Chapter 28
DELILAH
Lennox spends every day beside the bed. When I throw up, he holds my hair back.
When I can’t regulate my body temperature, he applies wet washcloths to my forehead.
I’m not sure why he’s here, and I don’t know how many days it’s been when I can finally open my eyes without pain lancing through my skull.
He still hasn’t removed his leather gloves that remind me of Kane. I miss him. I want him back. I want to tell him he was right. This is all my fault.
Instead, I try to appeal to Lennox’s humanity as I ask, “Do you know where my baby is?”
I’ve managed to shock him, which must be a feat considering how calm he’s been so far. He slowly leans forward, his voice lowering as his gloved hand gently brushes my hair away from my clammy skin. “When did you have a baby?”
“In the hospital. She took them away from me.”
“I’m sorry, little doe. I wasn’t aware.”
“Will the—” My voice cracks. I clear my throat to force out, “Will they be safe?”
“Yes,” he says too quickly, lying to me, but I accept it over the alternative.
“Is Kane safe?” I whisper.
“He will be.”
“Can I see him, please?”
There’s no lie or comforting pass of his hand over my hair as he walks out of the room. I guess that’s a no, then.
I sink into the sheets, watching the setting sun, hoping I don’t see it rise.
I don’t know if I want to die or if I want the world to end.
The latter sounds better, an end to all misery instead of my own.
Ignorance really was bliss. The only compassion I ever received was a double-edged sword.
I knew who I was when I couldn’t remember years of my life better than I do now.
Lennox returns, locking the door behind him.
I close my eyes, waiting for whatever’s going to happen.
That’s how I forgot before, so I’ll do it again.
But the sheets aren’t taken off me, and my limbs aren’t tugged away from my body.
He comes to my side, stroking my hair as he says, “There’s someone who wishes to speak to you. ”
When I open my eyes, he holds his phone out to me. Then Kane’s voice comes through the speaker. “Delilah?”
I don’t know what’s wrong with me or if the effects of being sick have depleted my strength, but I can’t lift my arms. Lennox holds the phone to my ear as he continues stroking my hair.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
There’s water running in the background of the call as Kane says, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Remember your plan, okay?”
Lennox turns rigid, turning his head to stare at the wall. No, he stares through it. He doesn’t give warning as he ends the call before I can even say bye. He slips his phone into his suit pocket then scoops me up like I’m child to carry me into the bathroom and place me in the empty tub.
I’m dazed and tired as he walks out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He must keep hold of the handle because it rattles as his voice turns more forceful.
“She’s still sick.”
Holding the edge of the tub, I pick my head up to listen for any other voices or tapping. There’s no response. But the door handle rattles again as I flinch at the booms of the whip piercing the air.
Whipping.
Like Kane was whipped.
Each strike of the whip cracking against skin gets faster, yet no one screams. Other than the handle rattling there’s only the sound of the whip.
He’s getting hurt because of me. Another life changing because I was an idiot. He’s helped me. He hasn’t violated me the entire time he’s been here, not when he was feeding me soup or rubbing my back when I was sick. He kept his gloves on without taking.
I climb out of the tub, swallowing around the lump in my throat as I walk to the door.
The handle trembles as I wrap my fingers around it and pull.
The edges of the door shake within the frame, but it doesn’t open fully.
I have to plant my feet and use two hands, still it remains in place from how tightly Lennox is gripping the handle.
Until the whipping gets faster, distracting him.
I catch sight of Helene standing on the other side of the room, whipping her adult son when I manage to pry it open an inch.
The door is pulled back in place.
I pull harder and shout, “Leave him alone, you stupid bitch!”
One.
Two.
Three more whips before I manage to pull the door open to have enough of a gap to see her again. That small inch is enough for me to glare at her, but I soften my voice as I say to Lennox, “Move out of the way. I’m not afraid of her.”
He tightens his hold on the door as she loses control, the boom of the whip louder with how quickly she flicks her wrist to send it flying back towards him.
“Stop!” I curl my fingers around the door, pulling it harder as Lennox’s shirt tears, the leather parting his skin. “He didn’t do anything! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Helene tilts her chin in the air, the same way my mother always did whenever she felt like she was being undermined.
