Chapter 89 Delilah
DELILAH
All the ideas of torture I had weren’t needed when Helene was fueled by control. But she’s covered in shit, burning in an empty house as I sit across Kane’s thighs, watching the thick black smoke swirl around the roaring flames burning across the island.
I push my hand into the pocket of my hoodie, flattening my palm over the photos and the sand timer.
My babies are with us while she’s nothing other than ash.
As soon as we get across the channel and Daigon’s phone gets network, he calls Ruby.
The dogs are sleeping at his feet without any blood on their faces so he must have bathed them.
I listen to the way this violent man softens for my sister.
“You can’t be angry, but I got the little demon pets.”
He must have it on loudspeaker because her heavy sigh can be heard over the waves. “You are not giving her a pet. She doesn’t even clean her own room.”
“I know, but there’s four of them, so we can have one each and learn together.”
“Daigon,” she softly exclaims. “You are not bringing four dogs home or you’re sleeping in the barn with them.”
Kane hugs me closer as he places his hand over mine on my stomach. Pressing his lips to my cheek, he whispers, “You did it, pretty girl. You remembered everything. You’re so much stronger than them.”
I lay my head on his shoulder, knowing it’s not the end. Their entire network of perversion needs to die, which isn’t a decision I can make alone when Ruby and Scarlet’s lives will be affected too. But I don’t want any more risks or fighting for my life while being sick to my stomach.
“I want Paris,” I whisper up at him.
“The city?”
“Yeah. I want the photos to be true. Me and you in Paris.”
He takes a deep breath, shifting in his seat as he avoids my eyes. When he looks back at me, there’s a strange look in his eye like he’s purposefully shutting me out. “You can have Paris. I’ll pay for you to go or live there.”
“But…” I twist so we’re face to face.
“But,” he says slowly, dragging in another deep breath, “I can’t be there with you.”
I’m going to throw him overboard.
“I’ll let you go. Have your own life.” He brushes my hair out of my face as the sea sprays up, soaking my shoulder. “That’s what’s supposed to happen now as proof I care about you. I’m sorry for everything I did.”
“So you’ve been lying to me?” I snap, incapable of removing the anger out of my voice when it’s taking everything in me not to beat the shit out of him. “You’ve done all of this for what? So we end up alone?”
The asshole starts laughing. There’s more light in his eyes as he pulls me back into his chest, kissing the top of my head. “You’re so gullible, pretty girl. Do you really think I’d ever let you go?”
“Asshole,” I mutter, nipping his side.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Delilah,” he whispers into my ear. “All of them combined wouldn’t be as stupid as allowing you to leave me. So you want Paris. We’ll go, do cheesy shit. I’ll propose to you in front of everyone, we’ll put a lock on a bridge, whatever you want is yours. I am yours.”
“Who said I forgave you?” I turn it on him as I look up to see the flames in the distance. The boy I fell in love with as a little girl is slowly coming back as he pulls my hood closer to my neck to stop me getting cold.
“I’ve already given my left arm to get you back, but none of it was to earn your forgiveness,” he says deeply against my lips.
“Hate me, love me, fight me. You’ll be doing it all as my wife.
The only way I can repay taking you from your life is by giving you more than I took, so you’re fucking stuck with me. ”
“They’re touching each other again!” Daigon shouts as he holds his hand flat against the side of his face to block us out.
Kane raises his middle finger in the air and tries to cup my cheek as he lifts his left arm. I hate the way his brows furrow when he doesn’t touch my face so I lean up to reach his lips and make sure the stub brushes my cheek.
TWO MONTHS LATER
Seraphim’s voice notes come through as soon as I walk into the home I share with my husband.
Kane owns the entire building after Scarlet kicked him in the balls for trying to kill her, then returned half of his assets.
It’s ours, fully safe since we have control of who enters and leaves.
I remind myself to keep referring to Kane as my husband so I don’t laugh at our upcoming third and final wedding that I’ll be both conscious and consenting to, for once.
“My mom said I’m not allowed a drum kit, so you have to buy me it for my birthday because she can’t say no then,” my niece whispers as her mom says no in the background.
“Play this for your mom but cover your ears. Eat shit, Rubes. You can’t tell me what to get my niece.” I drop my phone and keys on the coffee table, tilting my head to see what Kane’s doing on the balcony.
He doesn’t flinch when I walk out or try to hide his phone as a woman says, “I’m fine.”
Looking over his shoulder, he smiles with glassy eyes then softly says, “Okay, crazy pants. Ready to meet Delilah?”
“Wait, will she be scared?” the woman says.
“Nah, you’re good.” He pulls me into his side, lowering his phone so I’m in view of the woman who’s wearing the creepiest mask I’ve ever seen. “Your face is uglier so keep it covered or I’ll have to kick your ass for scaring my wife.”
“Sasha, I’m assuming?” I ask.
“What a loser,” she snorts. “You didn’t see each other for years, but you’re talking about me? That’s pathetic.”
“Well, she asked the reason for my psychosis so I had to tell her about you.”
