DELILAH
Ican hardly breathe. The moment Blade left to pull on some clothes, a memory hit me like a runaway freight train.
It was a kind of flashback, if you like. A memory from deep inside my mind. One I’d rather hadn’t returned. The one that broke me.
“What’s up, darlin’?”
Blade sounds concerned. I notice the surprise on his face, and my heart drops like a stone.
“The name I mentioned when I told you about Jenna’s argument with Angela.”
“Gideon?”
He fixes me with a dark glare, and I shiver inside.
“His name is Gideon Fox.”
I drag in some oxygen because even the name chokes me.
“Who is he?”
Blade appears concerned, but I don’t miss the threat in his question, and for some reason, it curls around my heart like a warm hug.
His question is a hard one to answer, though. My pulse spikes and my breathing is ragged, choking me; bitterness is ataste I never did enjoy. The memory is crushing me, reminding me of who I am,whatI am, and I wonder if it will change the way Blade looks at me. The wayIlook at me when I stare at myself in a mirror, expecting to see that man’s reflection behind me, his hands wrapped around my throat, his eyes burning a deadly promise into mine as he holds my life in his cruel hands.
It takes several deep breaths to form the words, and I prepare myself for concern to change to disappointment in Blade’s eyes.
“He’s–”
I swallow hard, my legs trembling, the coffee mug clattering to the table as I attempt to steady my hands.
The tension is so thick, I could almost lean against it for support, and I attempt to form the words because once I voice them, everything will change.
Blade reaches for my shaking hand, and his tone is soothing, reassuring even.
“It’s okay, darlin’, nothing can hurt you now.”
“I wish that were true, Blade.”
It feels good knowing he is here, a protector of sorts, one who I doubt could protect me from him, but he’s all I’ve got right now. I breathe slowly, attempting to focus my mind, and as I raise my eyes to Blade’s, I whisper, “He’s my husband.”
A sharp hiss is my answer, and yet his fingers close around mine almost as a reflex. It’s as if he is holding me as I fall, and as my lip trembles, the tears flow thick and fast.
“I’m sorry.”
For once he doesn’t pull me up on my apology, and his tone is ominous as he growls deeply, “What can you remember?”
I use the fingers of my free hand to brush the tears from my face and breathe deeply, my voice shaking as I whisper, “It was while I stood at the countertop gazing out of the window. A memory hit me of Gideon standing behind me. His hands were wrapped around my throat, and he was applying pressure. Hisvoice was hard and cruel as he whispered in my ear that I was his wife now and that he owned me. Controlled me, and I would never stop paying him back.”
I daren’t even look at Blade; I am so ashamed. Gideon Fox was—is—my husband, and that is all I know.
“Can you remember anything else, darlin?”
For some reason, Blade is being gentle with me, and I appreciate that more than he will ever know. It goes a long way because I doubt anyone has ever been gentle with me—at least for some time now, and it unravels me more than any cruel word or bolt of physical pain.
I want him to wrap those strong arms around me and keep the entire world out, but I would never ask that of him. He doesn’t deserve my blend of chaotic madness because he is merely being a good guy and babysitting a hot mess.
“Not really.”
