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Chapter Four - Delilah
“Make yourself comfortable.” He laughs an instant before he shoves me onto a bed I wouldn’t have otherwise touched with a ten-foot pole. I immediately set up, pushing myself up against the rusted bed frame and drawing my knees up against my chest. The thin mattress has to be crawling with disease. There’s a hole in the roof almost directly above the bed, too, so it’s been rained on plenty. At least we’ve had a string of dry days lately.
“What’s the purpose of this?” I have to keep him talking. Not that I want to hear his voice—the sound of it turns my stomach. “What do you get out of it?”
“You mean besides the satisfaction of a job well done?”
And I thought I’d met some twisted sons of bitches in my life. Nobody I’ve ever known before now comes close. “Besides that.”
He shrugs his way out of his jacket before carefully folding it and draping it over the foot of the bed. The sight of it placed so carefully over the rusted metal frame makes me laugh before I can help it. It’s so surreal, the whole thing.
“You think I’m funny?” Just like that, the act falls away. I’m almost glad it does. I don’t need him pretending to be somebody he isn’t. I would rather meet him head-on, honestly. The whole cat and mouse thing is getting old, anyway.
That’s why when he lunges for me, I don’t jump or squeal or shriek. I’m almost relieved.
And he sees it, standing inches from me with his ham-sized fists hanging at his sides. “Well?” he bellows. Somewhere in the house, something is startled into scurrying around. I’m not sure I even want to know what it is. I didn’t get much of a look at the downstairs when he was dragging me up here, but I doubt it’s any more pleasant than this filthy, moldy room.
“Well, what?” I ask in a flat voice.
“What, are you in shock or something?” He even snaps his fingers in front of my face like that’s going to make a difference.
“I’m not in shock. I’m just tired.”
He backs up a step, his beady eyes narrowing. The hole in the roof allows plenty of moonlight to flow into the room, lighting it up almost as bright as day. I wish it wouldn’t. I don’t exactly want to look at this guy. “Tired?”
“Yes. Tired of bullies. Tired of people thinking they can push me around.” I look him up and down, unable to keep from smirking. “What, do you think you’re the first man who’s ever huffed and puffed and threatened to blow my house down? Please. I’ve been dealing with stuff like this since I was ten years old. Maybe even younger. It all kind of blurs together.”
I rest my chin on my knees, trying like hell not to shake. If Luca isn’t going to come and get me out of this, I have to get myself out of it. Maybe a little bit of honesty will help with that. Maybe if I can throw him off his game far enough, he’ll forget what he brought me here for.
It’s probably stupid, useless, a waste of time. But damn it, I have to try. Short of getting one of these shoes off and using it as a weapon, I have no way of defending myself.
And if there’s one thing I learned from Luca, it’s how men like this get off on scaring women. The way he tried to scare me, and how frustrated he was when I didn’t give him what he wanted. If I surprise this maniac by not weeping and trembling or whatever he expects, maybe I can get him to change his mind about what he’s planning.
“Please. You’re making shit up now. What, you think you’re going to stall?” He steps up closer again, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from retching when he touches my hair. “No, on second thought. Tell me all about it. I want to know you better before we have our fun.”
Our fun. This man is insane. “It’s the oldest story in the book. Dad got into drugs, Mom followed after a little while. We went from being poor but happy to being just flat-out poor to being completely neglected. And sometimes…”
I shudder but stay strong. Of all people for me to open up to. “Sometimes, they didn’t have any money to pay for that night’s hit. Arrangements were made.”
Even this monster has the nerve to wince. “How could a parent do that to their kid?”
“I used to ask myself that all the time.”Good, keep him talking, get him feeling sorry for you. It might help. “Why didn’t they care? How could they forget their responsibilities? How could they offer their own kid?”
“They still alive?”
“I was telling you the truth before about my mother. My dad’s gone, too.”
He surprises me by sitting at the foot of the bed. I’m not sure the bed frame can handle much more weight. As it is, the metal shrieks when he lowers his substantial body onto it. He seems not to notice, or else he just doesn’t care. “Murdered?”
“How did you guess?”
“People like that? There’s only one direction they’re headed in.”
“I guess you’re right. It was bound to happen. I pretty much raised myself after that so now, there isn’t much that scares me. I’ve had to do things and say things most people never have to, but especially not when they’re kids.”
“But you got out of it. Because you’re strong.”
“I am strong. And yes, I got out of it.” I’m able to muster a weary smile. “You don’t know what you’re capable of until there’s no choice.”
