30. Delaney
CHAPTER 30
Delaney
M y parent’s house was strangely quiet when I arrived home two days later.
I hate being here, but the determination coursing through me wins out. The only way out is to pack clothing and necessities and steal more money from Mom to tide me over until Callie and I receive our first paycheck.
My spine stiffens with resolve. I’m leaving here and never coming back.
“Hi, sweetie.” My mom strolls into the foyer, smiling like everything is normal. I’m sure I’m staring at her like she’s insane, but I can’t comprehend how she accepts this life. I don’t know if it’s blind faith that he’ll never seriously injure or kill her, but whatever it is, I can’t deal with it anymore.
If she notices my perplexed expression, she ignores it. “Did you and Callie have fun?”
I nod, my tongue like wool when I spit out, “Yeah. I always have fun with her.”
“That’s good.” She pats my shoulder before turning and heading toward the kitchen. “Feel like a snack? I was thinking about making cookies.”
Although I’m not hungry, I perk up. “Chocolate chip?”
“Of course.”
“Count me in. Let me take my bag to my room, and I’ll join you.”
She nods, and I wait for her to disappear before heading upstairs. I check Daniel’s room to ensure its empty before heading to her room and peeking in to ensure my father isn’t lurking around.
Exhaling, I head to the bench by her bed where her purse sits. Opening it, I grab a wad of cash before putting it back exactly as she had it and tiptoeing to my room.
My heart bangs inside my chest as I shut my door. I feel sick for stealing from her, even though I know it’s necessary for survival.
Heading to my closet, I grab my giant duffle bag and stick the cash inside the small, zippered compartment. Then I set about packing some things, including the photos of Zayne. I slide my burner phone inside, shoving it inside the pocket of a pair of shorts.
I grab a smaller bag and head to the bathroom, packing some toiletries for the trip.
I look around my bedroom for the last time, silently saying goodbye. The only good memories I have are of Zayne and me. But even they are tainted by all the pain and secrets between us.
I shove the two bags in the back of my closet before closing the door. Then I take a deep breath before opening my door to join my mom in the kitchen.
Try to make the most of it. This will be the last time you see her.
Eight hours later, I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Callie’s car, my duffle bags safely stowed in her trunk. “I want to make one pit stop before we leave town to say goodbye to Mark.”
“Mark from the concession stand?” I raise my brows, turning my face from the window to look at the blush on her cheeks.
“Yeah. The guy has a magical tongue. I don’t want to burn that bridge. I hope to convince him to visit us in Cape May.”
I giggle, shaking my head. “You’re something else.”
“That’s why you love me.”
Ten minutes later, I’m twiddling my thumbs in the passenger seat, listening to music. I bite my lip as I pull out my old phone that my dad had taken from me. I stole into his office and retrieved it before Callie picked me up. He deactivated the service, but for whatever reason, he never deleted the texts or photos that Zayne and I exchanged. Probably keeping them as evidence against me.
My finger traces over the chiseled lines of Zayne’s face, remembering the feel of the stubble on his jawline against my skin.
My heart stutters inside my chest as I stare out through the windshield. I can’t leave without saying goodbye. Even if he’s not there, I can leave a note.
Reaching around, I grab my burner phone from my backpack before sliding into the driver’s seat. I send Callie a quick text, and before I can second guess myself, I shift her car into drive and hit the gas. Zayne’s dad’s bar is only about ten minutes away.
My hands shake nervously as I clutch the wheel, partly because I’m unsure what to say if he is there.
Pulling into the parking lot, I find a spot near a bunch of thick pine trees that separate Zayne’s dad’s place of business from the local flea mart beside it.
My legs shake as I climb from Callie’s car, not bothering to take my phone.
I heave out a deep breath and slowly make my way across the pot-hole-laden parking lot. I’m lost in thought as I carefully weave toward the entrance, oblivious to my surroundings.
A hand clamps over my mouth, and I squeal, but the sound is muffled. I struggle against my attacker as he drags me around to the side of the bar.
The loud music vibrates through me as I’m spun around. My eyes widen as I take in my father’s furious, bulging eyes before his fist hits me in the stomach. I double over, gasping for breath as he continues his assault.
“Fucking worthless whore,” he seethes. “I’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking off to see this worthless asshole in a seedy bar.” He kicks me in the ribs.
I squeal as he grabs me by the back of the hair, dragging me to my feet. “Maybe this will finally teach you a lesson.” His fist cracks against my nose, the sickening crunch of bone against bone resounding in my ears. The copper scent surrounds me as the thick, viscous liquid trickles over my lips.
“Zayne Morine is a poor prick who will never be worth a damn.”
Defiance races through me as I lift my head, not caring about the blood dripping from my nose. “He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.”
His fist smashes against my eye, and I drop to the ground. “If you choose that asshole, you’re dead to me.”
The roar of a motorcycle engine causes my father’s head to jerk up. As I stare up at him through my one good eye, the coward takes off around the back of the bar, leaving me lying broken and bloody on the ground.
Tears spill from my eyes, even though it hurts to cry.
My hands ball into fists as I lay on the ground, wondering if this is how Zayne felt when I left him.
God, I’m so sorry, Zayne.
Sobbing into the overgrown grass along the side of the bar, I lie there alone, feeling worthless and unloved.
The bass from the loud music inside vibrates through my aching body as I slowly climb to my feet. Dusk has descended, darkening the land.
My head pounds, and everything hurts as I stumble toward the bar, which is closer than my car.
Please, God, let Zayne be inside. Have him help me, even though I don’t deserve it.