Chapter 45 Delaney
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Delaney
By evening, the house has gone quiet in a way that makes my skin prickle.
I sit on the edge of my bed longer than necessary.
My hair is still damp from the shower. My skin smells of soap and hot water and effort.
I scrubbed harder than I needed to, like I could wash away the echo of his hand on my wrist. My body knows better.
It remembers things my brain would rather compress into something smaller and easier to live with.
I’m not shaking anymore.
That almost scares me.
Eventually, I force myself up and follow the low murmur of voices down the hall. Each step is a decision. Each breath feels like something I have to remember how to do.
They’re all there.
Boone in his chair, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, holding the room together by force alone.
Caleb on the couch, posture relaxed but eyes sharp, tracking me the second I appear.
He’s been waiting for this moment without wanting to rush it.
Silas leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, jaw tight in a way that tells me the jokes are staying locked away tonight.
No one speaks. They just look at me.
I sit on the edge of the chair like I might bolt if I get too comfortable. Boone slides a glass of water across the table toward me without asking. I wrap my hands around it even though I’m not thirsty. I just need something solid.
“I’m sorry,” I say, because it’s the reflex I haven’t trained out of myself yet.
Silas exhales sharply. “Nope.”
I blink.
“That’s not how this goes,” he says. “You don’t apologize for someone cornering you.”
My mouth opens. Closes. I nod instead.
Boone doesn’t look at me right away. When he does, his gaze is controlled.
“You don’t have to tell us anything,” he says. “But if you want to, we’re listening.”
My chest gives.
“A couple of days ago, I was at the café,” I say quietly. “And Savannah gave me his number.”
All three of them react at once.
“Savannah?” Silas repeats, brows shooting up.
“The barista?” Caleb asks.
Boone’s eyes sharpen. “She gave you his number?”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “She thought it was a job lead. He came in asking about me, said he was looking to hire someone. Left it like it was no big deal.”
Silas swears under his breath. “That’s—”
“I know,” I say. “I know how it sounds.”
Boone leans forward. “You thought it was legitimate?”
“I did. I wasn’t interested in… getting another job.” I meet his gaze, ignoring the tightness in my chest. “The text was professional. Nothing that screamed Marcus.”
Caleb frowns. “And you didn’t recognize the number?”
“No.” I shake my head. “It wasn’t his old number. I told myself it was just… information. That I didn’t have to do anything with it.”
Silas studies me. “You were curious.”
“Yes,” I admit. “I wasn’t looking to go back. I just wanted to know what it was.”
Boone exhales slowly through his nose, reining anger in. “And then?”
“I walked into the café and saw him sitting there,” I say. “Like I was late to his meeting.”
Silas’s jaw tightens. “Shit.”
“I turned to leave immediately,” I continue. “But he followed me, trying to talk about New York. About how I was ‘wasting myself’ here. I walked away, but seeing him brought all those memories back. Silas found me…”
I pause, well aware that they saw the state I was in yesterday, no matter how hard I tried to keep it together.
“He kept sending messages, and I realized he wasn’t going to leave me alone unless I put a stop to it. So I agreed to meet him. And then this morning, when I firmly told him no,” I say, quieter now, “when I told him I wasn’t going back, he grabbed my wrist.”
The room goes still.
Boone doesn’t move at all. Silas’s hands flex at his sides. Caleb’s jaw locks hard.
“He didn’t hurt me,” I add, automatically. “Not violently. It wasn’t… dramatic.”
Boone looks straight at me. “It doesn’t have to be.”
“It was just enough,” I say softly. “Enough to remind me that he could.”
Silas is rough. “That’s manipulation, Delaney.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I just didn’t see it in time.”
Caleb clears his throat. “And the job? The kitchen?”
“That was always the hook,” I say. “He talked about the industry like it was still mine. Like he hadn’t already let it burn me alive.”
Silence settles again.
Then Boone says, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Silas steps closer. “You followed information you were given in good faith.”
