Tears drip from her lashes as she slaps out, making my ear ring when the full force of her hand hits it.
“How many other people was she fucking after us?”
“STOP!” I scream, pulling my fingers out of her mouth.
Her jaw is covered in red patches as I slowly loosen my hand.
Fuck, what the fuck am I doing?
Sitting up on my knees, I place my hands on my head, staring down at her as she chokes, hacking through her coughs for air.
I don’t want to hurt her.
But I do.
I quickly get off the bed and grab her ankle, forcing her leg apart while she’s trying to breathe with spit on her face, cheeks red. If I do this, I’ll stop myself from falling into her trap.
I unhook the metal Y-shaped belt from my belt loop and force it up her legs so the circular portion is wrapped around her waist before I squeeze the sides, fitting it snug against her skin. Removing the key from the locking mechanism at the side to prevent anyone taking it off, I hold it tightly in my fist as Delilah looks down. “Is that a chastity belt?” Her lips barely move as she whispers, “Thank you.”
“For what?” I turn, firing back over my shoulder, “Stopping you from being a fucking whore because you’re incapable?”
My cigarettes are on the ledge with my lighter as I open the window to climb out. There’s a small groove between the ledge and the surrounding stonework of the walls, so I tuck the key into it to keep it safe.
There’s something familiar about sitting here that I can’t understand through the shit in my head. Instead of trying, I close my eyes and take out a cigarette. The flame is too closeto my face, singeing my lashes, but I like the warmth. As I take a deep breath of toxic air, I keep the flame alight, heating the metal casing of the lighter. That familiarity sinks deeper into my skin as I open my eyes, watching the metal heat. Then when there’s black soot marking the metal, I extinguish the flame and push my sleeve up to press it to the inside of my wrist.
Pain—something I can recognize.
It doesn’t matter how fucked my head is, the pain is understandable. It allows everything to make sense because to live is to be in pain, but I’ve finally found a way to be in control of my life.
The small bit of peace I’ve created in the chaos is chased away as Delilah softly whispers, “I said thank you because he won’t be able to touch me now.” She pulls the drapes across the window before she climbs out, handing me the end of her leash. “At least I won’t fall.”
“You should.” I pull my sleeve down and lean my head against the window as the wind picks up. “It’ll be the only time you stop opening your legs.”
“Kane, don’t do this.”
“Do what? See you for what you really are?” I keep looking at the horizon. “You’re a whore, Delilah, and your lies don’t mean shit to me anymore. He can fuck you again when I’m done with you.”
Her jaw drops in my periphery, the blurred edge of her tears slowly dripping down her face. She shifts away from me, hugging herself, but there’s steel in her voice as she says, “You’re fucking sick.”
“Me?” I laugh, finally looking at her. “I’m not the one who fucked someone else.”
“Do you think I had a fucking choice?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“My father?”
“I saw you.” I scoff, shaking my head as I flick the butt into the water. “You were lucid, eyes open, not drugged by your daddy.”
Now she hits me.
She sits with her back against the side, kicking into my thigh with her unbruised foot while she tearfully says, “Fuck you. You keep doing this to me. Now you’re sinking too fucking low.”
I grab her ankle, dragging her closer to me so she’s laid flat on the stone as I tighten my hand on the leash to stop her from falling.
She’s clearer than she’s ever been as she spits up at me, “You were the guard watching and you didn’t stop him.”
“Who?”
