Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
The day had been so chaotic that Delilah had missed her court mandated therapy session—not that Rowan was upset.
She needed time to think, to prepare for what Delilah might do.
They’d spent hours in that room, Delilah and Riley, after kicking Rowan out.
Plotting. Scheming. Rowan was falling more and more behind, kicking herself for whatever information Riley had gotten from her.
From the implication that the whole thing was a set up.
When Riley finally told Rowan they were finished, her hand lingering on Rowan’s bicep and her eyes promising this wouldn’t be their last encounter, Delilah was absolutely furious.
Their short walk back to her room was silent, Delilah’s fuming directed not at Rowan, but Riley.
And that left Rowan wondering what the hell Riley did to make Delilah so angry.
Rowan spent the entire night thinking. She’d hardly gotten any sleep at all. Riley had texted her, a hidden threat.
Can’t wait to see you again.
Tuesday morning left Rowan worse for wear.
The lack of sleep was catching up to her quickly, but the adrenaline of seeing Delilah again after the new revelation was overtaking her exhaustion.
Anticipation thrummed through her veins as she walked slowly down the hallway, inching steadily closer to her fate.
“Hands on the wall,” she ordered—as she always did—when she reached Delilah’s room. The stark change in their relationship made her fidget while she waited for Delilah to comply. Everything felt different now. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders that she hadn’t known she was carrying.
Things between them were shifting. The secrets were dissolved. They were even now, playing on the same level. Rowan didn’t have to hold back.
“How did you get the knife?” she hissed while she cuffed Delilah’s wrists. Delilah smiled at her, none of the ire from the previous day showing.
“I already told you,” she said, enjoying this entirely too much. “An admirer.”
“Bullshit. I know you killed her.”
“Prove it,” Delilah taunted, eyeing up the officers guarding the door as Rowan pushed her down the hallway.
“Tell me how you did it,” Rowan demanded, her voice low to keep the officers behind them from hearing.
Delilah hummed, leaning into Rowan’s space as much as she could manage.
“Why do you want to know? Taking notes?” she asked, looking up at Rowan through her thick lashes.
“Want to try something out yourself?” Her voice was a seductive purr, a tease, a warning.
Rowan’s body heated in response. “You know I’ll never say anything incriminating.
My lawyer is prepared to handle anything, and I am not going anywhere until I’m finished with you. ”
“You don’t even know what you want from me, Delilah.”
She didn’t give Delilah a chance to respond before throwing the door to Bronwin’s office open and shoving her inside. She would be lying if Rowan said she wasn’t worried about this session, if she wasn’t thinking about what Delilah would say or do now.
Rowan’s body was alight with awareness as she cuffed Delilah to the chair in front of Bronwin’s desk.
She was tense, expecting something, anything, but Delilah wasn’t giving an inch.
Her predatory gaze followed Rowan. She tried to remember how to walk normally on her way to take up her standard position against the wall.
“Well,” Bronwin said, her tone huffy despite the forced smile on her face. “It has been a busy few days for you, hasn’t it?”
Delilah stared at her, unimpressed and clearly unwilling to participate in their session today.
“Let’s begin by discussing why you felt the need for an unapproved stroll through the lower levels of our facility?”
“Was it really unapproved if my guards were supervising the whole time?”
“Yes,” Bronwin cried exasperated. “It was not authorized by myself or Adele.”
Delilah shrugged, a slight pout on her lips. “Even in prison I was allowed to walk around. The guards agreed it was inhumane.”
“If you believe you are suffering here, Delilah, then you need to discuss your concerns with me. I am happy to have something arranged to make you comfortable.” Bronwin’s voice had softened with sympathy, and Rowan barely held back her snort.
There was absolutely no way in hell that Delilah thought she was suffering. Whatever fucked-up plan she and Riley had concocted before she was transferred must have included Delilah’s need to get her murderous tendencies out.
“It just feels like you should have thought of that before. Do the other patients get free time?
“Everyone at this facility is provided with the means to best suit their individual needs and accommodate their own healing journeys. Let’s expand on how this difference makes you feel.”
Delilah straightened up, her lips tilting into a faint smile as if she knew she was going to get what she wanted. “It feels like I got transferred to another prison,” Delilah snapped. “If I had known that, I wouldn’t have come here. I thought you were here to help me.”
Rowan rolled her eyes. Bronwin again softened, sympathy creasing her features.
“You’re right,” she said. Rowan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“I apologize that you’ve been treated more like an inmate than a patient.
Would you like me to further explain the security risks and reasons as to why we can’t have you walking around freely? ”
“I’m not asking to walk freely,” Delilah drawled quickly.
“I’ll have Rowan with me.” She paused. Her lips pursed in thought even though Rowan knew it was just a show.
Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe,” Delilah said slowly, like the idea had just come to her, “instead of going outside or wandering where other patients are, I could just see some of the premises. Like”—she shrugged, glancing at Rowan—“her office?”
“We’ll discuss it.” Bronwin agreed with a nod. A request that simple, reasonable even, Rowan knew they’d say yes.
She wanted them to say yes.