They talk like brother and sister who’ve known each other a lifetime. I suppose it’s expected, given the things they’ve been through.
Her smile peeks through the slit of her mask as she looks at me. “He loves you in a really pathetic way. Be nice to him and then bully him for me.”
“I will. Until you come back to do it yourself.”
She gives a weak nod then lifts her hand, waving bye before she ends the call. Kane wraps his arms around me, resting his cheek on my hair as he breathes. He’s spent months waking up in the middle of the night, thinking she’d died when she wouldn’t answer her phone.
I rub his back, hearing the crinkling of the second skin from a new tattoo, then move over a few inches. On the days when the memories weigh him down, he always disappears. He comes back within a few hours with a second skin somewhere on his body—a new bright butterfly inked on him.
The one on the center of his throat was the first and biggest. All of the others have been hidden, worked in around his other tattoos, but he refuses to talk about what they mean.
After everything we’ve been through, I know if it’s too painful for him to talk about then I won’t be able to deal with it.
So I support him in those moments. The heavy ones and the ones like now where he pulls back, smiling at me—he’s my Kane.
These moments are our reward for the hard ones.
We made a promise to always be honest with each other.
Not about the small things like when he kicks ice under the fridge then acts like he doesn’t know where the puddle came from, or when I put too much salt in the first batch of whatever I make so I hide it at the bottom of the trash can.
Or when he said he wasn’t going to be cheesy and propose to me at the Eiffel Tower but did it anyway at the busiest time of day because he needed me to say yes in front of as many people as possible.
No, we’re honest about the big things. If we’re struggling and we need the world around us to be still for a day.
Today isn’t one of those days because he cups my cheek then kisses each point of my face like he’s worshiping me. “I’m cooking tonight,” he whispers against my lips. “Get ready for the best cereal you’ve ever tasted.”
“The best cereal?”
“Michelin-star cereal with award-winning milk.”
“I’ve had some good quality milk from Ruby’s cows.”
“It didn’t have the secret ingredient.” He wags his brows.
“Did you come in it? That’s unhygienic.”
“No, thanks for the idea, koukla mou.” He leans over me to rest his forehead on mine.
“I love you and I’m so immensely grateful to have you in my life.
I love the way you make me human, how strong you are, how resilient.
Most of all, Delilah, I love that you think I wouldn’t come in your bowl because it means I can still surprise you. ”
He laughs and I fall more in love with him.
Our dreams have adjusted as we’ve grown, but the one thing that’s remained the same is it’s Kane I want in my life.
Not need. Want. I could live without him.
The years without him were hard, but I survived.
Now I get to have the privilege of saying I choose to have him instead of clinging to him because I’m not strong enough to stand on my own.
We both agree we can’t raise a child in an unhealthy environment. Between the days we struggle to get out of the maze made of our minds, the ones where we feel the injustice of Rowan still existing, it wouldn’t be fair to raise a child. Our life works for both of us.
I’ve never been religious, but I hope there is something after this life. Some magical place free of evil where our babies are safe with Kane’s parents. I hope they know how loved they are.
Kane lifts me with his right arm under my thighs, wrapping his left around my waist. He’s tried multiple prosthetics, and he hates the way the liners feel. Laying my head on his shoulder, I ask, “Did you go back to be refitted?”
“Fuck it. They’re annoying.” He kisses my hairline as he carries me inside. “I don’t need to change myself to make everyone else comfortable.”
The Kane I first fell in love with constantly did that to his own detriment.
It’s taken pain, more heartache than we could’ve imagined, but we’ve grown.
Scarlet and Daigon have given him the details of every prosthetist they could find, even gotten him appointments to be fitted for a mechanical one.
He’s more comfortable like this, which is the thing that matters.
Setting me down on the sofa, he cups my jaw, tilting my face up. “Relax while I get your cereal ready, pretty girl.”
I’ve already seen the steaks in the fridge, so I know what’s on the menu like every single time he decides to have an impromptu at-home date.
I flick through the channels while pots and pans clatter in the kitchen.
The news never interests me when they don’t report on the truly evil things in this world.
Especially after Helene’s island was found, but as I try to skip them, the reporters voice blares, “Two months after a fire on an uninhabited island in the Channel Isles, emergency services have found 184 dead bodies in different states of decay.”
I drop the remote as the rest of the world falls away at the sight of the half-charred island.
“Some of the remains have been identified. The most notable is Monica Edric. The heiress was presumed dead with the rest of her family after their yacht capsized off the coast of Cannes. However, after further testing, her remains show she died at the age of twenty-nine, fifteen years after the Edric yacht tragedy.”
“Who is she?” Kane asks from behind me, making me jump.
“I don’t know. Some heiress Helene kidnapped, I think,” I say, my voice sounding like it’s underwater as the other anchor provides more details.
“From a journal found near her remains, it’s believed during her time on the island, Monica had five pregnancies.
While emergency services bravely battled the raging fire, they came across a cemetery filled with warnings and dolls, where Miss Edric had hidden more journals detailing the events she’d witnessed.
We’ll go to our correspondent on the scene for more information after the break. ”