Delilah produces a strip of cloth. I vaguely recognize the pattern of a shirt she’d worn years ago. A shirt she loved, one of her favorites. Very light flowers printed on the fabric that flowed so beautifully down her arms now twist together as she folds it to hold it up. She grabs me to push me toward the front of the bus before putting her hands on my shoulders.
Tying the strip of cloth around my eyes, Delilah flitters around me to make sure I can’t see. I feel her wave in front of my face before pulling down the fabric to her satisfaction. I can’t help but grin, grabbing her hand to kiss her palm lightly. She gasps, and in the darkness, the image of her blossoms.
“Okay,” Delilah chuffs in content. “Let’s go. Be careful of the steps.”
I grunt and hold out my hands, shuffling forward while Delilah guides me off the bus. The steps are steep, and I grip her forearms tightly as apprehension flows through me. Excitement cramps my abdomen. My mind whirls with all the possibilities of where I could be right now, and I strain my ears trying to listen to my surroundings. I might be able to hear something that gives me a clue.
There’s no sound. No smells but for the bus’s exhaust. I hold my breath, and my heart pounds hard.
“Ta-da!” she exclaims loudly, and I yank off the tie to blink at the sudden, harsh brightness. Rubbing my eyes, I shake my head and look around eagerly. A large sign posted a few feet away tells me where I am, and I gasp in shock.
“A paintball course?” I ask, gobsmacked, and Delilah starts bouncing around and laughing happily. True excitement rises in my torso to push my heart and lungs out of the way. I stare, openmouthed, and shake my head, smacking my cheeks. “Really?”
“Really, really!” Even if Delilah wasn’t so excited, I wouldn’t know how to accept this. Handling a real gun has been such a chore most of the time, it took days to get the pain to die down. I couldn’t even empty a single clip without suffering from the violent shocks.
But paintball . . . I never would’ve thought of this. My eyes sting as they close in on Delilah, and my throat grows tight and hot. I gulp harshly, but it doesn’t help the burning in my chest. This isn’t shooting a gun, it’ll be fun, and all I need to do is take a breath and have a good time with the people I love.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
DELILAH
“Ha!” I slump back heavily in my chair, the legs lifting off the floor to thud down hard. “That was delicious! It’s the perfect place to go after kicking your butt, Keenan!”
“I guess we know why it’s right next door.” Keenan smiles as laughter rises around us, and I grab his knee under the table to squeeze. He covers my hand with his, tangling our fingers together. I can’t stop smiling, and I don’t think I’ll be able to for a long time. Today’s exactly what we all needed. Not only what Keenan needed, and what I needed, but the rest of his siblings too. I know things have been a bit different lately, but we all had a blast today. It was freaking awesome. “Thank you again. How long have you been planning this?”
“A while,” I answer vaguely. Grabbing his whiskey, Keenan drains the rest of the glass to sigh in utter bliss and sinks further into the chair. Over the day, he physically looked better. When I blink, I can see the transformation in Keenan. The realization that shooting a paintball gun is a lot easier than a real gun hits me like a ton of bricks. I was a bit worried he might be triggered today, but part of me planning this was to help him overcome a little bit of fear too. I wanted him to have fun with it and remember that being shot at with paint pellets isn’t as scary as real bullets. That he can get better and overcome his fears. “How’s your arm?”
“It’s good. Yeah. Real good,” he says warmly. Gripping his shoulder, Keenan’s smile falters. His gaze softens, trained on the edge of the table.
“All right, everyone! Time to get back on the bus,” Keeva yells over the commotion, clapping her hands to call attention to her words. I wait for Keenan to stand, wrapping my arm around his waist. He’s tipsy, but I purposefully didn’t drink so I could take in every emotion he showed me.
Memories of today flood my mind. I remember Keenan’s laughter through most of the day, his joking around and easy smile. I sigh as we shuffle in a large group. Everyone’s tired, full of happiness and good food, and my mind dares to conjure images of this feeling happening again and again. The cool evening air caresses my face as we leave the restaurant to climb into the waiting bus.
“Watch your step.” I guide Keenan gently, and he stumbles a bit over the steep, high steps. “Careful.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Delilah,” Keenan breathes tenderly in my ear, and my cheeks warm. The smell of whiskey and sweat waft up my nose as I take a breath. Helping Keenan sit heavily, I don’t object as he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me on top of him. “Come ‘ere.”
“How’s your shoulder?” I lean against him to murmur against his cheek, and Keenan hums gutturally. “Hurts?”
“In a good way,” he reveals, and relief eases between my shoulder blades. Rubbing my abdomen, he sighs hotly down my neck. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, thanks for all this, Delilah. It was a bloody blast,” Keeva says, dropping onto the seat next to us to stretch out languidly. She flops her head my way to grin broadly, lazily, and I return her smile. “It was awesome of you.”
“Of course. I think we all needed a pick me up.” I don’t know what else to say. Is there anything I can say? Should I thank Keeva for going along with my plan? All I did was suggest we do something fun that everyone could enjoy, and Keeva ran with it.
I’d pay any amount of money to see Keenan so optimistic again. Nothing prepared me for how he’d keep his walls down today. It was awesome to see him so positive and carefree, and with any luck, I can bring this side of him out a little bit more.
“What do you think about hitting the hay early tonight?” Keenan asks as he brings his lips against my ear, speaking in a rough whisper. I hum in agreement as he rests his chin on my shoulder. “I don’t know how many ways I can express how grateful I am for you . . . how much I love you . . . but I’ll find a way to show you all of it. I promise you I will.”
“Oh, Keenan.” I blink back the stinging tears in my eyes. My heart grows so full that it hurts with each beat. Resting my cheek against his temple, I close my eyes and fight back a sniffle. Reaching to stroke the bridge of his nose, my hand is hot and trembles slightly. “I look forward to it.”
He chuffs lightly, his smile bunching up against my chin. I gulp down the hard lump that forms in my throat and sigh. Sinking back, I savor Keenan’s heat around me as I settle into his chest.
This is what I want. No. This is what I need. It’s what we both need.
“Stay awake,” Keenan murmurs tiredly.
“I will,” I reply, not wanting to zonk out. I want us to get back to the house and proceed to enjoy one another’s company for the rest of the night.
