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Where is that dark side of me now? The side that found it so easy to punish her until she screamed? I could use him right about now. He would make it possible for me to finish this, as I know it needs to be finished.
It doesn’t help that everything I set eyes on in this place brings up a memory of her. Having dinner, watching a movie, and even sitting in silence while we both worked. And of course, the bedrooms carry their own memories.
Even if I kill her, I’ll never be rid of her. And that’s on me. That’s my weakness, my stupid mistake. I allowed her to get too close, so close that her betrayal struck me to my core. I lost perspective because I lost my grip on myself. Time and again, I went against what instinct told me was right in favor of what I wanted at the moment.
And always, I told myself I had it under control.
There’s only one thing I can do. What I should have done from the beginning. Rather than pour another drink, I go to the guest room and pull out a set of clean clothes. I add a clean blanket to the pile and pin two bottles of water under my arm, then head out for the holding cells. It’s late enough that the halls are virtually empty, and anyone who happens to see me in passing doesn’t exactly take pains to start a conversation. I can only imagine how I must look. One thing I’ve always been able to do is put on a foreboding image. The mood I’m in, I don’t have to try. It radiates from me.
This time, when the guard unlocks the door, I tell him to wait outside. This is a conversation we need to have in private.
She’s curled up in the corner of the cot, facing the wall. I tell myself not to pay attention to that, dropping the pile at the foot of the bed. “These are for you,” I mutter before backing away.
She finally dares to glance over her shoulder. Once she’s confirmed I’m alone, she looks at what I’ve brought her. I don’t expect thanks, and I don’t get any. “I was kind of hoping for a steak.”
“As it turns out, the kitchen is fresh out of steak for people who scheme to get other students killed.”
She turns her face toward the wall again, her shoulders rising and falling as she sighs. “Anything else? Did you want to fuck me until I bleed this time?”
“Not this time. Not ever. That’s never happening again.”
She snorts. “So you’ve said before.”
“This time, I mean it. This time, I’m going to do what I should have done all along. I’m going to stay away from you. You’re on your own now, Delilah.”
A half-hearted chuckle falls from her lips. “I’ve always been on my own, Lucas. Don’t you get that?”
“No, it’s you who doesn't get it. You could have had something good here at Corium. You could have had a friend… maybe even more. You were the one who threw it all away.”
Her breathing hitches, betraying her. Not that I didn’t know this was all an act. She’s suffering, no doubt about that, no matter how she tries to pretend otherwise.
Finally, she rolls over, and I can’t shake the stirring in my chest when I see how haunted she looks with her big eyes and sunken cheeks. It’s only been a few days that she’s been kept without food, but the effect is visible. “So that’s it?” she whispers. “I can go?”
“When did I say that? No, you will remain at Corium. I let the council decide what to do with you. This is the last kindness I will extend to you.” I nod at the pile of clothes.
“No. No, please.” She sits up, shaking, as the last of her pride falls away. “Please, don’t leave me down here. I didn’t hurt her. I wasn’t going to; I told them I wouldn’t be able to do that.”
“Told who?”
She presses her chapped lips together into a tight line. I let out a frustrated sigh at her unwavering unwillingness to talk.
Her voice rises in pitch and volume when she repeats, “I didn’t hurt her!”
“You had your chance, and you chose to turn your back on it.”
“Please, Lucas. Please, don’t leave me alone.” Her voice catches an instant before a single tear cuts a line down her cheek. “I won’t ever try something like that again. I won’t go near Aspen. I swear!”
“Do you know what the worst part is?” I ask, keeping my distance no matter how much I want to go to her. “I don’t know whether anything you say is true or not. This could all be an act.”
“It’s not!”
“Just like it wasn’t an act when you went out of your way to befriend Aspen?” Her shoulders slump when the truth of that hits home. “I can’t believe you, and I won’t anymore. You’ve burned your last bridge.”
