Chapter 1
Chapter One
Now
DELPHI
I feel like I’m swimming through tar. Exhaustion weighs on me, begging me to give up and drift away, but there’s an annoying buzz in the back of my head that won’t let me.
It pokes and scratches until it becomes impossible to ignore.
My annoyance pushes further, urging me to just get this over with—whatever this is—so I can find some peace.
I claw my way through the darkness, ripping at the cobwebs in my head as I get closer and closer to the surface.
Eventually, I’m floating above the thick molasses thoughts, my eyes gradually opening. The light makes me hiss as I slam them closed once more.
“Del?” I turn my head toward the gravelly voice, which is familiar. My fuzzy brain isn’t quite able to place it as it focuses on more important things like where the hell I am and what happened.
“Babe, squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”
I squeeze my hand on reflex, and hear a rush of breath, the sound of pure relief, before I feel warm lips on the back of my hand.
“Thank fuck.”
I open my eyes again, this time more slowly. Fear is starting to creep in now. What the hell happened to me? The floaty disconnect is making it hard to concentrate for long. When I manage to get my eyes fully open and keep them open, I focus on the face that goes with the voice.
My eyes fall on his scars—three jagged and torn marks that run across the left side of his face.
The first one runs from his temple to just above his lip, narrowly missing his eye.
The second runs from his cheekbone to his jaw, and the third skims the edge of his jaw for a couple of inches before edging down his throat.
To say he was lucky is an understatement.
I’ve heard dozens of stories about how he got them, from a vicious fight with a neighboring MC to tripping and falling into some kind of machinery.
The real story is that he got mauled by a bear.
A real-life bear tore into his face. Yet somehow he managed to walk away.
I’ve encountered so many people over the years, women especially, who grimaced or reacted with fear at the sight of the scars, like they were contagious or something.
I’ve always found myself oddly curious about them.
To survive something like that takes more than just courage.
It takes determination and a sheer force of will to live.
I don’t think I ever felt like that before.
I’ve always been more of a quiet person than a fighter.
I can’t say it’s a fight or flight response because I don’t run either.
I have zero sense of self-preservation. If my life were a horror movie—and god knows it often resembles one—I’d be the kid who curls up under the covers, hoping the monster doesn’t see them.
As I’ve gotten older, those covers have hidden me well, as my brushes with monsters seem to occur with an alarming frequency. And yet, here I am.
I wonder if my life might be like that movie, where everyone escapes death just to realize they are marked by it anyway. And now they’re being hunted down by it years later. It would explain why I’m in a hospital bed again.
“You still with me, Del?”
I blink. Was I ever really with him? No. Once upon a time, I thought we were friends. But that was never the case. To him, I was Snake’s old lady—nothing more, nothing less, and in the end, nothing at all.
I turn away as I feel tears gathering. Like fuck will I let this man see me cry. I swore after that night—no, I’m not going there.
“Why are you here?” I manage to choke out. Holy fuck, is that what I sound like?
“Why am I here? You…I…fuck!” I hear the chair scrape back as he stands up. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the door to slam as he stomps out. I jump when I feel rough hands gently cup my face.
My eyes snap open and lock on his ravaged ones. “You almost fucking died,” he whispers.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but almost doesn’t count.”
“No. Fuck that, almost is too close. Much too fucking close. Don’t you ever do that to me again.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. It bursts free before I can swallow it down. The sound of it hurts my ears. Kruger winces, his head dipping so he can press his forehead against mine.
“Don’t pretend this isn’t what you all wanted, what you all thought I deserved.”
He growls, but I can’t deal with him right now. Whatever they gave me is starting to wear off, and the pain is making itself known.
“Just go, Kruger. I’ll stay away. I won’t taint Hazel with my presence. Trust me, I don’t want anything to do with Raven Souls.”
“Del—”
“Don’t call me that! Just go. You’ve never had any issue abandoning me before, why should now be any different?”
I ignore the look of pain that flickers across his face.
“Just fucking go!” I scream. The pressure and yelling are all too much. White flashes behind my eyes, and my vision dims as pain has me leaning over and throwing up. I vaguely hear Kruger yelling before I slip into sweet oblivion.
The next time I wake up, the room is dark.
I can hear the rhythmic beeping of a machine, which I don’t recall hearing before.
I focus on it, using the repetitiveness to help me stay in the here and now.
My mouth feels dry, and my throat feels sore when I swallow.
What I wouldn’t give for something cold to drink.
My head does not feel as fuzzy, but it is heavy.
I reach up with a shaky hand and gulp when I feel a bandage wrapped around my head and under my jaw.
I let my eyes drift closed as memories trickle back in.