Caleb nods. “That doesn’t make this your fault.”
“I wasn’t trying to go back,” I say quietly. “I swear. I just… wanted to know.”
Boone softens. “That’s allowed.”
By the time I finish, my throat feels scraped raw. My chest feels hollowed out.
No one says anything.
Then Boone speaks. “He won’t come near you again.”
I want to believe that. I really do.
“But what if he does?” I ask. “What if he decides this town is small enough to make a point?”
Silas straightens. “Then we make it very clear that it isn’t.”
Caleb leans forward. “There are legal ways to make sure of that.”
My stomach tightens instantly. “I’m not—”
“I know,” he says calmly. “Just hear us out.”
Boone is the first to speak. “There are options.”
I tense immediately, but he doesn’t push.
“Tools,” he adds.
Caleb nods. “Documentation, for one. Writing down what happened while it’s fresh.”
Silas shifts his weight. “A report doesn’t mean charges. It means a record.”
I stare at the glass in my hands. “And a restraining order?”
Boone inclines his head. “If you want it.”
That qualifier matters.
I swallow. “I don’t want to be dramatic.”
Silas lets out a quiet, humorless breath. “You’re not.”
“I don’t want this to turn into a whole thing,” I say. “I don’t want people looking at me like I invited it.”
Caleb is calm. “Wanting distance from someone who scared you isn’t a spectacle.”
“And you’re not weak for needing backup,” Silas adds. “You shouldn’t have to be quiet to be safe.”
I shake my head. “The police just… freak me out.”
Boone watches me carefully. “Because of him?”
“Because of everything,” I admit. “Fluorescent lights. Clipboards. People who don’t know the context. Who don’t understand how power works when someone’s good at spinning a story.”
Caleb nods slowly. “That’s true.”
Silas crosses his arms, expression softening. “But going in with support changes that.”
“I don’t want him to win by dragging me back into it,” I say quietly.
Boone doesn’t waver. “He doesn’t win because you protect yourself.”
I stare at the floor.
I think about running. About changing my number. My name. My life. Again.
I’m tired of that.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Silas nods like I made a strong decision, and he expected nothing less.
“So,” he says after a beat, lighter but careful, “what happens next?”
I shrug. “I’ll do it tomorrow, I guess.”
Boone nods. “If you want.”
That small addition matters more than he probably realizes.
Caleb asks, “Do you want to go alone, or…?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admit. “I just know I don’t want to rush it.”
“Then don’t,” Boone says immediately. “There’s no deadline on doing this right.”
Silas tilts his head. “But if you decide you want backup. Moral, emotional, intimidating—”
Despite everything, a weak smile pulls at my mouth.
Caleb continues, practical as ever. “If you want someone there but not in the room, that’s an option too.”
I look between them. “You’ve all thought about this.”
Boone exhales through his nose. “I’ve had reason to.”
That tells me plenty.
“There’s a deputy in town who handles these kinds of reports properly,” he adds. “By the book. No minimizing. No nonsense.”
I nod slowly. “Okay. Tomorrow,” I say. “I’ll try tomorrow.”
Boone’s head dips once. “I’ll be ready.”
When I stand, exhaustion hits me all at once.
“I’m going to try to sleep,” I say.
Boone rises immediately. “I’ll walk you.”
Silas snorts. “We’re not escorting her to bed like Victorian chaperones.”
I almost smile.
At my door, I hesitate.
“I… thank you,” I say. “For believing me. For not making this smaller.”
Boone inclines his head. “You don’t have to thank us for doing what’s right.”
Silas steps in first and presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “You’re safe here, sunshine.”
Caleb’s kiss is quieter. A brush against my cheek. “We’ve got you.”
Boone’s last. His hand cups the back of my neck, his forehead resting briefly against mine.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he murmurs.
When the door closes, the house doesn’t feel so quiet anymore. And moving forward doesn’t feel like something I have to do by myself.