“Sasha’s fucking crazy, but if I ever slip away from life or my own mind, and she pops up, please help her. She helped me make sure you were safe. We promised each other we’d travel the world together because she’d never seen anything.”
“Did you…”
“No.” I grimace. “I love her even when she’s in full crazy pants mode. It’s not that type of love though. She’s my sister in everything other than blood.”
“You’d be a good big brother. You know what makes a bad one, so I’m sure she knows how much you love her too.” Delilah hugs me, fucking her hair up as she burrows into my chest.
“I hope so. Me and that little nutcase have lived through too much together. She’d listen to me talk about you for hours until she fell asleep. But she’d get scared in the middle of the night or when she saw churches. When I did this,” I lift my left arm, “she kept calling me an idiot.”
“Sounds like she’d be Seraphim’s best friend,” she snorts.
“Probably. But Sasha’s never had friends. I don’t know, I’m just scared. What if she needs me?”
Lifting up to look at me, she says with conviction, “Then we won’t hide. We’ll stay close to Ruby and Scar so she always knows where to find us.”
“You’d do that?” I ask, confused why she would want to be in the open where it isn’t safe.
“Yeah, I’d do anything for you. She’s your family, so she’s included too. I love you, Kane, without expectation or condition. I don’t need you to be perfect or make sense to the world. As long as you make sense to me, that’s all I want.”
“Do I?”
“Yeah. Because when things get hard, I know I can look at you, and you might not know the exact details, but youunderstand the pain. Not many people can have that. Love me back in the same way, it’s enough.”
“I do.” I kiss her cheek. “I’m going to marry you again. Third time, right time. You’ll have your sisters with you. I’ll have Sasha next to me, Micah will pass the rings, and Seraphim can, I don’t know, complain about the flowers while stamping on them. But you’re going to be Mrs. Delilah Xandros until we die.”
There’s a deep wish for my parents to be present that I can’t voice. I spent the majority of my life believing they hated me. They sacrificed everything to allow me to live a normal life, and that kept me ignorant to the brutal ways of the Kobalts, but they tried to stop me from ever feeling their fear.
Delilah strokes my chest as she softly says, “Kane? Where did you go?”
“Nowhere. I think I miss my mom and dad.” She wipes a tear off my cheek as I admit, “The call about my mom was real. Rowan visited her after killing my dad, beat the shit out of her, who knows what else all to get my attention. I don’t even know how she managed to call an ambulance, but I was so fucking angry. I hated the beeping telling me she was alive when she didn’t visit me. I wanted to pull the tube out of her mouth so she knew what it felt like to be abandoned. The last thing I said to her is I hate her, but now I don’t. I think I’ll always miss them, and the ability to have a conversation with them—one that isn’t a lie.”
“They loved you.” She sniffles, hugging me tighter. “I was at your house once and they were both in the living room trying to figure out how to stream something on the TV. I’d never heard them argue before, but your mom was getting angry because your dad couldn’t get it to work.” She smiles up at me. “It was your first robotics competition. I asked them why they didn’t go with you while I was setting it up. Do you know why they didn’t?”
“Because of him,” I answer without emotion.
“No.” She lifts up so I can’t escape the sincerity on her face. “Because they knew if they went, everyone would start asking about Asher. He would’ve done something, started an argument or been an obnoxious dick just to take it away from you, so they were trying their best. I’m not saying they were perfect, but I know they loved you because it’s effortless with you. I’ve loved you for nearly as long as I’ve known you, so they had to too.”
Walkinghand in hand with my wife is one of the things I will never take for granted again as we walk down the spiral staircase for the last time, but the stench is the first thing to hit me. It’s so thick and putrid, like a physical presence slamming into me as soon as I open the double doors where Daigon sits at the head of the table, forearm deep inside Delilah’s grandfather’s chest cavity. Then I see the cause of the stench, but I’m distracted by my beautiful wife’s joy as she laughs. It’s an innocent sound, unlike anything I’ve ever heard when I’ve known her nearly my entire life.
Delilah lets go of my hand to walk over to Helene, who’s secured inside a coffin with thick metal spikes on the inside of the door. She stops short of the coffin, leaving an inch of space as she pinches her nose with two fingers. Yet it doesn’t diminish the strength in her voice as she demands, “Where’s your little fuck buddy?”
“Pathetic,” Helene slurs, only one side of her lips moving.
“She kept annoying me,” Daigon offers without looking away from his deathly project. “I think I hit a nerve when I drugged her.” He shrugs as he surveys the tools on the table then snatches up a large carving knife. “I wasn’t being very careful on account of…” He circles the knife in Helene’s direction. “Well,the shit. Inside, outside, it’s all over her. I think she ate some when she was screaming.”
Delilah stumbles back as she laughs. Tears spring to her eyes and she wraps her arm around her waist to hold her ribs from how hard she’s laughing, spluttering out, “You. Ate. Shit!” Straightening up, she mockingly coos, “Not so powerful now, are you, shit breath?”
She’s fucked. There’s no other reason why she’s hysterical with the stench in the air, but fuck me, she’s beautiful.
The benefit of an empty island means we don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing screams, so I open all the windows and empty Helene’s torture cabinet for anything useful as I say, “What a perfect home you have. No one will be able to hear you scream.”
“Find out how this works,” Daigon says softly as I drop the whips, leashes, and bladed chains on the table.
“What? The taxidermy?”
He nods, pulling his hand out of the body to select a new knife.
“I’ll get you a book,” I offer. “Nothing this cursed bitch knows will live on.”
