Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
DELPHI
I existed for the next couple of months in a disconnected fog, going through the motions as my brain tried to shield me from everything. Thankfully, both my and Kruger’s test results came back clear, so I didn’t have to worry about that on top of everything.
It wasn’t so bad. I kept myself busy to the point of exhaustion.
I spent my days preparing the shop for opening, spending time with Legs, and loving on Hero.
Once that was done, I returned to the house we’d moved into last month and continued to find ways to make it feel like a home.
It was beyond important to me that it be a sanctuary of sorts for Kruger, Theo, and me, but particularly for Theo.
Having him here heals a tiny part of me each day, and I get to see him bloom under my love and Kruger’s pride.
The nights are what were killing me. Not even reading Kruger’s letters helped.
The shadows taunted me with secrets I didn’t want to know.
Every memory haunted me, every conversation, every decision I made that helped a predator keep its prey caged.
My love for him was the key that allowed him to lock me away, and I was utterly blind to it.
I’d started going back to therapy, seeing a new therapist after my old one had moved.
It was hard to connect with her. She seemed to want to focus on my childhood and my parents.
Though I know there is a reason they do this, I felt I was covering old ground, digging around unnecessarily in places that had already healed with the passage of time.
I never spoke of what was said at the clubhouse that day.
People had, for the most part, not mentioned it, but I could see the worry in their eyes.
This brave front I was putting on was fooling no one, but I couldn’t break.
Not now. If I gave in and let myself really feel the pain, I’d never recover.
People walked on eggshells around me, careful not to trip on anything that might trigger me, making it impossible for me to move on.
And so I kept mentally running, feeling the icy hands of the past claw at me, wanting to drag me under and consume me whenever I tried to slow down. The past was always hanging over me, and it was beginning to fray the picture I had in my head for the future.
I was stuck in this twisted limbo, too afraid to turn around and face my demons, but too exhausted to hold on much longer without breaking.
“Earth to Delphi?”
I jolt at the sound of Circus’s voice and paste on a smile as I turn to face him. “Sorry, I was miles away. You guys done for the day?”
Circus leans on the counter and looks me over. “Yeah. Capone is just loading up the truck. You want to come back to the clubhouse with us for a bit? You said Kruger was at work until late, right?”
I’d forced Kruger to go back to work. One, because it was important to him, but also because his hovering was suffocating me. He relented when he realized I was rarely alone. That, and I promised to wear the new cuff he’d bought for me, which doubled as a medical ID bracelet.
“He is, yeah. But Theo is meeting me here and we’re going over to the diner to eat.”
“Fair enough. You want me to wait until he gets here?”
I look at my watch and shake my head. “He’ll be here any minute.”
He taps the counter. “Alright, but tomorrow is Friday. You’re coming out with me and Capone for beer and burgers.”
“I can’t drink anymore,” I remind him. Not that I ever really did before.
“You can have a nonalcoholic beer or a Coke.”
I’m about to make my excuses, but he wraps his arm around me. I hold myself stiff for a minute, eventually soften toward him, and let myself hug him back.
“Don’t say no.”
“Oh, alright. But I want to play pool too. It’s been a while since I kicked your asses.”
“Deal.” He gives me another quick squeeze before pulling back. He looks around the room with a look of pride. “It’s really starting to look good in here.”
“You guys are doing an amazing job.”
And it was true, they were. The room had been stripped of everything, and an opening had been cut in the wall that separated the main room from the one Midas had used for storage.
Swing doors that resemble shutters usher you through that opening, into the kitchen area with sleek new appliances.
I’d toyed with removing a larger chunk of the wall so the kitchen area was visible to the customers, but decided against it.
Watching food being prepped wasn’t what would draw people here, and it ruined the whole ambiance I was going for.
The office in the back remains, but it has been given a makeover, as has the restroom, which would now be available for public use.
The primary focus, though is the high counter with a cash register sits to the far left of the room.
Behind that is a top-of-the-line coffee machine that would serve a huge variety of coffees, along with every syrup and creamer known to man.
Comfortable sofas and oversized armchairs were scattered around the room, perfect for curling up and reading a book.
