That motherfucking prick.
And he wanted me to know about it, why else would this be here? I never received the paper before. But now? When I was well enough to leave the infirmary after his hired goons put me in here? Yeah. That sadistic bastard set it up.
As my hands gripped the paper, a small letter floated out from the folded pages.The hell?In crude, jolted handwriting the note read:
Not a word or she’ll pay the price.
I crumpled the offensive thing in my fist and let it fall unceremoniously onto the floor. I knew that handwriting. I saw it daily when I was in his fucking class.
While I’d been in here recovering, I’d worried what would become of Delilah at that school. I’d never in a million years pictured that this would be the outcome. Her parents must have agreed to the arrangement. There’s no other way they’d legally be able to wed without it. The question was why?
Why would they willingly give their daughter over to him? Sure he was skilled in manipulating people into thinking he was holy, but he was a fully grown adult man. Delilah was still a teenager. How did they think that was okay? There had to be something I was missing.
I shook my head. Those parents of hers also thought kidnapping their own daughter was an acceptable parenting strategy as well, so really, I shouldn’t be so damn surprised.
People were capable of getting their morals all in a twist when it suited their own interests.
I ripped the paper in half, splitting Pastor John from Delilah. My thumb ran over her angelic face and crushed that evil, crooked, smiling bastard with his hands on Delilah in the palm of my hand. He might have had me right where he wanted me. He might have had Delilah. But I had time. My name was Cain Montgomery, and I would rise from the ashes of the lives I burned—starting with his.
Dear Delilah,
I’m writing this letter to you from my prison cell. Today, the judge sentenced me to five years. Five whole fucking years. I don’t know who has it worse right now, to be honest. Me or you. I’ll tell you one thing though— I won’t forget about you. Or the promise I made. I will come for you.
My parents didn’t show again. No one did.
They had me booked and on my way so fast I felt like I got whiplash. They didn’t even hear from me. They wouldn’t let me speak. Not that I could tell the truth of what happened at Kingston. No one believed either of us. But they will. One day.
I wasn’t expecting to get tried as an adult, even though they warned me I would. They’ve got this town so twisted that they’re able to do whatever they want without consequences. Well, that changes the moment I get my freedom back.
I might be locked away for five years, but I’m going to use every second I can to prepare our revenge, starting with my body. I already have a regimen that I plan to keep up with, so I’ll be strong enough to take on any threat that comes my way.
The food here fucking sucks, but it actually might be a small step up from the sludge at Kingston. Maybe the cook at Kingston could take some pointers from whoever is cooking the stuff here at the prison.
It feels weird to accept that this is where I’ve ended up. Prison. It’s not what I pictured for myself. If I’m honest, I’d hoped for a life far away from here. Maybe doing something with Chemistry. I’ve always been good at that subject. I wonder what kind of job I could even get now with this on my record. Fuck, they really wanted to obliterate our chances at a future that they didn’t curate themselves. Well, they might have won for now. But I won’t be in here forever.
When you see me next, I’ll look a whole hell of a lot different. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. These fuckers in here burned the shit out of my face. Almost killed me. I’ll find a way to punish them too. But it’ll take some getting used to, having to see my face like it is. I hope it doesn’t scare you.
There’s no way for me to send this letter to you, but it helps to get the words out anyway. It makes me feel connected to you in a small way. So, I’ll write and I’ll plan, and one day, I’ll hold your body in my hands again andkiss those lips I keep dreaming about. And I’ll rip you away from this fucked up place where you can be mine forever.
Yours,
Cain.
CHAPTER 18
DELILAH
FIVE YEARS LATER
I lost the baby.John didn’t take it too well, but I was relieved. And maybe if he was so concerned, he shouldn’t have hit me over getting his mom’s meatloaf recipe wrong. I never pretended to be a cook, so expecting perfection out of someone who’d never made so much as a scrambled egg before was ridiculous. He backhanded me hard, and I ended up sprawled across the ground, meatloaf squashed to pieces around me. A mess I spent cleaning up on my hands and knees later as he watched some game on T.V.
Later that same night, my stomach began to cramp, and a wave of sweats and nausea racked through my body. John slept while I rocked back and forth over the toilet feeling my body expel the baby he’d forced on me.
When he left me in the morning for work, I snatched the keys to the sedan he’d instructed was only for emergencies and headed to the nearest woman’s health clinic where a doctor checked me over and handed me a discreet case for birth control, one she promised I could refill without his knowledge. She then gave me a number for domestic violence survivors, but I knew John’s reach was far too long to use it.
John made it clear how important it was for him to have a familyand carry on the Deaver family name and made us keep trying, though I secretly kept taking the pills to never end up pregnant by him again. He was clear that Deavers were good, strong breeders and he would expect a baby eventually.
Deaver. Delilah Deaver. That was my name now. If I wasn’t so despondent, I would have made a joke about my initials being double D’s, but all humor had been zapped from me the moment I said, ‘I do’.
