“I don’t think she has a filter anyway,” Delilah mutters.
“Why filter words?” Seraphim shouts. “Unless you’re talking shit.”
“Language, little madam.”
“I don’t mind,” I say again as I look over my shoulder where she’s isolated from her family. “You don’t have to make her sit alone because of me.”
“I’m not alone,” Seraphim shouts over. “I have the TV. You have each other’s boring company.” She flicks through the channels. “Dad, what’s the password?”
“It’s called child lock for a reason, little demon. No more scary movies.”
“So let thischildunlock it.”
I don’t want her to be on her own, so I take my plate and sit on the other side of the sofa to make small talk.
“What scary movies do you like?” I ask.
“The really old ones, like your age. They’re so bad, they’re not even scary.”
“First of all, I’m not old. Second of all, you take after Delilah.”
“I’m not dumb,” she fires back then bares her teeth in an awkward smile. “I mean, she’s not dumb. She just doesn’t pay attention to everything around her. Like she tried to ask my mom a question, but I was sitting right there so I could obviously read her lips.”
“She likes scary movies too,” I deflect. “She’d laugh at the old ones because the guts were made of foam.”
“Yeah?” She turns towards the kitchen, hanging off the back of the sofa. “Auntie Delilah, what’s your favorite one?”
The smile on my wife’s face at being called an aunt is pure fucking joy. “I have a few but I forget everything I watch.”
“The great Delilah and Kane movie marathons are going to start again,” Scarlet groans. “If you two giggle when the little weirdo in a mask chases the girl, I’m going to hit you.”
“Does she chase him back?” Seraphim asks.
My wife looks at me, a smile playing on her lips, eyes lighting up. But her eldest sister answers, “No. They always end the same, with the man in the mask being someone who’s in love with her.”
“Well, that’s stupid,” Seraphim huffs as she goes back to her plate. “I bet Dad would shout at me if I didn’t take their knife and chase them back.”
“No one’s ever chasing after you, little demon,” Daigon grits.
“Exactly! You’d give me the knife.”
“You’re not chasing anyone,” Ruby says. “With or without a knife. Eat your food.”
The teenager looks at me through the corner of her eyes, mouthing,They’re so boring.
If Seraphim could seeher dad as he whistles with a bat over his shoulder, I’m sure she’d change her stance on him being boring. Daigon doesn’t know the Leroux house like I do, so I walk ahead. He’s already disabled the alarm, but my wife is even more eager as she skips steps entirely as we walk up the stairs.
I couldn’t deny her revenge when the fucker raped her for years, drugged her so he could sell his own child. She’s beautiful with her righteous anger as she squeezes the handle of a knife in her fist.
I’m stuck in the middle of two psychotic fucks as Delilah copies her brother-in-law’s whistling. They stay in tune with each other as we walk around the staircase to the main bedroom where Harkin’s snoring resonates through the thick wooden door. A tremor works through her limbs the closer we get until she loses the eerie whistle and kicks into the wood.
There have been many different facets of my wife. The lost girl who was looking for a friend, the confident teenager who never gave a fuck about anyone, the quiet contemplation under the stars she would only ever show me, then the crazy I misguidedly forced on her. This is a new one—rage. She has never been as beautiful as she is in this moment, flicking the lights on to look at her startled parents, who spring up in bed.
“What? No welcome home for the baby of the family?” she asks as I wrap my arm around her waist, standing at her back.
Harkin’s eyes widen when he looks at me, sleep deepening his voice. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
Before I can answer, she fires back, “Well, the thing about Kane is that he has a bad habit of faking his death. Don’t worrythough, I’ll make sure you don’t rise again. Where the fuck is the island?”