There were tables and chairs with a shabby chic finish, a few shades lighter than the oak flooring.
The bookcases that lined the outside of the room were made of the same wood and showcased what the shop had to offer.
They were only partly filled right now, but I was expecting more deliveries over the next few days.
There was a large ornate fireplace that would be perfect for the winter months, drawing people in when the nights turned cooler.
If I close my eyes, I can see the place alive and filled with people, sipping coffee and curled up, with warm lamps and soft music adding to the ambiance.
“I’ve lost you again, haven’t I?”
I open my eyes and chuckle. “I was just picturing it all. You’ve really outdone yourselves. It’s everything I wanted.”
“Will it earn me coffee on the house?”
“Of course. Though, don’t be surprised if you find yourself attracting the attention of a book girl or two.”
“Please, they have nothing on club girls.”
I snort. “Oh my sad, sweet, uneducated man. Book girlies are a whole different breed of crazy. Just ask Neveah.”
He frowns, looking confused, so I take pity on him.
“Bikers in the real world can be intimidating to most people, but book girlies just see a thirst trap. Being kidnapped is considered foreplay, and knowing how to murder someone and get away with it is a flex most can boast about.”
“I’m not sure I’m supposed to be turned on by this, but…” He looks down at his dick. Naturally, I follow suit before I realize what I’m doing and see he is indeed getting hard.
I smack him in the chest, hurting my hand and not him at all, judging by his smirk.
“You can tell me more about book women tomorrow. I’ll take notes.”
“Dear god, I’ve created a monster. You should ask Neveah. I bet she can give you a lot of information. Hell, the only thing crazier than a reader who has a thirst for smutty goodness is the author who writes it. I bet you’d be surprised at the random crap she has stored in her head.”
He looks at me and snorts. “No, I wouldn’t. That woman is crazier than a soup sandwich.”
“Who comes up with these sayings?” I grumble as he laughs and walks backward to the door.
“See you tomorrow, Delphi.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble, waving to Capone, who is already waiting in the truck.
Once I’m alone again, I let the smile slip from my face. I look around the place, and instead of seeing warmth and comfort, I see lots of places for people to hide.
“Damn you, Lee,” I hiss, clenching my fists. “Haven’t you taken enough?” I snap before moving around the building to make sure everything is locked up. I recheck my watch before heading upstairs.
All of Theo’s stuff has been moved to the house, so it’s pretty bare up here. It’s a spot he mostly uses to do homework while I’m pottering around. But right now, it’s a quiet space for me to breathe without anyone judging me.
I walk into the bathroom, flip on the light, and stare at myself in the mirror.
I look the same, maybe a little thinner because my appetite has been shot to shit lately.
But for the most part, people will see the illusion I painted with a delicate hand, a few brush strokes of color to hide the pale skin and dark eyes underneath.
I have an insane urge to wash away the makeup to check for cracks and visible proof that I’m fracturing.
I grip the countertop and take a few deep breaths, unwilling to risk a panic attack in case it triggers another seizure.
Thankfully, I haven’t had one in a while, largely because I’m unwilling to push through the fog and deal with shit.
I keep telling myself that it’s better for my mental health to seal the box closed and move on.
Nothing good can come from unearthing something that’s been buried for so long.
It’s not that it will trigger a memory. I’ve had zero flashbacks, vague recalls, or even a sense of déjà vu from any of the nights Lee pimped me out to his friends.
I grip the counter harder, my fingers turning white at the thought.
Pimping me out. He sold my unconscious body and made a profit off it. I shake my head, feeling vomit swirl in my gut at the thought, and snap the lid back on the box.
No, it won’t do me any good to go there. In a way, it’s a blessing that whatever he drugged me with stole any recollection of what happened. It’s hard enough to deal with the knowledge that it happened without having to cope with the emotional aftermath of traumatic memories invading my brain.
My cell phone pings, so I pull it out from the back pocket of my jeans and see it’s a message from Theo. I open it and frown when I read it.
Going to be late, heading to a friend’s house to study for a test tomorrow.