’ll need to change the drapes for privacy.
I don’t think Helene will give us a redecorating budget for our prison though.
We could steal something out of another room, or some boards and nail them to the posts so the bed is fully sealed off from her intrusive surveillance.
Then I begin thinking about my baby.
I don’t even know what part of the world they’re in. Could they be looking at the stars right now or a sunrise? Are they happy? At school?
Questions are all I have. Questions with no definitive way to get answers.
The shower turns off and Kane comes back in only his boxers, holding a towel. He doesn’t look at me as he gets under the sheets, or when the side of his arm presses against me as I lay above the sheets.
“I’ll find you some clothes tomorrow,” he whispers. “You can use this…so you don’t have to feel me next to you.”
I climb under the covers, finding his hand as I lay on my back. He latches onto me, holding my bicep with his other hand as he shuffles closer, both of us staring up at the ceiling.
“She wants me to go somewhere,” he whispers.
“Where?”
“No idea, but your plan’s working, koukla mou.”
He squeezes my hand in alternating bursts—one short squeeze, a longer one, then a shorter one.
“I miss pretending to be him.” He gets closer as he turns to face me. “You laughed with me and I could hold you.”
“Me too,” I admit.
While he thinks about being Asher, I miss Ghost. It’s insane, but Ghost was the one who made me feel normal.
When Kane was pretending to be Asher, I was alone, putting up a front of what he thought I was supposed to be.
In a way, I reverted back to who I was as a teenager—trying to keep the peace—so I believed everything he told me even though my memories contradicted him.
I didn’t have to with Ghost. I could scream or cry without any judgment despite his open hate.
I close my eyes on a soundless, shaky laugh at the realization I found comfort in someone admitting they hated me rather than hurting me while telling me they loved me.
“I hated it,” Kane whispers. “I hated you saying his name, forcing me to remember it wasn’t me you were with. In the end, you still chose him.”
“Because you put me in a coffin with rats.”
“Rat,” he corrects. “You’re lucky I didn’t stretch your ass open to let it crawl inside you like…” He shakes the thought away.
“You’re like him, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
“You never used to be, so maybe you can get help?”
“Some people are born with the need to hurt others, some…” He sighs, falling silent.
“Some are too afraid to be the ones who are hurt so they have to do it first.” He turns over on his stomach, burying his face in the pillow beside my head.
“That place fucked with my head, Delilah. I can’t be around people anymore; I don’t know how to exist in society.
Half of the shit never existed when I was locked up.
It’s all different, even cars are fucking weird now. ”
“I’ll help you adjust.”
“You can’t. There’s no slow adjustment to the advancements of society or social etiquettes.
Prison sends you back in time, where everything is about survival.
” He looks at me with visceral pain etched across his features.
“Do you know what being locked up does? It makes you comfortable with the most depraved parts of society, so when you leave you will never fit in. I was innocent. I’d never dreamed about taking a life, but I witnessed multiple deaths while I was there. ”
“Did you kill someone?”
“I tried to. Seven times.” He sounds so disappointed about failing at murder. “And then,” he whispers, wrapping his arm around my waist, “there was one stubborn idiot who refused to give up on me, and I’m indebted to him.”
“Who was it?”
Please don’t say it was Rowan.
“Niko. If you ever need anything, go to him. Tell him your name, he’ll help you.” He holds me tighter. “He knows Scar too. It’s the reason I saw her.”
“Is she with him?”
“No, they’re friends. I won’t put them in danger by telling you while we’re here, but if anything happens to me, I don’t leave with you, whatever—go to him. He’ll explain it all to you. You’ll get all my money and Scar is a trustee. She’ll make sure you know what to do.”
“You’re close to her?” I whisper.
“No, she’s the closest thing I had to you so I knew I could trust her. She’s still a bitch and she threw a drink in my face when I first saw her.”
That sounds exactly like my sister.
“Why?” I ask.
“Do you remember how she’d always tell us to shut up when we were playing?”
I nod.
“Then you’d always pick hairdresser when she agreed to play with us?” His smile touches my cheek. “You’d pull her hair, and if she’d complain you’d tell her to shut up? So when I saw her again, I pulled her hair and told her to shut up. But she didn’t recognize me.”
“You’re lucky you only got a drink in the face.”
He laughs lightly, slowly massaging down my ribs. “Are you sore, koukla mou?”
“A little.”
“If we weren’t here, being watched, I’d make you feel better.”
“How?”
I’m being an idiot, but I want his gentleness as I slowly trail my fingers up the back of his arm, keeping my body relaxed so it looks like we’re asleep.
“I’d run you a hot bath,” he whispers. “You always like the water to be scalding, and the bubbly shit that fizzes at the bottom.”
“A bath bomb?”
“Little violent, pretty girl.” He kisses my cheek as he remains hidden by the pillows.
“We’d have a huge skylight above the tub so you can watch the stars while I wash your hair.
” Another soft kiss, before he whispers even lower, “Then I’d put you in bed to check on our baby.
They’re older now, but we’d still check on them every night to make sure they’re safe. ”
Our baby.
He said our baby.
I push my face closer to his in an attempt to hide my tears from the cameras. There’s no more painful admissions as he silently kisses my tears away. Just like Ghost did. They’re not something to be hidden or embarrassed about anymore; they exist and he accepts them without the need to berate me.