The grenade, taking it from Midas, knowing that I couldn’t let Hazel lose him.
If I could protect her from even a fraction of that pain, I would.
I didn’t have a plan in mind. I just needed to get it away from everyone.
I needed a secluded spot, and that’s when I remembered mine and Lee’s place.
I hadn’t been back there in years. Too many memories were attached to it.
All of them were good, but all of them were tainted by the evil Lee hid from me.
It seemed somehow fitting to blow up the place where he proposed to me and inadvertently put me on a path that would blow apart my whole world. Why not go out with a bang? I was tired of fighting the inevitable.
When the door opens, I brace myself, but sigh in relief when I see it’s a doctor.
“Ah, you’re awake. Excellent. Do you know where you are?”
“The hospital?”
“That’s good. And your name?”
“Delphine Anders.” I go on to reel off my age and date of birth before I hesitate on my address.
I don’t have one anymore, thanks to my apartment and building burning to the ground.
I give him my parents’ address instead, as he examines me before giving me a rundown of my injuries.
Broken arm, which I’d figured out from the purple cast, a litany of first degree burns on my arms and back, my hair had been singed too, though that seems to matter little since a chunk had been shaved away so they could perform brain surgery.
“I’m sorry, did you say brain surgery?”
“I did. And thankfully, it went about as perfectly as we can hope when poking around in someone’s head.
You fractured your skull, Miss Anders, and had extensive swelling on the brain.
We took a piece of the skull away to ease the pressure.
Unfortunately, you had a small bleed, which caused you to black out not long after you last woke up, but we caught it in time, and everything looks good now.
It goes without saying you need lots of rest and no stress. ”
“I’m in a pretty serious relationship with stress.”
“Well, I believe it might be time for you to break up.” He smirks.
“Alright, burns, blisters, and brain surgery. Anything else for me to worry about?”
“Bruises. Your whole body is covered in bruises and contusions. With no way to put this delicately, you’re going to hurt like a motherfucker for a while.”
“Perfect. Though it seems manageable for now.”
“That’s because you’re on the good stuff. Give it a couple of days when we wean you onto something lighter.”
“Yippee, something to look forward to.”
“I’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor, Miss Anders, you’re gonna need it.”
“Your bedside manner needs a little work.”
“I try to be honest with my patients.”
“Yeah, don’t do that. I know if I look in a mirror right now, I’m going to look like Frankenstein’s monster’s uglier cousin.
However, I expect you to tell me that I’m still pretty and the damage will all fade away so I can just go back to worrying about crow’s feet and wrinkles like most women my age. ”
“You’re single, aren’t you?”
“What gave it away, the bitter edge in my tone or the lack of partner hovering beside me?”
“No, you needing a jackass like me with no bedside manner to tell you you’re pretty when we both know you’re way beyond fucking pretty.”
“Okay, that was good. I forgive you.”
“Much obliged. Now, I’m going to be keeping you in for a while yet. You know, on account of the whole you missing a piece of your skull thing.”
“Probably wise.” I sigh, not wanting to stay, but knowing I have no options. “I don’t want my brain to fall out, after all.”
“That would be a tragedy.”
I feel my lips twitch, and again marvel that, given everything he just told me, I’m not in more pain.
“I have rounds to do, but I’ll be back to check on you later. Is there anything you need before I go?”
“A drink? My throat’s killing me.”
“Side effect of having a tube down it, I’m afraid.” He walks over to the table at the end of my bed and pours me a cup full of water before handing it to me.
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you. It’s been a tough week. Patients dying left and right. I thought I was losing my touch.”
“Again, your bedside manner sucks. Who says that to someone?” I grumble, holding out the now-empty cup for him to refill.
“You, Miss Anders, are a breath of fresh air.”
“I’m something alright.”
He fills my cup once more before placing the jug back down and heading to the door. “You might not feel like it once the meds wear off, but you were incredibly lucky.”
“Yeah, that’s me—lucky.” I snort. If he fucking knew what my life has been like, he’d rethink that statement. Instead, he tips his imaginary cap at me as he opens the door.
“Doc?”
He turns to look at me over his shoulder.
“I don’t want any visitors.”
He looks at me for a second before his gaze turns to where I’m assuming the waiting room is. “You sure? There’s a—”
“I’m sure. Some people just get off on seeing how the mighty have fallen, and I’m tired of being the punchline of everyone’s joke.”
He hesitates before I point to my head. “You said no stress in case my brain falls out, right?”
“Something like that. But yes, you’re right. No stress. I’ll pass along the message that you want no visitors.”
“Thank you.”
“For what it’s worth, if someone’s determined enough, they’ll find a way in.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.” And with the look he’s giving me, we both know I’m talking about more than my hospital room.