“My fath—Harkin.”
She slaps at my hands as I try to touch her. Did he hit her? No, she was running to a man.
“What did he do?” I ask.
“Kane, were you the guard watching?”
I shake my head, still staring at the bruises on her wrists then I look at her fully. Really fucking look at her.
The bruises aren’t only on her wrists.
There are some on her inner thighs.
On her knees.
“Please can you listen to me?” Her bottom lip wobbles as she whispers, “No one has ever listened to me.”
I nod but the residual hate is there, forcing me to snap, “It doesn’t mean I’ll believe you.”
Delilah doesn’t attack me though. She smiles as she wipes her tears off her cheeks. “The people who believed me never cared anyway.”
She slowly sits up, staring at my hand. I thread my fingers through hers, a stupid thing I convinced myself made her feel better when we were children. She’d be scared about going onthe slide, swings, or the rope bridge, and I’d hold her hand so we’d be able to keep playing. I convince myself of the same lie as she takes a fortifying breath before she says, “Harkin would drug me.” She holds my hand with both of her as she stares out at the horizon. “For years. I don’t know when it started, but he did the same to Ruby and Scarlet too. It’s why they left. Asher knew. It’s why he said I was closed for business. It’s such a weird thing to say, but when I found all the videos from the cameras Asher hid in my room, I knew what it meant.”
Another lie.
“You weren’t drugged,” I say, more to prove she’s a deceitful bitch than asking her for confirmation.
She shakes her head.
“The Halloween party?” I force out through clenched teeth.
This professional liar’s lips slowly draw together as she asks, “Which one?”
“The one when I fucked you on top of the piano.”
“I remember being in the garden, watching the stars, then I promised you I didn’t want Asher.” She stares into thin air, her eyes narrowing. “I tried to leave him, but he hit me and my mother shouted at me for causing a scene, so I stole her wine glass. Then I woke up in my bed.”
“You told me not to be there.”
“It didn’t matter what he did to me. You wanted a relationship with your brother.”
“How can I believe you?”
“Don’t.” She shrugs, softly smiling. “My mother believed me then she left me alone with that monster.”
“Asher?”
“Harkin. He recorded…” Her tears come faster as she folds in on herself to trap her sob.
“Did your dad hurt you?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
“Daddies look after their princesses,” she cries, crossing her ankles. “Thank you for making sure he can’t again.”
We’re both fucked up and there’s no saving us. Yet I still hate her. It won’t go when the voice in my head tells me it’s her fault while I sit her on my thigh, wrapping my arms around her.
11
DELILAH