She doesn’t whip Lennox again. I don’t know how he’s still standing, never mind how he manages to straighten his spine, holding his arm out to block me exiting the bathroom as I face his fucking mother.
She snakes the whip against the floor to loosely wrap it around her fist.
“Does this make you feel less fucking pathetic?” I ask, sounding stronger. “Does it make up for the fact your children hate you and your daughter left you? That she never even spoke about having a mother, so we all thought you were dead?”
Lennox bristles as he fully blocks me from view. Ripping the door back, I hold his bicep as I lean up on my toes so she can see every bit of disgust and hate I harbor for her.
“I understand why now. She wanted you to be dead because it was her dream, you miserable fucking cu—”
“Enough,” Lennox grits, pushing me back while he stares at his mother. “She is still sick. Delirious. She needs time to heal.”
Why the fuck does everyone jump to sacrificing themselves to help me?
I’m not some damsel who’s refusing to accept the responsibility for my actions.
I’ll take them, like I should have when I killed her motherfucking grandson.
I’m about to taunt her with every detail of his death when Lennox pleads, “Mother.”
She shifts her eyes to her son’s bowing head before she abruptly turns, marching out of the room.
He doesn’t fall back or limp as he turns to stop blocking the door.
Blood stains his chest through the crisscross rips in the material.
The lacerations are deeper than the ones Kane had, ripping his skin in bursts.
He talks in the same soothing cadence since he stopped me killing myself.
“Get back in the bed, little doe. You need rest.”
“You’re hurt.” I sound dumb as fuck, like he’s unaware of his own body. He’s taller than Kane and I feel like a child as I look up at him. “Why did you get hurt for me?”
“You’re my niece now,” he says simply as though no other explanation is required on his way to the sink.
My parents never provided me any care as their daughter, but he’s showing me loyalty over a fake marriage. When he removes his suit jacket and torn shirt, I wince at the large purple burn on his back. There’s a long thin shape before it widens into a curved arrow with different spikes.
“How did that happen?” I ask.
He looks over his shoulder at my question, his lips lifting the corners into a half smile. “It’s not on your conscience, little doe.”
“Why do you call me that?” I step closer, stopping at the threshold of the bathroom, holding the door jamb as he runs the water to clean his wounds.
“A doe is flighty, fearful of the sounds around her. It’s not for the reasons man thinks as he arrogantly steps into her territory.
” He wets a washcloth and looks down, wiping around the cuts.
“When bucks fight, their violence is expected. Yet, a doe? There’s something magnificent in a fearful creature finding their strength, protecting what belongs to them. ”
“So you think I’ll overcome my fear?”
“No, I know you’re afraid. I know you fight in spite of fear.
It’s easy for those who have nothing to sacrifice that emptiness since they don’t have to part with anything other than their own ego.
You, little doe—” He turns as he continues cleaning around his cuts.
“—were fearful, but you only fought to protect someone you deemed yours. You’ve always been Kane’s armor.
Even as a girl, when you thought he was holding your hand, you were holding his too. ”
“It’s kind of creepy you were watching us, but that bitch is your mother, so I get it.”
His lips twitch again, which I translate as a laugh.
“Do you want me to help you? I can do stitches,” I offer, taking half a step forward.
“I’m equipped to deal with the repercussions of my family. As you eloquently stated, that bitch is my mother.”
I pause, staying beside the door because it’s disconcerting to stand in front of someone with the same face as a monster.
Kane and Asher always existed separately to me.
I could split their actions from their looks, but with Lennox, it’s harder.
He dips his head, hiding his eyes like he knows how freaky they are in my memory.
“I know you’re not him,” I whisper.
“I understand.” He turns back around and the loneliness that always clung to Kane is in front of me like it’s traveled through time and his bloodline to fix itself to his uncle.
“I’m sorry, it must be difficult for you to be associated with someone who has done the things he has. I can’t imagine what it was like for you growing up with them here.”
“Both you and Kane have a need to pity those around you. I’ll give you the same advice I gave him. Bury your humanity. It’s the only way you’ll survive.”